[SWE] Festival of Lights - 320PC

Festival of Lights It has become something of an expectation that the Festival of Lights is a merry affair, despite its connections to death and the great beyond. Usually abundant with lights and music, treats and laughter, it's a chance to reconnect the past with the present and, above all, to celebrate the herald responsible for shepherding souls to their final resting place in Mort's halls. This year, things seem a little different. All of those elements are still present - string lights and dozens of lanterns adorn the great boughs of the Mathair, casting warm spots of illumination down onto those gathered, and a ring of stalls has been constructed around the mother tree's vast trunk. Music warbles from a variety of instruments, food is aplenty and drinks flow in abundance, and yet things still seem on the spookier side. The shadows appear deeper, the sort that might gobble you up if you linger in the dark for too long, and they stretch long and wild across the leaf-strewn ground. Overhead, through the spidery spaces in the Mathair's naked branches, lightning occasionally shrieks through the proceedings, leaving attendees both delighted and utterly on edge. Still, some might argue, Ludo would approve of all of this. Welcome to the Festival of Lights - 320 PC! You have FIVE DAYS to have your character arrive at the festival. Some housekeeping: If your character brings a lantern to remember a loved one who has passed on, please note who it is for at the bottom of your post! At the end of the festival, Ludo will choose a lantern as its favourite, and spooky things may happen! PLEASE NOTE: You may bring multiple lanterns but please only list ONE to be selected at the bottom of your post. Please only select lanterns for characters whose writers are still active as this is a chance for them to be able to write their dead character again! You will need to post at least three times in this SWE thread for it to count for SE, MP and/or levelling.

Time has stopped before us The sky cannot ignore us Deimos had always viewed the Festival as something sobering despite the relatively light atmosphere. While it was a celebration of the potential of seeing loved ones once more, it was still a melancholic void – reaching out for those one could no longer see. His sentiments had altered slightly when he’d been able to communicate with Rexanna again, reconstructing his beliefs on occurrences through horrendous LongNights. Even with his mixed emotions and sentiments on the situation, he still wanted to present it as something else altogether for Erebos, lanterns guarded as his son rode on his thunderbird wiles. But landing there felt stranger, odder, with the elongated shadows and the drifting wake the earth had left behind all season. Perhaps he was already uneasy from the screaming wakes and the Mathair itself – and on edge with being away from Halo and Evie, awaiting news in his ear to return swiftly. He likely would have, regardless, for there’d be no lingering on this evening. Sighing, he waited for Erebos to slide off wings and plumage before glancing around, narrowed eyes taking in the scenery; the flashes of lightning, the illuminated wakes, clicking his beak towards his son as they went to select a place. -- No viable lanterns for Dei! the Resurrected Sword No one can separate us For we are all that is left

everything I let go

Erebos, due to youth and ignorance, carried no preconceived notions of the Festival of Lights. Merriment was merriment in his opinion, and he could be raised on Natural orders without the angst-laden history of so many surrounding – instead, he whooped and hollered as Deimos tore through the skies, giggling loudly and wildly as the air rushed by him, occasionally remembering his responsibility with his father’s bag and lanterns.

The Mathair was a bewildering thing, so even as they landed and he collected their supplies, his mouth was agape. “Whoooooa,” came and went many times, as his eyes flickered back and forth from shadows, fixtures, instruments, and food; though he wasn’t certain if he should be enraptured by the tree’s magnificent, mighty roots, or mildly terrified. He’d settle somewhere in the middle, hoisting the bag of holding over his shoulder as he was ushered forth by the Sword, running and staying close to the massive wings. “Can we go over that way?” he offered, pointing towards a sanction near lanterns, ready to help and assist and watch everything go down (and not jumping when there was a crack of lightning overhead).

--

Alas no viable lanterns for Erebos either.

Erebos

has claw marks on it

Like some child possessed, the beast howls in my veins

“I’m gettin’ real sick of this lightning,” she murmured, glaring upwards at the sky as they walked further into the Festival of Lights, trying to steady the way each flash left her just a little more on edge. If Iskra felt the way she jumped while clutching his elbow, she’d trust he’d ignore it, and she took a few breaths, removing the scowl from her features as she surveyed the food, the warbling music, and the people beginning to flicker and walk their way in. Distractions might be a necessity, and while she clutched her mother and sister’s lanterns in her free hand, mulling over possibilities of Deepfrost intentions and recovering some aspects of her bravery, her gaze meandered to the individuals at large.

With a swift grin, she tried to catch his eye with a glint of mischief. “See anyone we should bother?” Maybe he had someone that had been nettling or nagging at him (save for herself, of course); otherwise she could always pick and choose on bullying and harassment – but she figured Iskra could have some privileges.

Melita

The ground trembles faintly as a massive Elephant Beetle ambles into view, its heavy body moving with slow, deliberate steps. Despite its size, it radiates a calm, almost cheerful presence.

It pauses occasionally to nudge at plants or fallen debris with gentle curiosity before continuing on its way, wings buzzing softly when it shifts its weight.

The beetle shows no urgency, content to lumber through the forest at its own pace, unconcerned with anything beyond its quiet path.

---

Elephant Beetle Areas Found: Greatwood — Common A relatively unintelligent, giant black beetle that cannot fly. Males grow long tusks and the adults of both sexes grow to around 4 foot. Though their brains are particularly small in proportion to their size, they are capable of carrying several times their own body weight and are commonly found around Fae villages where they labour in exchange for food. These beetles can shift objects with their tusks and, while slow, can be ridden or pull carts. Challenge Rating: Moderate HP: 422 | To Hit: +25 | Dmg: 12 Movement: Walk 20 ft.; Climb 10 ft. (roots, low obstacles) SPECIAL SKILLS Harness Friendly: easily fitted with tack to pull carts or be ridden at a slow, reliable pace; Enduring Pacer: once moving, maintains momentum for long hauls without tiring quickly; Careful Mover: instinctively avoids crushing small folk or goods while maneuvering loads

TRAITS Giant Draft Insect: capable of carrying several times its body weight; Grounded: cannot fly; relies on steady, powerful legs; Tusk Leverage: long tusks excel at prying, lifting, and shifting objects; Village Laborer:commonly found around Fae villages working in exchange for food; Sure-Footed: stable on uneven forest floors and over roots; Thick Carapace: heavy shell shrugs off minor blows ACTIONS Tusk Push: shoves logs, stones, or obstacles aside to clear paths; Lift & Shift: uses tusks to hoist and precisely place objects for construction or roadwork; Plod Trample: if threatened, a deliberate stomp that knocks foes off balance

Kaisel

Fastidiously wrapped in an aggravatingly orange raincoat, Kaisel holds out a hand for Flora as they step across the wet ground. He's got vibrantly violet rain boots to match, patterned with orange slices, and is holding aloft the glowing, jellyfish umbrella Flora normally reserves for Longnight. It seems suitable for the festival, as does her mood-balloon, although the weather makes the latter less practical.

He extends the umbrella out towards her, ensuring no raindrops will find their way down even from the tree canopies, where the drops would have grown large and heavy, more like atmospheric nukes of startling wetness than rain. The shrieking that carries on above suggests the weather doesn't intend to relent, but they can party even in the fringe of a storm. "Jump!" he encourages, the puddle between them offering either a landing pad, or an obstacle to make across, depending on her mood.

The lantern in his hand bobs merrily with its orange glow, curled in his end fingers where it sways about the umbrella handle. It's for his aunt Mahina, and though he expects Noe or Koa have brought one already for their mother, Kaisel wants to ensure she is honored by him too.

And when the day broke, buried in violence
Somethin' made my mind up
I could do this with my eyes closed

you wouldn't be the first renegade to need somebody

Flora’s hand slips easily into Kaisel ’s as the Wildwood shifts damply beneath her boots, the yellow of her raincoat almost obnoxiously bright as Kai's, especially against the deep greens and shadow-slick bark around them, and even with her jellyfish umbrella hovering obediently above, her curls have already surrendered to the weather, haloing out in a riot of gold that clings to the humidity and turns every movement into something a little softer, a little wilder. When he says jump, her grin comes fast and unfiltered, sharp with delight as she leans into the invitation instead of skirting it, her weight pitching forward with no hesitation at all as she lunges straight into the puddle between them, her green boots hitting with a wet, satisfying squelch that sends a fan of muddy water arcing up around her calves and spotting the hem of her coat without apology.

She doesn’t even pretend to regret it, laughter already spilling out of her as she steadies herself against the slight drag of soaked earth, her fingers tightening briefly in his before she shifts closer, the lanterns she’s made knocking softly together where they hang from her other hand, their warm glows flickering against the strange, lengthening shadows cast by the Mathair’s skeletal branches. For a moment, her gaze drifts over them, quick but deliberate, counting without quite meaning to, and the absence where Enzo’s should be doesn’t hollow her out the way it has in years past; instead it lifts something bright and almost startling through her chest, a sharp, golden thread of relief that feels a little like stepping out of deep water and realising she can still breathe.

She bumps her shoulder into Kaisel’s, her smile tilting as she tips her chin toward the thicker boughs where the rain struggles to break through. "Come on," she says, already tugging him along rather than waiting for agreement. "Let’s put these somewhere they won’t get too wet before they drown completely and haunt us about it."

---

Flora has lanterns for Seren, Aoife, Vai, and Neron.

In the middle of the night, in my dreams
You should see the things we do, baby

Aithne skips through the woods towards the Mathair, thoroughly unbothered by the spooky atmosphere. This is the first time she's attended the Festival of Lights, and as someone who has never lost anyone, she's here primarily as a spectator. She looks at lanterns, browses vendors' wares, and descends upon the food - and then she sees Melita and Iskra, approaching the pair with a fanged grin.

"Heyyyy," she says to the two of them, pausing with a glass of red wine in one hand and a snack in the other. "Nice to know the scream rain isn't missing the party." She glances skyward at a wailing shriek, seemingly undeterred in her good cheer. "Don't know if all those offerings worked, though."

---

Aithne does not bring a viable lantern!

In the middle of the night, in my dreams
I know I'm gonna be with you, so I take my time

Aithne

COLT

Having already placed the lanterns for her parents, Colt now stands in the quiet space outside the main celebration. The hum of the music is felt more than heard, and the inviting glow beyond feels like something she could easily reach out for and be pulled back into it. For the moment though, she's content in the backdrop of shade and foliage, hip cocked against a thinner trunk than the Mathair.

Her hat keeps the sparse rain off her shoulders, which have tucked in and around the cup of coffee she huddles about in her hand. She blows on it with an absent routine, not keen on testing it again after burning a few taste buds off. The monotony of waiting and gently coaxing room temperature has let her mind drift, and it rolls over the line of the party, unfurling beyond it into to-do lists among sand dunes, occasionally plucking at familiar chords of past worries until some manner of personal song has joined the lilt of the band beyond.

Go and fix your makeup girl, it's just a breakup
Run and hide your crazy and start actin' like a lady
Gotta keep it together, even when you fall apart

Got the dreamer's disease

Steps are taken with deliberate care as Fern winds her way through the Greatwood, though it's not so ordinary as avoiding mud and puddles. She is drifting towards any patch that looks more interesting than the last, stooping frequently to admire a worm wriggling its way to somewhere drier, or tilting her head to watch a raindrop bend down a bit of new growth struggling against the weight of so much moisture. Small, ordinary things to most, prove a wholly captivating world. This may be in part because much of the world, big or small, contains new potentials in abundance, and the Greatwood especially is somewhere entirely different from home. It could also be that these natural details will forever trace their way into her attention, and she's doing her very best to ensure they do so for her parents as well.

"Look!" she says in a hushed tone, glancing over at the dark dog near her. She waits for his focus to swivel, then points with her finger towards a dewy cluster of mushrooms. "You can eat some mushrooms, right? Are those the ones?" She is not tempted to reach for them, perfectly content to admire, her hands cupping across her knees.

Eventually the drum of the festival, the entire point of being here, does persuade her approach, but she clings tightly to Everest's side with a shy arm slung across the back of his neck, seeking the reassurance of his fur and presence.

Fern

This world is gonna pull through, don't give up

If you feel like night is falling

"As opposed to fake sick?" he wonders with a shit-eating grin rapidly racing free. He tilts his head up to give such illness-inspiring clouds a once over, the light of a fresh shriek shuddering through the skies and decorating the cloud cover in varying opacities of scream. His one hand is held at his chest, the crook of his elbow out a bit and guarded by the curl of her. He tries not to glance sidelong at her every time she starts at the electric squeals, but he does always shuffle in a touch closer for a bit, as if he could shield her through body alone.

Lanterns for his own parents swing in his other hand, the faint glow bobbing along with them as they route towards the lantern deposit area. The pulse of the celebration carries on around them, uniquely lighthearted for a day of the dead more or less, although this one does feel tighter than he recalls them usually being, as if the very air has been pulled taut. Thinking it nothing more than the storm's pressure, he pays it little mind, instead incliding towards her in consideration. "Hmmm, I feel like we need a fresh target."

Iskra

I wanna be the one you're calling

/// when we crawled out of the ocean

The Festival of Lights once again comes around, and Sunjata finds himself heading there alone for the first time in what felt like ages. Well, he supposes he isn’t entirely alone – not with the lumbering lanterns he brings with him in the bag of holding, alongside a jar of the unicorn shavings to later be traded with Deimos.

So he arrives, finds a little spot amongst himself, sets his bag of holding down and fishes inside until he’s produced Nate’s lantern to hang, and this time another lantern joins the mix that hadn’t been a part of it before. Vervain’s lantern is hung nearby, adorned in bone and stained glass – he thinks he’d appreciate the nice little touch. And lastly, his Lusea lantern, hung with care as it was nearly every single year.

Then, he drifts away to snag a drink and a snack in order to make the time go by a little faster, nodding to those he knows in the crowd that he might catch their eye as he steps through.

---

Sunjata’s viable lantern is Vervain!

the flood

nothing was good and everything was in between ///

Like some child possessed, the beast howls in my veins

Her eyes went wider at the sudden appearances of gigantic beetles rolling through, but when no one else seemed to pay them any mind, Melita didn’t immediately go for her weaponry. Sighing instead, and flinching as another burst of lightning cackled its way through, she tried to settle her mind on bullying, though Iskra 's suggestion might've made it a tad more difficult. “A fresh target hmmm,” she ignored the shit-eating grin and prior response, assuming it was rhetorical. “Options might be a little thin.” She threatened her uncle on a daily basis with some sort of hijinks. She wasn’t going to fuck with Flora today. She’d already blown up Kai’s underwear. Colt had her own issues and a short fuse.

Before she could report that the cause might be lost (and she’d have to swing back to other counterparts and annoy them once more, like on a rotation of harassment), Aithne approached. “Hey! And yeah,” she gave a scowl towards the sky. “I’m not going to miss it.” If they had any fortune at all, maybe the alteration in seasons meant something different. Tilting her head vaguely, her grin grew more rampant, glancing at Iskra for half a second before sliding her gaze back upon the Ancient. “The surprise was a hit, by the way.”

--

I forgot Mel also brought no viable lanterns.

Melita

Time has stopped before us The sky cannot ignore us Deimos was not one to deter his son’s excitement, though he couldn’t help but snort at the rampant enthusiasm. As the youth skipped and launched and ran at his side, the massive bird wandered towards the pinpointed area, constantly on guard, head nearly on a swivel, for multiple reasons. Regardless, once they’d settled on the right spot, he helped and aided Erebos in opening the bag and extracting the lanterns, gently with his beak. His were for his parents, both elemental in each approach, and though they’d never be able to render themselves amidst this realm, it felt right to grant them some honor and dignity amidst the masses. Letting Erebos tie them, though not without some direction, he tucked the bag of holding back into his own periphery. Eventually, his gaze pinpointed upon Sunjata in the crowd, granting him a nod for trade purposes already outlined and ready. the Resurrected Sword No one can separate us For we are all that is left