[PQ] we'll be counting stars

if everything we've got is slipping away

Easily Remi tosses his offering into the flames, watching as pinpoints of firelight eat away at the parchment burning bright holes where stars are meant to be. Without thought he leans gently against Ronin as he watches the paper burn, thinking solemnly of the life that was pulled out of the man he adores above all others, unable to help missing him in that moment even though he is right at his side.

As Amalia begins humming along, the alchemist inclines his head, easily catching onto the melody. He whispers it low for a moment, before slightly louder accompanying her with a voice that is full of melody, if only because of his accent.

To the refrain the alchemist tries to add his own lyrics, a smile on his lips as he tries not to look too adoringly towarsd Ronin. Eyes fixated on the firelight that brightens his shattered gaze, the alchemist adds:

It's far beyond the stars
It's near beyond the moon
I know beyond a doubt
My heart will lead me there soon

We'll meet beyond the shore
We'll kiss just as before
Happy we'll be beyond the sea
And never again I'll go sailing

i meant what i said when i said until my dying day

Coding base by Sky!

Ronin would usually be the type to join in with such a celebration, to add his own voice to the rising chorus or his own beat and rhythm to the melody. But something stole his song tonight, and though his smile was warm and loving to Remi, his posture relaxed, his enjoyment obvious, something unsettled him enough to keep him silent. He felt it, he thought, the sickness that had overtaken the goddess who had given him life once more. He felt it as a tug low in his stomach, as a prickle on his skin, but he didn't want to let that ruin the moment. So he let himself drift into the music and the flames, watching them dance high above the shrine they had created together. ronin begin again, as the storm

Amalia

only lonely hid the morning from the stars

✩

If Amalia notices Deimos' discomfort she does not say anything. Instead she simply pulls herself closer, letting herself lean against him, taking and offering solace in proximity, acceptance and gratitude all she can give. When her song ends and Remi picks up the girl is quick to join in, humming the tune in support of his lyrics, smiling with happiness at this moment of peace. Back and forth they exchange for a while, Amalia pulling old hymns from her memory as the flames continue to dance into the night.

When at last the singing is done and they have sat for a time in companionable conversation, the girl rises up again, stretching as she regains her feet, a smile offered to each of the men. "It's getting late," she murmurs, gazing at the shifting stars. "I... I think I'm going to stay until dawn, but I understand if you want to head home. I just thought before that we might give Safrin our gifts." Picking up the lantern still full of starwhale light, Amalia's face grows clouded a moment, memory pulling bittesweet strings.

Then she shakes her head, and smiles, securing the light at the top of the shrine. "This lantern... it was a wedding present for my great-grandmother. She was named for you, Safrin- Sarafina. She would have wanted you to have this, I think."

---

Last round! Give Safrin your gift and let Amalia know if you're staying the night or if you'll be heading home.

We're lost in the space between
who we are and all that we're trying to be

Remi had sonnets, Ronin had silence, Amalia had comfort, and Deimos had persistence, a perseverance, a tenacity, for things he shouldn’t have sought to claim. But the beats passed, and he placed his drum back into his bag, felt the baker coincide with guidance, with tolerance, with an acceptance of his ridiculous, asinine, unworthy schemes. Before long, the situation altered and changed again, and he swallowed down some strange discomfort, some bizarre apprehension, as Amalia offered up her lantern: prized possessions, heirlooms, fond, family memories for a goddess to have (do they even care? he wondered; as years cultivated into decades, eons, and millennia, as they became specks of dust and soil, withering into the earth). He kept his head down as she explained, because a part of him wanted to steal it back for her, tell her to find something else – but she wouldn’t, he already understood; deities required their sacrifices.

The Reaper bit back a retort, knowing his damned silence must have made this whole evening awkward and uncomfortable, hands fumbling into his satchel for his own offering. He didn’t have a stalwart presentation, and he didn’t have the luxury of objects or items from another world – they were gone, as gone as his family, as gone as old kingdoms – the warrior only had his own hands and some magic to weave together the proffered lacquer.

As he pulled the artifact out, it jingled and jangled restlessly against one another, a flinty, metallic tune as it slowly revealed itself. He’d managed to construct and design a garland of stars fashioned into windchimes; interwoven and laced with one another, one massive star on top with holes (for the sun or the moon to shine through), and a hook; the others following suit along a band of tinier elements and fragments. It didn’t even have a single knife embedded in it (the thought had been there, but it never quite fit in the right places). He rose from his seated position, and followed suit with Amalia’s lantern, tying it beneath the lantern, along the altar, waiting for the breeze to catch it.

DEIMOS

Stop trying to show how to save our souls
It takes dying to know
How to live as ghosts

if everything we've got is slipping away

Remi noted his partner's surprising silence. Taking his cue from the hunter though, he didn't draw attention to it though it began to worry at the back of his mind. Running the tips of his fingers across Ronin's back to eventually give his shoulder a squeeze, Remi offered the man a sidelong glance of concern speckled with love, before turning back towards Amalia to hear her final instruction.

"My stars obviously cannot compare, but I would like to think that perhaps I understand a bit more of you, for having created them." Unable to help it being the romantic that he was, Remi looked down at the two stars he had created as Ronin and Vanya. Vanya's star could of course stay...but Ronin's? The corners of Remi's lips twitched with unsaid affirmations of his love for the ex-captain, as he wrapped his fingers around the softly glowing shape, keeping it for himself.

"What say you? Home to Aoife?" Remi asked with a sliver of a smile in the darkness.

i meant what i said when i said until my dying day

Coding base by Sky!

They all stepped forward with their gifts, a smile touching to Ronin's lips as he watched the shrine receive its first offerings. Retrieving the glowstones he'd painted on, the hunter rose to his feet and nestled them around the outer edge of the white bricks that Deimos and Remi had crafted, so the little altar could be bolstered by his constellations and starlit figures. Stepping back, his smile grew soft and content. There - he could only hope that Safrin liked it as much as they did. "...I think I'd like to stay for a while," he admitted to Remi, a gentle breeze ruffling up his dark hair as he offered his partner a hand up. He just wanted to linger a bit longer and watch the fire - and the dawn, when it inevitably came. ronin begin again, as the storm

They came, they built, they gave and they prayed. And so they would feel it, this little group that gathered on the hill. They would feel the way the shrine seemed to just slot into place among the grasses of the field, the way the flames and smoke licked at the night sky as if they had always meant to be there. In one evening they had created something from nothing (quite literally in some cases), and Vi was pleased with their efforts. Congratulations, PQ group - the shrine has been completed! This will now be added as a sub-board into the Fields as a place of prayer for Safrin/Vi.

she appeared not in a starshower, not peeling through the curtain of reality to suddenly just be before them. Instead, she wavered into being. Like Amalia and Jigano had seen her at the base of the Spire, the goddess was no more than a rough approximation of herself. Stars danced around the outlines of her body given her some sort of form and context, but for the most part she was fairly transparent. Sitting on the shrine constructed in her honour (mostly, anyways), Safrin sighed softly, her galactic gaze falling on the created objects. All received a soft hum of acknowledgement, her fingers moving softly throughout the air before she turned to the group. "This is the first time you have looked better than I do, sugar," Safrin said in a weary voice that tried to sound amused as she glanced towards Ronin. Reaching out, she stroked a hand across his jawline, the back of her hand pressed upon his cheek as she offered him a small and perhaps apologetic smile. Then to Amalia, Safrin leaned down, cupping the girl's face in both of her hands. Her touch was like a gentle breeze; without much weight behind it, but sweet and warm. "You should not have gone to Vi...not for me.." She said, her smile twisted but sweet, like one in a great amount of pain who only offers the bravest of faces. She looks sidelong towards Deimos and Remi, flashing them a humble smile, that is somehow anything but. "And you boys helped as well? For little old me?" She croons, acting the part of the modest maiden though of course she is anything but. Safrin The devil is not as black as he is painted

Amalia

only lonely hid the morning from the stars

✩

They all agree to stay a while, to watch the rising sun. Her heart fills with something warm and happy as she looks upon her assembled friends, truly at peace for the first time in days. Deimos' wind-chime is another show of thoughtful creativity which truly should not surprise her anymore: how many times has she seen beauty and purpose behind the behemoth, a talent for art and wonder and joy in the man she calls her own? Once he hangs the offering she steps in and takes his hand, adoration in her dark eyes, her fingers lacing against his. Wordlessly the girl leans against him, letting her body speak her gratitude, the depth of his appreciation that the man is here. Thank you, her skin whispers on his; I love you, her ardent gaze declares.

There is only one thing left for the girl, but before she can take her final step the air begins to change. Not shimmering, not strengthening, but fluttering, almost, like torn fabric tossed out by the wind, starlit and see-through, a heart-wrenching shade of the goddess Amalia has come to love. The baker's stomach clenches with both joy and misery at the sight; kneeling, reverent, she bows her head as Safrin speaks to Ronin, the three celestials still dancing around her. Far less shy, Jyoti is quick to find a place on Safrin's shoulder, swimming adoringly around the goddess, whalesong and starlight in her wake.

It is not until the deity turns her attention to Amalia that the baker raises up her face, black eyes warm and reverent and adoring as they gaze upon the being who, though diminished, still burns brightly in her heart. And though her hands are on her face, though her voice is sweet and kind, there is something there that hurts the girl, slices deep into her core. Beneath the smile a sadness lurks, and Amalia cannot bear to see it upon this most radiant of beings.

"Why?" she murmurs in reply, genuinely confused. "I would do anything for you." Raising her hands before the goddess, Amalia watches as the trio of small stars fill them, their light twinkling silver against her palms. "He gave me these, for you. To nourish and care for, as you get better."

We're lost in the space between
who we are and all that we're trying to be

All for you he hoped his eyes conveyed, her hand in his, fingers woven together – he wouldn’t have committed to this project otherwise, wouldn’t have cared one figment, one shard, one moment about fallen gods and their trivial games, their trials and tribulations, already full to the brim with problems of his own making. But it was worth it, in the end, to witness gifts coming together, to see the shrine finished, completed, rendered hospitable to whatever divine creature floated among them, to the future worshippers who clamber on their knees and pray, lifting their heads, hoping beyond hope that there was someone listening to them.

The Reaper held faith in himself, in his friends, in his devotion to her, in those things that had proven themselves beyond shadows of doubts.

He wasn’t prepared for the sight to flicker before him: no measure of warning or starlight, a waver, a curl in the shadows, in the breath of dawn – a being, faint, traced, as if she were mere sketches and framework, lost somewhere in the transient and the tangible. She sighed, she moved, and he stood there, stupidly, utterly bewildered.

This was a god.

The only other intervals where he’d caught bits and pieces of celestials had been in another life, another time, and those had been peculiar at best; openly in awe of the Time God as he cultivated their lands into being, then defiant against him whenever possible. The others had kept their distance from him, and vice versa, no relationships forged, no communication opened, no flickers of favor from either side.

He thought his jaw might’ve opened and gaped like a ridiculous fool, closing it quickly, striving to compose those reticent lines and nonchalant features, to appear detached when his heart hammered, when his eyes were widened, and his mind was tangled with the void, the abyss. He didn’t know what to do or where to look, glancing at Ronin and Remi for support, but Ronin had already been entangled with her presence, and Amalia was favored, spoken too as a gift, as a consecration, as a blessing (he’d always understood that, but was content to see that even those looking down upon them could see her for what she truly was).

He didn’t expect the goddess to turn towards him at all; none ever had. Were they supposed to say anything? Was she going to strike him down on the spot? “Yes,” was all he managed to utter, nodding his head in agreement with his speech, tethered in the vast unknown. His gaze wasn’t reverent, wasn’t pious, but curious, inquisitive, behind the layers of carefully-forged detachment.

DEIMOS

Stop trying to show how to save our souls
It takes dying to know
How to live as ghosts

There were few things that could steal Ronin's attention from the people around him, but Safrin managed it with ease. (Especially since he had been brought back to the land of the living by her; that tie went beyond mortal boundaries now, he felt). "Don't be coy, you look beautiful," he said, voice heavy with sorrow as he leaned his cheek into her touch, blue eyes closing for a moment as if to enjoy the peace of her presence. Then she was gone, addressing the others, and the hunter followed her every movement. A worried frown drew his eyebrows together, Ronin feeling quite small and useless as he watched, listened. "Is there anything more we can do for you?" he asked, his fists having subconsciously clenched at his sides. ronin begin again, as the storm

if everything we've got is slipping away

"Oh." Remi said softly, surprised that Ronin wanted to remain out instead of returning home. It worried him in ways he couldn't quite articulate, but even so, the alchemist nodded and sat next to the hunter to await the dawn.

Or...Safrin.

The sudden appearance of the deity had Remi's breath catching in his throat. He too looked toward Deimos with an uncertain haze, knowing that both of their partners had a relationship with the being that they couldn't hope to understand or match. Both Ronin and Amalia voiced the things the alchemist might otherwise have done, and so, not wanting to interrupt the moment, the alchemist merely conjured a pale feather that he twirled nervously between his fingers.

i meant what i said when i said until my dying day

Coding base by Sky!

"I see you've not lost any of your charm." Safrin said to Ronin, her laughter frail sounding. Hollow somehow. Shaking her head softly at Amalia, the goddess tutted gently. "You never need to kneel to me, my precious one." She scolded lovingly, tilting her head to the side to gently embrace the starwhale hovering there. "What a beautiful offering, did you do this for me?" Safrin asked the softly-glowing creature, nodding towards the captured starlight. With a pulse of energy that causes her entire being to fade somewhat, the light intensifies and is made permanent. "Thank you." She whispered, sucking in a breath that only steadies her appearance slightly. There is a weak hesitation on Safrin's normally beatific face, something that speaks of debts incurred and payments that can never be made. "Oh." She whispers softly, her hands moving forward to capture the fledgling celestials as they dance softly. Sighing with reservation, the goddess closes her eyes. The stars pulse softly and their light begins to rain down upon Safrin in a cleansing storm. Her body solidifies slightly, but she is nowhere near her normal effervescent self. Still, she is worlds away from where she was in the Spire. Reaching forward to pull Amalia to her, the goddess wraps her in a starspangled gaze that will send galactic sparks throughout the bakers body. "Thank you." She sings softly into the girl's ear, before pulling away to regard Ronin. "For me? It is I who owe you—" Pulling herself away from Amalia, the goddess moves towards Ronin. Drawing him to her, she places her hands softly on his cheeks and her lips upon his forehead. Where she touches him, light flares through him igniting his every nerve, every vein. Starlight burns away the blight that has infected him, but there is only so much that she can do. Only so much she can give while weakened as she is. Faltering, she nearly collapses, holding against Ronin for strength. "The blight is in me now, and so it is in you.." She explains, her voice no more than a croak as the solidity she possessed only moments ago is now entirely gone. Safrin The devil is not as black as he is painted

Ronin could watch Safrin all day, the hunter smiling softly as she accepted the celestials from Amalia, as she solidified the starlight in the lantern that Jyoti had filled. Something inside him calmed and soothed, as if he had needed this as much as Safrin; to know that the goddess who had breathed life back into him was well enough to see them, to speak with them. And the infant stars seemed to revive her somewhat, Ronin's smile growing as she came to fold him in her arms. Her touch was like the purest of fire, and he breathed easier for it without knowing why. Only... no. He did know why. She had just told him. "What?" he said softly, glancing up at her with uncertainty and reaching out to hold her steady. "No... Not like..." Not like the Undine, who had been so close to death not so long ago. And it had taken the power of a being like Arduinna to cleanse her... what, then, would be needed for something like Safrin? "We'll stop it," he vowed, thinking not of himself at all. "We'll stop the blight." ronin begin again, as the storm