[PQ] light a candle for me

HOTARU

When the wall is clean, Bastien calls to her last, and she goes to him. Folds her legs beneath her to sit before him, watching the pinching and folding of his fingers as he demonstrates what he's looking to make. She dries her hands as she watches him make the first, committing the folds to memory. It is not so hard, not when she is used to memorizing such minute details when making new garments or glass creations. He turns to her for her opinion, and she smiles softly. "I think it's wonderful. Private, but meaningful." Something that perhaps would have helped her, if she had been granted the time to grieve her own children before having her life ripped away in one fell swoop.

The parchment he hands her is thick, sturdy. It resists the more intricate folds, but a press of a nail is enough to force it into submission. Her first is not the most beautiful, a little misshapen, but Hotaru is nothing if not a perfectionist. Seeking to improve upon each little vessel, she makes as many as she can, until the parchment runs out and she's left with a collection of stars ready to be filled with the names of those lost.

she would burn down your kingdoms

herself with it

if it meant your ruin

_{Table Code by Sky!}

BASTIEN

you'll never settle any of your scores
your grace is wasted in your face

Between Deimos 's lights and Oia'i'o 's flowers, the outside of the memorial was beginning to look polished, inviting to those looking for someone to remember their lost ones - Bastien could see interested faces poking around the corner from the main street, looking to see what was going on. "We will soon be done." He assured them.

Harper did a wonderful job with the paint and Bastien hurried along with Hotaru to make paper stars, smiling as she said she approved of the efforts; it meant all the more coming from her, with her unfortunate experience in the matter. Bastien hoped it might help, in any small way, the people of the Hollowed Grounds.

When enough stars were made, the wall was dry and the barrier grown with flowers blooming from it, he motioned for everyone to step back from the memorial and look over it. On a small table just inside the barrier rested the paper stars and pencils, ready for people to write on their memories and names of loved ones and place them on the wall with strings Bastien had affixed to the brick. It was not the most polished piece he had had a hand in, but it was enough; a way to say to the rest of the town that they saw and understood their grief. A suitable way to memorialise those that had gone.

"Thank you all very much, for helping." He looked to each of them, smiling gratefully, even to Oia, who had irritated him at first with her questions; it seemed to just be her nature. "If...any of you knew anyone lost at Fiat Lux, feel free to add a star." With that said, he walked forward himself and picked up a pencil, writing in the first one: Aoife, apple of your fathers eyes and star child. Rest well. He had promised Rexanna she would be remembered along with the rest, after all.

--

Thanks for helping!
Feel free to add a name to the memorial or just say goodbye! <3

your boldness stands alone
among the wreck

Whoa, you let your feet run wild

Time has come as we all go down

It all came together, stepping back amongst the horde to survey their work: portions and scenery meant to provide some quiet, calming ambience in the distinction of remembering. In a way, it would be difficult to not recall the bizarre, bewildering circumstances, the devastation, the ruin, the manifestation of jubilation rendered into despair and terror. But this was for the people, the children, the things lost in the perilous waves, and as Bastien gave them the final instructions, he struggled with what to write or who to portray. His losses were not so grave: Amalia harmed, but lived, Kiada wounded, but healed, Hotaru there, beside him, the rest of his fire-forged family suffering by way of lacerations or memories. His eyes narrowed in thought, pondering over the way in which Ronin and Remi had vanished. Perhaps for them – the unknown departures, the enigmas and shadows cast around their grief.

So he maneuvered forward, grabbing the writing utensil, not anointing anyone by name, a uniform, vague, blanketed approach, but knowing full well who he wrote it for. For those disappeared and lost along the inclinations of the star.

Yeah but for the fall—oh, my—

Do you dare to look them right in the eyes?

DEIMOS

and the only solution was to stand and fight

my body was bruised and i was set alight

With all hands at work, the memorial comes together swiftly, and soon Harper is standing back to take in the entirety of it. It is a bittersweet success, the fact that there was an event to have prompted the creation of this at all a shadow that hangs over him. Oppressive and unforgettable. But even in the darkest days of grief, at least there is this. Companionship, unprompted aid, hope. Harper has seen entire cities razed and raided, has lost so many himself over the years. At least this is familiar. The reconstruction, the need to continue on. Humans are as resilient a species as bedrock and diamonds. Always limping forward on the smallest thread of optimism.

As Bastien closes out the work, offering the stars, Harper moves forward quietly and writes in the names of the three boys he had already become so fond of living with Phoebe. Lost far too soon, long before they became the men they were supposed to be. Before he ever got the chance to know them in their entirety. Their names are scrawled in a hand that shakes, but with a focus to every letter to try and give this one last meaningful tribute, unburdened by his emotions. Rhett. Jax. Cormac. With a sharp inhale he hangs each one tenderly. A little clustered trio, hanging side by side where they belong.

Turning away he moves towards Bastien and - if the man would accommodate - would place a gentle hand upon his shoulder. "Thank you for doing this." And so saying would quietly take his leave.

but you came over me like some holy rite

and though I was burning, you're the only light

HARPER