[SWE] The Feast of Bells - 320PC

Maea

My heroes had the heart to lose their lives out on the limb

Pleasant tingles shivered across her skin when Liam's breath tickled her ear, arching like lightning down every limb until she felt supercharged. How they managed to settle into the hammock without spilling food, drink or entirely too much clothing she had no idea, but as it kept Maea from turning a tiny gesture into a big invite, it proved a good distraction. Only the slight flush of her cheeks betrayed just how happy she was to see him again as she leaned into Liam's side, nibbling on fruit and sweetmeats as he began to tell her about his time in Hak Etme. The tiniest wrinkle of her nose appeared at the turn of phrase he chose, however.
"Civilize it, huh... not too much though, I hope? That'd take the charm right out of a place." It was part of what she loved so much about the Greatwood; the wildness of it, how so little beyond the Sidhe Village had been bent to accommodate mankind. Sure, a few conveniences wouldn't be dreadful, but imagining paved roads and the kind of dense population one used to see in places like Stormbreak left her uneasy, somehow. Was it an influence of Dygra on her, or simply a love for wild places acquired over years spent roaming them? Maea wasn't sure.

Looking up when the soft sparkle of gems caught her attention, Maea too greeted Nova's approach with a raised cup and a warm smile. "Hey you. It's been a while. "
Pale eyes lingered thoughtfully on the exuberant young woman while Liam explained about their recent adventure, soothing any initial jolt of concern into quiet puzzlement. "A... nightmare creature? What makes you say that?" And while she was relieved that neither of them had been injured... "That must have been unsettling. How do you feel?"

And I remember thinking — I want to be like them

Stronger with every loss,

Grinning at Maea's greeting, Nova raises her glass in response. "Too long." She'd been too busy with her adventures and chaos to visit her friend, but she's already regretting it, wishing she had taken the time to see Maea in the Greatwood. But she hides the regrets in a sip of her drink. It tastes better than the first and she hopes she might feel the effects of it soon. 

Glad to hear Liam doesn't sound bothered by the events, she lets him explain what transpired. Nova adds a shrug of her shoulders, unsure why the 'nightmare' comparison feels so apt. "It was ugly. Too many eyes. Giant claws." She'd be happy to give it some notes if it wasn't trying to slash them to ribbons. 

At Maea's question, she smiles a little too wide, her voice a little too bright. "I'm fine. No injuries to be found." At least no visible ones, and not from the creature. 

Wanting to not talk about that fight and all she should have done differently, Nova swings things back to the other members of the conversation with another smile. "How's your night going?"

brighter with every win

Nova

The universe is full of magical things

Having darted towards the desserts, Knell almost misses Astaroth's greeting. In a flurry of white fabric and red curls, she spins to give him a wave and a bright smile, making note to grab him something from the dessert table as well. Maybe she should have brought a basket or something to carry all the desserts, because Asta's lying next to someone else that she assumes is Dantalion and from what she's read, it's friendly to bring everyone a treat in a group, especially when meeting for the first time. So that means desserts for her, her mom, Asta, and Dantalion - and of course she can't just bring one for each person. 

When Knell finally stops to look at the platters of desserts - ogling the vibrant colors and delicious scents - she's relieved to see a large empty plate she can grab for her loads of sweets. Her arm struggles to reach over the edge of the table, wiggling a few times as she lets out a small grunt, fingers stretching and barely brushing the plastic so that it tilts rather than pull towards her. 

She pauses a moment before trying again, her head turning when a voice sounds next to her. Looming above is an Ancient woman with dark skin, curly hair, and a mischievous smile that's quickly biting into a red tart that makes her mouth water. Finally managing to snag the plate, she relaxes back on the balls of her feet and tilts her head to consider the question. "I don't know. What if the desert has bugs on it? Or worse," she looks around to make sure no one is listening before whispering "coffee" really loudly to Aithne. 

Grabbing a handful of cookie looking things, she begins to pile various delicacies onto her platter without any signs of discrimination - obviously intending to try everything despite the risk. "Did you know it stunts growth?" she adds curiously, eyes bright with the light of knowledge and learning that she's been stuffing into her brain. "It's also addictive." Although she's not sure that's a downside, not really clear on what 'addictive' means, but her head raises with pride for having known it all the same.

Knell

patiently waiting for our wits to grow sharper.

Calan

Calan is still beneath the table when a familiar chirp sounds near his ear, soft enough not to carry past the drape of cloth. He pauses mid-survey and turns his head to find Oria hovering beside him, ghostly and small in the dim little world of chair legs and shifting shoes. "Are you here to keep an eye on me?" he whispers, narrowing his own at her. When the spriggan nods, Calan considers this for a moment, then gives her a solemn little nod back. "Well, as long as it’s just an eye, that’s okay."

He pokes his head out from beneath the tablecloth then, catching sight of Finch crouched beside his brother. The thief’s voice is too low to make out properly, but Calan doesn’t need to hear much before his mind supplies the important bits of what's probably happening based on their last meeting: hands grabbing, wrists, a threat about being their brother, and the general inconvenience of grown people deciding they could just take hold of you whenever they liked.

Crawling out from under the table with Oria settling onto his shoulder, Calan stands and makes his way over until he’s nearly eye level with Finch where the thief is kneeling. "Just so you know," he says, not quite accusingly but with enough weight behind it to make clear that he’s keeping records, "our dads are here, so you can’t grab us and yell that you’re our brother again." On his shoulder, the small ghostly spriggan chirps in confused but supportive agreement of her ward.

---

Calan goes to stand with Finch and Carlo

you are a victim of the rules you live by

Code stolen from Queen Sky

I salute you if you're much too much to handle

Aithne is immediately rather put off by the idea of bugs on her dessert, and holds up the tart she's currently devouring as though to scour it for any such creatures. "Okay, you got me there," she says, nodding to herself as she determines that no bugs have infiltrated her dessert. "Bugs would be disgusting. Although," she adds mischievously. "They say they have lots of protein, so it might make up for the coffee." Not that she's ever heard of coffee being particularly problematic (or if she has, she promptly discarded the thought), but hey, who is she to question the tiny demigod?

In any case, Aithne figures she might as well play along. "I didn't know that," she says seriously. "About coffee being addictive, I mean." A lie, of course. She absolutely knew that coffee could be addictive. It's the one thing that Knell said that Aithne acknowledged as fact. "Better be careful with those, then," she says of the small cookies that Knell has shoveled onto her plate. "I bet those have loads of coffee in them."

Aithne

Minor powerplay allowed without permission.
Feel free to use force/magic on Aithne.

And I can still see it all In my mind
All of you, all of me Intertwined

Liam laughed as Maea wrinkled her nose. "'Civilize' is probably too strong a word," he agreed. "But it has a skyport, and a regular port, and some semblance of a town - if you count a sea of tents as a town." Certainly it was still wild - and, like Maea, Liam was hopeful that it would maintain a bit of that even as they sought to colonize the area. After all, having grown up in Stormbreak and lived for a long time now in the Greatwood, the man had seen both sides and come out preferring the wilderness, to some degree.

Then Nova appeared, and Liam fell to explaining their recent escapades. "It was... odd," he said. "It was huge, wasn't it, Nova? And kind of skeletal, like it was made out of dry roots for bones, and it had way too many eyes, and it bled... light?" Liam glanced over at Nova, as though waiting for her to confirm his account. Then, shaking his head. "I wish we'd gotten there sooner. It had destroyed a caravan before we stumbled across it. It seemed like it was hunting dream cacti."

As for how he was doing, Liam offered a soft smile. "I'm fine, love. We handled it, and it's gone now." It was something he could fight, and that had never been something that bothered him. It was the things he couldn't physically fight that had gotten him into trouble in the past.

With that seemingly settled, and Nova changing the subject, Liam was content to let it go. It was over and done with, after all. Perhaps it was just one of those things that happened in Caido sometimes. "It's going well for me," he said in response to the young woman's query, but he smiled down at Maea as he spoke. "It's nice to relax, after working so hard in the desert all this time."

I once believed love would be Black and white
But it's golden

Liam

Maea

My heroes had the heart to lose their lives out on the limb

It sounded strange alright, but not alarmingly so. Preternatural creatures and events were par for the course in Caido, and cactus eating beasts with light for blood wasn't odd enough to leave her worried. Curiosity, now that was another thing entirely. "Now I wish I had joined you for that trip. It might have been interesting to examine the critter closer. Where did it appear? Maybe there's something left of it..." Though with LongNight fast approaching it would be difficult to get out there before the desert reclaimed the carcass... Despite her best attempts to curb the enthusiasm, her interest still showed like a glitter in her eyes, and it was only reluctantly that Maea allowed the subject to shift to the party.

"Between the food, the drink and present company, I've nothing to complain about," she told Nova. "Care to squeeze in? I'm sure we can fit one more in here." Scooting closer to Liam she opened her other arm to their young friend to help her into the hammock. The number of people she would have extended such an offer to wasn't great, but Nova felt more like family than most - and this was the kind of night where company made every bit of difference.

And I remember thinking — I want to be like them

Stronger with every loss,

Nova nods her head as Liam talks. He describes the creature well enough, down to the strange sand-light-stuff pouring from its mouth and wounds. She hums her confirmation before pausing to consider Maea's thoughts, shrugging her shoulders as she breaks the news. "All that was left was some bag that Kaisel picked up." As for what was in the bag, she didn't really know or care. The thing's dead and no one got hurt because of her. She likes the think it's all over now. 

The offer to join them is met with a small giggle, looking at the small space on the side of the hammock. As much as she appreciates the offer - and she really does - Nova hesitates, doubting that it will be the most comfortable, or that it will help much with people thinking she's 'childish.' 

Shifting her feet, she glances between the two. "Are you sure? It doesn't look like there's much room. I could find another hammock." There's one close by where they could still chat, one where they won't be trying to imbed limbs where they don't belong.

brighter with every win

Nova

for 1000 nights i've been a restless soul

Remi’s smile goes a little crooked at that, the agreement there but carefully unspoken, as though saying it aloud might jinx the whole thing. Between Sugar’s broad sweep of the sky and Oria working nearer the ground, it ought to be enough; more than enough, really. Still, he’s grateful for the way Ronin says it, for the quiet permission in it to worry without having to pretend it is anything other than love.

He leans into the kiss before he can help himself, cheek dimpling beneath Ronin’s mouth. "Why would Mort make me the strongest demigod," he asks, lifting one brow with a kind of mock gravity, "if not for this exact reason?" The look lasts only a moment before a soft snicker slips from him, and he shifts his overfilled plate into both hands as if that might make its increasingly dubious construction any safer.

His gaze follows Ronin’s toward the available seating, passing over the hammocks with a slight frown, before tipping his chin instead toward a small knot of chairs grown around a low table, their roots thick where they met the ground. A familiar voice catches his attention before they can make it very far, and Remi glances over to find Zavien approaching through the press of festival-goers. His smile comes easily for the other man, warm despite the way he must tilt his plate out of the path of a passing elbow.

The question of the baby has the Bastion blinking in mild surprise, his eyes sliding sideways toward Ronin with a wry flicker of amusement before returning to Zavien, with an almost apologetic smile. "We are good," he says first, inhaling through his smile. "Though we actually had twins." His eyes drift out over the tables and the crowd, skimming beneath low branches and between moving bodies in search of any sign of familiar dark heads. "They are around here," Remi adds, his tone fond enough to soften the uncertainty in it, "somewhere."

The universe is full of magical things

Even though she's the one who brought it up, Knell still checks the table for bugs, glancing at every chocolate chip and speck of vanilla like it might start crawling across the table. They are in the middle of a forest after all; but the food must be enchanted or something, because she doesn't see anything suspicious amongst the treats. 

Despite the woman's advertisement for the health benefits of bugs, she's met with squinted eyes and a scrunched nose. "Ew. No thank you. They're wiggly." What if they try to crawl out of her mouth? What if they try to crawl out of her stomach? 

Her tail twitches playfully behind her, happy to share what she's learned rather than worry about bugs entering her digestive system. Smiling at Aithne, she confirms, "I read it in a big book about plants." Knell gives a considering tilt of her head before adding politely, "You can borrow it if you want." Maybe the Ancient will enjoy learning about the topic as much as she did. 

Moving from the cookies to the tarts, she pauses to pick one up, inspecting it closely for signs of coffee. Not seeing any, she experiments by holding it close to her nose, looking for that reddish scent of sharp bitterness. "How do you know? They smell like chocolate to me."

Knell

patiently waiting for our wits to grow sharper.

Kaisel

One foot in the ground
One foot in the grave

The notion of a new position, offered with the subtlety of privacy in this little part of the world they've carved out for each other mid-party, alongside the implication that Flora 'd be willing to try it, immediately unseats every part of his expression. Something that's a mixture of excited and devious runs away with the shape of his face, telling of his thoughts a moment before he lends them voice. "Sky-anchor swivel kiss?" He's definitely looking up at the sky, and gravity definitely swiveled something around for this kiss he claims.

It's not real, of course, the ask about the sky-anchor swivel kiss. He's long decided that it's Mormon, taking one meaning and dressing it up as another, like penetration being likened to a bath. The sky-anchor swivel kiss is clearly reverse cowgirl with an angle.

The memory of it being tossed out on the Sugartide that fateful night only serves to deepen the urge to kiss her as he leans up. When they connect, it feels far too much like the first time—just as electric, his pulse thundering over his ears and bringing color to his cheeks while his stomach bottoms out in his abdomen. Because every time, each moment with her is its own, and in that way he's kissing her for the first time all over again. When would they ever be back in a nest of vines beneath a hammock in Deepfrost, then the sky looks just like this, and a leaf joins them? This is both the first and the last, and he'd not waste a second loving her like it was anything short of extraordinary.

As she laughs, he leans back into the pillow of ground, grinning. "Okay," he admits with a huff. "Maybe a little more comfortable would be nice. Gerup and lets try this hammock again."

It's not the devil at your door
It's just your shadow on the floor

is this the end of all the endings?

The fabled sky-anchor swivel kiss catches Flora so entirely off guard that her laughter spills out before she can stop it, bright and breathless in the little nest they’ve made of themselves beneath the failed hammock. It floods their bond at the same time, all sparkling amusement and the faintly wicked satisfaction of realizing exactly what he means by it, because of course he has held onto that particular memory and kept it somewhere safe to be retrieved at the most inconvenient possible moment.

With mischief already glittering in her aqua gaze, Flora gives the smallest, most suggestive shrug against him. "I did tell you that night you should have taken up my offer of the cards," she murmurs, the memory sweetening her smile as much as it sharpens it. Then she leans down to meet his mouth again, because it would be criminal not to, her tongue a coy quill against his own as though she might write out every occasion he’d failed to listen to her, each one utterly to his detriment.

There are people all around them, friends and family among them, and probably any number of festival-goers who have already noticed the Queen of Torchline and her husband fiance tangled beneath a hammock like they’ve been abandoned there by a particularly affectionate storm, but Flora can’t quite bring herself to care. When Kaisel gives her the full, undivided force of his attention, the rest of the world has a habit of going soft at the edges until there’s only the glint of copper in his eyes, the warmth of him beneath her, and the familiar, ongoing miracle of being wanted so thoroughly by someone she still can’t believe she gets to keep.

It makes each kiss feel caught between two instincts: the urge to linger over it, to savour every impossible second of this moment exactly as it is, and the urge to seize it greedily before it can slip away. Her mouth does both, slow enough to make a promise of it and hungry enough to make clear that she has no intention of being reasonable.

When he finally suggests they trade the ground for something less humiliating, Flora lets out a theatrical groan as if he’s proposing hard labour. "Fineuh," she sighs, with the long-suffering patience of a woman being asked to leave her perfectly adequate husband-shaped cushion. Sliding her knees to either side of him, she braces both palms against his broad chest and pushes herself upright, sweater falling back into place around her hips. Before offering him a hand, Flora reaches down to pluck the leaf from the side of his face, twirling it between two fingers with exaggerated consideration.

my broken bones are mending

Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3

Thalassa

Standing there, killing time,
Can't commit to anything but a crime

The dessert table is quite robust, sporting more than enough options for her to choose from, but it's also crowded with people. She manages to slip between a few people, overhearing some peculiar conversations about bugs and pockets, but she doesn't linger. A few chocolate petit fours make their way onto her small plate - along with a couple of berries to bite through the richness - and then she's gone with little less than a twinkle from the bells on her horns. 

Thal weaves her way through the tables towards one at the edge of the party, especially when she spots a few... undesirable faces. Deciding that she'd rather enjoy her desserts in silence than risk drawing their attention, she finds a quiet corner to watch whatever chaos might unfold. There appear to be a few interesting characters stirring in the crowd, and she hides a mischievous grin behind an indulgent bite of a tiny chocolate cake.

Kaisel

One foot in the ground
One foot in the grave

A hum of agreement is the only answer he can rouse before his mouth is occupied, which he doesn't mind in the slightest. Although if this is the outcome of not listening, he's liable to make a habit out of it. Mm, we could always review them together. Seems like something best studied in pairs. The offer curls through the connection as lazy as fog over a lake, lingering with the shape of its meaning. Curiosity glints beneath it, yellow and vibrant, in a way that threatens to be swallowed by the thicker haze.

Any other semblance of thought dissolves on the spot, replaced only with her. The insistence of her lips is beyond his ability to deny, not that he's ever tried. His hand lifts of its own accord, cupping her face again as he pushes up into the heat of her breath and the press of her mouth on his. He forgets, for a moment, that he even wanted to get up. It seems a foolish thing to want now.

Drawing in a deep, resentful breath as she parts from him, his fingertips are slower to do the same, gradually trailing past her jaw and down her arm, ending with a defeated flop back against the foliage. "This feels like effort now," he complains, the issue pointed entirely at him. He is just quite certain that continuing to lie here any longer will invite all manner of jungle creepy crawlies to acquaint themselves with the space between his skin and clothing.

Starting to grunt when she pushes off him, he quickly bites it off, eyes widening faintly with alarm as his gaze tracks her. The last thing he needs is an accusation of calling her fat without ever saying anything near it. As any man knows, there's no greater threat to his life than that misunderstanding. "Hurry," he urges her though, his mind convincing itself he just felt a brush of too many feet on his side, cheek twitching where the removal of the leaf sits with more weight than its presence ever had. "I feel like a sitting duck for nature."

It's not the devil at your door
It's just your shadow on the floor