[SWE] Festival of Lights - 319PC

Everest

Everest keeps close to Isla as they move through the current of people, the way her arm is looped with his own giving him an anchor to orient against. His eyes move in their habitual sweep—stall signs, lantern clusters, costume masks darting in and out of sight—and each time someone brushes too near, his shoulders tighten before easing again when Isla steadies his pace. The crowd isn’t unbearable, not with her there, but the background noise stacks in layers that his mind can’t help but catalogue and sort.

The corners of his mouth curl into a small, almost private smile as he glances down at her. "I think that usually happens when you visit a place you used to be familiar with," he murmurs, words quiet so they don’t catch on the air. "Time always feels thicker when you’ve been gone." His gaze drifts to the lanterns she’s arranged, cataloguing their shapes with the same care he’d give a diagram. The fiddle he recognizes immediately; the firework cannon startles him into a pause, the snarling dragon’s mouth glinting in the lamplight.

"That one’s…unexpected," he admits after a moment, but his tone holds no judgement. Just surprise and the faintest hint of admiration for the craftsmanship. He tilts his head toward Isla, brows drawn as he considers. "You and Edrei—" he gestures lightly to the lantern, "—were you close as well? The same way you and Varus were?" There’s no edge to the question, no accusation. Just quiet curiosity, his thumb tracing an unconscious rhythm against the inside of Isla’s arm as he waits for her answer.

even if i had to lose you to know you,
i'd still be that temporary phase that you grow through

Maea

Rest against my pillow
like the aging winter sun

"Good idea. Lead the way." Lacing her fingers into his, Maea fell in beside Liam and stayed glued to his side as they made their way through the growing crowd. The usual faces were here, same as always; she waved in return at Ronin's curt nod, smiling but keeping the distance out of respect for the season's impact on his mood. Remi was with him and received the same brief greeting, warm but not lingering. Isla was there, as was Sunjata, and Zavien with Lena on his arm.

"Have I just been blind, or are there a lot more couples than usual?" she mumbled to her partner as they made it through to the field of lanterns. "Is it like the companion effect, you don't notice how many there are until you get one too?"
Finding an empty spot upon the meadow, Maea knelt in the grass and nestled her lantern securely so that it wouldn't fall over. Lighting the wick of the candle within, she watched with satisfaction how the sulfates turned the flame blue and further added to the cool colors of the lantern. Very on theme, and a very fun way to put her reading into practice.

Looking up as the triplets glittered past, she openly admired the effect of Nova's chosen wardrobe for the evening. "Hello, Nova. Stunning dress, did you make it yourself?" she asked, extending the warm smile to Vesper and Calypso as well. "Good to see you all. Are you having a good evening so far?"

Only wake each morning to
remember that you're gone

Isla

"I don't think I've ever heard it said quite like that," Isla murmurs with a smile up towards Everest. "Time feels thicker... it's accurate," she agrees, sighing and leaning into him a little more now that her lanterns have been set up, admiring their glow for a few moments. She's about to suggest they find something to drink and somewhere to sit when Ever remarks on the firework cannon, and her smile turns a little more playful.

"It was unexpected for me too, though it really shouldn't be," she remarks, before his next question has a laugh bubbling out of her. "Oh gosh, no," she tells Ever with an immediate shake of her head. "No, though I daresay Edy would have loved that. We were friends is all, back when we were both Ascended. I saw her at Remi and Ronin's anniversary party, but we didn't really get much of a chance to catch up with everything going on. So I thought this would be a nice tribute."

Glancing across the proceedings and raising a hand to wave to Remi as she spots him, she quickly averts her gaze so not to antagonise the Knight beside him and returns her attention to Everest. "Do you usually bring any lanterns?"

sooner or later, we all have to wake
and try forgetting everything

RONIN

the white knight

Grateful for the kisses to distract him whenever he spots someone being inappropriate (read: looking vaguely at) towards his husband, Ronin at least manages to keep himself in check when he notices Isla, merely tucking Remi a little closer against him and obnoxiously nuzzling into his curls. "I hope they wouldn't feel that way," he murmurs, "though I could understand it if they did."

Sighing, he draws them towards a barrel of what looks like spiced apple cider, the Knight figuring that's as good a place to start as any. "Maybe this will give someone an opportunity that wouldn't usually have one, if there are less lanterns for Ludo to pick," he suggests, peeling himself away from Remi for just a moment to fill a cup for both of them. "Either way, I look forward to finding a good place to sit where I can people watch with you for the evening." He raises his cup in a toast.

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

REMI

the bastion

Darling, you never could scare me
Set me ablaze like you do

Remi flashes Isla a fond smile, mouthing a silent catch up soon? before Ronin's presence draws his attention back in, as naturally as the tide chasing moonlight.

Taking the warm cider with a grateful nod, he clinks his glass against Ronin’s with a mischievous grin that lifts all the weariness from his eyes. "If by people watching," he murmurs, lowering his voice with a conspiratorial glint. "You mean thinly veiled threats muttered into your cup, and smug little smiles that say I know where you sleep, then I'm in." He leans in just enough to brush his curls against Ronin’s cheek, wildly adoring of his husband's feral inclinations this season.

Lifting his drink to his lips, Remi exhales into the spiced warmth, before, with a gentle press of his hand to the small of Ronin’s back, he nods toward a quieter pocket in the crowd—a little break between lanterns and loitering couples where the press of the celebration softens. "Come on then. Let's find somewhere close enough to hear some of the gossip but far enough away I can drag you back should anyone call out my name." There’s no venom in the words, only boyish affection, and the kind of joy that comes from having nowhere else to be but beside the man you chose, and keep choosing.

I'd walk over coals in my bare feet
If that gets me closer to you

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

If you feel like night is falling

"How do you never run out of these?" he asks fondly as he settles in beside Melita, a duck fashioned like Ludo drinking chocolate milk in his hand, held aloft in the space between them as he glances at each little detail marked into the rubber. Goose is at his side, leashed with a stern word and a full belly given before coming to this gathering. It's not one he needs the ruckus of his hound in, but it is one he wanted to see.

He'd already delivered his lanterns for his his parents, Ampere and Gaucho, their memories burning bright as the flame within the container. Where he's normally weighed down with grief for them, this time it feels light enough to wade through, a river instead of something frozen. There's no smile reaching his eyes, just the reflection of lanterns lit all around them, but he's here, standing and feeling it all instead of digging for something to numb him in a bottle. In no small thanks to her, who's hand he silently claims at his side with the one her duck hasn't already taken, seeking the steady support of her warmth and presence.

---

Iskra doesn't bring a viable lantern

Iskra

I wanna be the one you're calling

// standing, stomping in the damage and the ruins of a slip of tongue //

With the season very obviously coming to a close, especially with the added boon of the Festival of Lights — it’s clear Astaroth’s feeling it a bit more than normal. Whatever normal seems to be this time of year for him, at least. So it leaves him a bit more on edge, silently grateful for the quiet boon of Dantalion at his side so he doesn’t have to worry about it, though it keeps his jaw set tight as he feels the chill sweep in. Without the trees of the Greatwood to block the wind chill, Mourn is far more open and with it, the gusts a bit cooler than he otherwise had expected.

“Why not both, darling?” He asks, leaning in to press a soft and affectionate nuzzle to his lover’s temple before he’s scanning the table of food and drinks from their distance, already guiding their feet to step toward it. He’d be happy to corral a cider and a few of those marvelous taffies and retreat under the gnarled tree in the back. And maybe with enough luck he’d be able to snarl his way into getting everyone to move away from them. “Fill our arms with treasures from the table in lieu of lanterns and lurk beneath the tree and make our own stories up of everyone?” He muses with a small smirk, spying the taffy as they approach the table with obvious delight.

---

Asta brings no lantern!

Astaroth

// with tragic consequences, i think that we've all made our gravest mistakes //

How could I say goodbye?
We've come too far to turn back now

They made their way through the crowd to the field of lanterns, and Liam chuckled softly at Maea's observation. "To be honest, I don't have a good frame of reference for what it was like before you," he teased. After years of living life as a hermit, he had to admit that it was nice to be out and about - particularly with a beautiful woman on his arm as his partner. Looking around, he realized that he didn't know many people he saw particularly well. He did, however, see Zavien, waving to his friend and making a mental note to check in with the dragoon soon.

After he and Maea had situated their lanterns, they turned towards the crowd once more. Liam lingered for only a moment longer than his partner, sending up a quick prayer to Mort to watch over his family before rejoining the pale Ancient. While she greeted Nova, Vesper, and Calypso, Liam offered a friendly smile but stayed largely quiet. He didn't know any of the three particularly well - and didn't know Calypso at all, really - and given the theme of the evening, he was content to be a silent observer.

Who are we without each other?
Too entwined to untangle now

Liam

// there's shadows on the walls //

"Now that sounds like a fine idea," Danta agrees, grinning at Astaroth and falling to a halt at the tables laden with food and drink. He snags two cups and a large, empty glass bottle, filling it with cider so they might not have to return to the table too often. To their plunder he adds some cotton candy, plenty of taffy and a few iced donuts, willing to snack on the sweetness just for tonight since he knows it would make the butcher happy.

"Come on, then," he says with a grin once he and Asta have claimed their fill, leading them to a few scattered lanterns on the outskirts of proceedings that are hanging from the boughs of a large, gnarled tree. "At least you aren't the only one feeling unreasonable tonight," he adds, grinning to the other man and nodding towards Remi and Ronin where the Knight stands thoroughly wrapped around his husband.

Dantalion

// of moments far too troubling to recall //

Theea

cause every night i lie in bed
the brightest colors fill my head

I don’t bring a lantern.

For the first time in three years, my hands are empty—no careful glass, no new etchings, no last-minute repair to a wick that never caught the way I wanted. The knowing settles warm and strange in my chest: of course it was never chosen. I’d been lighting it for someone who hadn’t even died. No wonder Ludo kept passing it by.

The Leafchange air nips at my thighs, sharp as bitten apples. I like it. The chill wakes me up the way a sunrise does—clean, bright, a little daring. The white sweater dress fits me for once, soft instead of armored, and I move through Mourn’s lantern-field feeling almost…simple. Lighter. The grass glows with scattered starlight from the ground while the sky answers back, and the music threads through my ribs like a low, steady hum. I wave at Remi and Ronin with a grin as I wander.

I weave between blankets on grass and tables and bundled coats and Ludo-masked kids until I find a barrel steaming beside a row of cups. I ask for hot spiced cider and tell the vendor to make it strong; they oblige with a generous double pour of dark rum. Heat blooms down my throat and pools under my skin, a small sun stretching in my chest with the first sip, warding off the cold. It steadies my breath.

On a table nearby, a ridiculous little rubber Ludo-masked duck grins up at me. I can’t help it—I grin back and pluck it from the table, thinking of Melita and her heart for mischief and laughter. The duck squeaks once in my palm; I tuck it into my pocket like a talisman.

I don’t rush. I let myself wander, blue eyes catching on lantern faces and familiar silhouettes, on the way light softens even the sharp people. Mom and Dad have slipped off somewhere (of course they have), and the thought warms me more than the rum. The festival feels different without a lantern dragging on my arm, without that heavy ache of asking. Tonight I’m just here, part of the glow, breathing it in.

Still… my gaze keeps lifting, scanning. I don’t mean to, but I do. I look for a particular height in the crowd, a certain quiet set to shoulders, the way a warm glow of firelight clings to him like first light on stone, gentling the hard lines into something steady. Every time I think I see him, something in me flares—quick as flint—and then settles, softer, like when sunlight breaks through cloud for a breath.

I take another sip, and keep moving. Damien has to be around here somewhere, right?

---

Theea brings no lantern!

a million dreams are keeping me awake

Once they had the lanterns tied off, the Sword took hold of his son’s hand, though dared not follow the pathlines of the mischievous children. Smirking a little as Erebos pointed them out, squealing in all the hope that he could accompany the ducking, winding, and weaving patrons, Deimos figured they ought to save that for when he was a little older, and instead, headed towards the food and drinks table, figuring they could spot something to snack upon before the festivities rolled around.

Lifting up Erebos into one of his arms, they went through all the plates and dishes, the youth selecting a small plate of fruit and vegetables, before something bread like. Placing everything on a plate, he couldn’t help but snort at the variety of Ludo ducks and plushies on display. “Do you want one?” he murmured to the toddler, and eventually, after surveying the entirety, much to the dismay of Deimos and probably others trying to make selections, Erebos decreed the Ludo duck throwing a snowball to be the best – holding it tightly while the Sword shook his head, casting a brief wave to Iskra and Theea on the way by.

deimos

Never let them drain the river of your soul

to be lit up from within

vein by vein

She gave a scoff at Iskra ‘s inquiry, as if the answer had been there all along. “My magic, obviously,” she winked, which was the truth – anytime she unleashed those wild incantations, there was a chance that more and more of the ducks would fall around them – and if they just so happened to be themed this go around, so be it.

But she watched him regardless, eyes narrowed, waiting for something mournful, sorrowful, laden with the grief of yesteryears. She never wore hers quite as keenly as Iskra did; but then again, that was typical of both. When he didn’t seem to delve hellbent into the melancholic efforts, she tilted her head, studying him, while he claimed her hand. She mulled over those portions too, trying to decide if it rankled or settled, before accepting it with a shrug of her shoulders, tried to break the tension. “Want to see if I can hit one of those kids going by?” She held up a portion of grapes with her free hand, already plucking some off the vine.

to be the sun

MELITA

Damien

i'm trying to run from our pride

The roads into Mourn were quieter than he’d expected, the kind of quiet that pressed against the ears and made every step deliberate. Damien pulled his coat tighter, the chill of Leafchange biting at his neck, and let his eyes drift over the scattered clusters of glowing lanterns and the murmuring crowd. He didn’t hurry. This wasn’t a place for rushing, and he wasn’t here to arrive with anyone else’s timing.

Familiar faces drifted past: Ronin leaning into Remi, Deimos crouched low beside his child, Maea carefully arranging her baskets and jars. Damien offered polite nods as he passed, distant yet observant. He had no reason to force himself into conversations that weren’t his to have.

Aria, however, had her own plan. The tiny snow leopard cub bounded ahead, unsteady paws skidding across the grass as she padded in a straight line toward a figure Damien already recognized. She tumbled once, shook herself, then padded faster, ears flicking forward with excitement.

Theea. 

Aria reached her first, chirping in delight and pawing at the hems of Theea’s clothes, tumbling again as if unsure of her own exuberance. He hung back, heart unsteady despite his calm face. His gaze lingered, caught between caution and something else—something that whispered of the night they’d found Aria, cramped and quiet in the cave, hearts hammering in unison. That memory pressed against him, soft but insistent, as he measured the space between himself and Theea.

Damien followed momentarily, adjusting the lantern he carried. It was etched simply with pine trees and snowflakes, a quiet tribute to the parents he had lost. He let himself step into the light, giving them a respectful distance yet close enough to be part of the moment. He let his eyes meet her icy-blues, voice soft, measured. “Evening.” The word was small, unassuming, but under it lingered the things he never let himself voice: the steady draw, the quiet comfort, the part of him that couldn’t help being glad she was here.

The festival swirled around them—lanterns like captured starlight, soft music threading between the crowd, laughter spilling from children darting in Ludo masks. For a moment, Damien let it all blur, letting the warmth of this reunion settle across his chest, quiet and grounding.

And his eyes caught the subtle truth in the moment: Theea carried nothing herself (other than cider).

He frowned slightly, voice low when he spoke, careful, familiar. “Already set your lantern among the others?”

---

Damien doesn't bring any viable lanterns.

'til you set fire to my atmosphere

// standing, stomping in the damage and the ruins of a slip of tongue //

Infinitely pleased – because Asta absolutely thinks that he’s chock full of fine and good ideas with plenty to spare, he can’t help but to flash his grin back at the Maverick as he keeps him tucked into his side on their approach to the table. Only parting enough to snag food and snacks, specifically focusing on grabbing some of the dried meats and more savory bites. Not for him, of course, but it seems Dantalion has his hands laden with all the things the butcher preferred. It was only fair he do the same.

“I think we have quite a nice spread.” He murmurs, glancing to the plate in his hand that’s harboring a savory charcuterie of choices – meats and cheeses and the crisp crunch of peppery crackers. Once they’ve settled in beneath the gnarled tree, however, the butcher happily offers a bite of the cracker with the meat to his lover as he takes the opportunity to glance over at whom the Maverick is talking about.

And gods, he’d know that look anywhere. Amusement flickers with the curl of his lip at the sight of Remi and Ronin before his attention is fully on his lover. “What a relief. And here I was thinking I had the worst, murdery look in my eyes in the party.” He would if he utilized his haunt, he supposes, but he would never dare to touch more of it than the friendly smiling shadow that hangs on the tree trunk behind them, staring lovingly at Danta the entire time.

Astaroth

// with tragic consequences, i think that we've all made our gravest mistakes //