[PQ] [seasonal event] kindness keep a lonely company

AMALIA They are quick and eager to get to work, soothing some of the baker's fears. Greetings are exchanged, alliances formed- Amalia watches it all in silence, a bittersweet smile on her face. Her grandmother would be proud. But it doesn't make the ache of her loss any less. She watches the bakers choose their herbs intently. Her grandmother used to say you can tell a lot about a person by the things they eat, and the selection of seasonings changes the flavor of each one in her mind. Jigano's herbs are strong and symphonic, like the bard himself. Kiada's lavender, cinnamon, and honey are a spicy tune with a sweet interior. Deimos' selection is the most surprising: honey and cinnamon, sweet and spice, simple yet rich- and she flashes a curious glance at the man, a half-smile on her dark lips as he interacts with Kiada. There is something else in her, though, something dark and squeezing as she watches their exchange. She wants those smiles directed at her- Flushing slightly, she looks away, attention turning back to her bread. "Time to turn it out and knead," the baker instructs. Then, jokingly, a line used by her grandmother when they were children, unbridled and wild: "Whoever has the least flour on them at the end wins a prize!" Amalia smiles brightly at the memory and turns to the banner making group, blissfully unaware of the chaos about to unfold. The three women are discussing intently, and Amalia only catches a snippet of the conversation as they begin to leave the shop. "Ribbons, paint, and pressed flowers- just look out for chorus bees!" Deimos, Jigano, Kiada - start kneading your bread! Whoever is cleanest at the end wins- will you compete by protecting yourself, or taking down your opponents?! Rexanna, Lily, Phoebe - as you go out into the garden you see lilies, lavender, and poppies blooming wildly in the garden! They're gorgeous, and some are larger than normal blooms of their species... The linen, meanwhile, is hanging on a line in the middle of a swarm of chorus bees! Currently content to hum a cheery tune, who knows what they'd do if you came too close? What will you choose to do? I tend to avoid getting emotional I'm not shutting you out It's just the way I'm born But I see myself next to you until we're old

D e i m o s

Send a heartbeat to the void that cries through you
Relive the pictures that have come to pass

The introductions continued, and despite the mischief in the air, starting and corresponding directly from his own actions, he nodded at the formal audience with Jigano. He didn’t really know the man at all, aside from gatherings, but there was often a lot of yelling and complaining amidst the fold, and Deimos rarely said much of anything. Loreseeker and bard was an intriguing combination – scholar and singer – and he had half a notion to ask him what tunes or vocals inspired him, but the mention of taste-testing sparked a more devious inclination. “Perhaps we can sneak some,” he whispered, purposefully hushed, drawing his eyes back over to Amalia as she was giving directions to the other participants. It was devilishly induced, but only because he presumed she wouldn’t mind, and because he’d truly like to taste the relish of sweet and spice mixed together; forever snatching his mother’s baking off countertops and rushing out the door before she could catch him. Then there was Kiada – who was just as nefarious as he, wicked beings from wicked places, unimpressed or amused by his veracity. He shrugged, gaze flicking back and forth between mother and daughter, and while key notes and differences were there, Rexanna was still ultimately blood of her blood – but with his subtle motions, he’s opened himself up to full frontal assault, instantly doused and coated in flour, especially in his beard, and the front of his chest. Perhaps a rational demon would be more composed by the sudden siege, but Deimos held too much iniquity in the depths of his existence – a looming, impish grin enfolding itself across his features. The puncturing, piercing shade of his stare registered the bowl of flour again, placing his palms entirely in its container until they were coated white. Then he reached for her face, attempting to grab hold (gently, squeezing them a smidge just to see her look a bit like a fish; he wasn’t a total barbarian) of her cheeks with the lacquer of fresh flour still stuck to his skin. “Would I lie to you?” He gazed at her, that ridiculous rogue smile lingering on his lips, before dragging his palms across her features, releasing her with devilish delight, fully intending to leave the pale remnants on her skin. Vengeance crooned its way through him as a bellowing laugh, before altering his attention back to Amalia. Kneading meant he would be able to beat and pulverize the dough, watching the baker in her methodical measures, then attempting to follow suit. He grabbed hold of the mass and rammed his hands into its containments, turning the dough over while listening to her sudden proclamation – eyes glowing again in their irrepressible tendencies towards mischievous ease. Game on. His movements were quick, sudden, and swift, and though he wasn’t on a battlefield, not on any stage or dais of war, the impulses and precision were still there, molded right into his bones, his elements, his presence. His hands dove right back into the flour bowl, sending fistfuls in various directions, sailing towards poor Jigano, who likely hadn’t deserved any of the melee, to Amalia, because he wasn’t about to leave her out, and to Kiada, who required constant payback. For now we stand alone, the world is lost and blown And we are flesh and blood disintegrate with no more to hate

Jigano was more than happy to scratch at Auni’s ears and rub his head as the last of the introductions were made and they settled in to work. He tied his wide sleeves back with practiced efficiency, baring his honeyed arms almost to the shoulder before making use of the water. With clean hands and his chosen ingredients he set to kneading, tossing Kiada  and Deimos a conspiratorial grin at their agreement. ”Surely no one will notice just a few small nibbles taken out of the loaves?” he suggested slyly, sharing the lavender with the young woman.  There was something else going on between her and Deimos, an established friendship he found himself an outsider of, but that didn’t really matter. He was here to help Amalia, and Rexanna and Phoebe were present as well, so he felt comfortable in working silently, even starting to hum a little – though sharp blue eyes caught his fellow bakers’s antics as they whispered and glanced towards those who were making decorations.

Still, he wasn’t particularly bothered until a billow of mis-thrown flour from Kiada caught him a dusty white splash on his elbow. The pale brow arched as he looked at his companions with an expression caught between humor and exasperation. At least, he was exasperated until Amalia gave her blessing to the game, and then blue eyes sparked with mischief, his smile turning just a touch wicked. He waited for her to give her directions to the banner crew before snaking an arm around her to try and dab a spot of flour on her nose. ”Don’t think you can declare a prize and then claim it so easily!” he teased her, before turning back to his bread to knead it – using as little flour as he thought he could get away with, to keep his hands clean beneath the wrist. He kept a wary eye out on Kiada and Deimos, however, ready to duck if the big man retaliated for the scarred woman’s antics – and he did, indeed! Jigano spun, turning to let the flour land in his hair, white on white, and protected his clothing from the worst of it before turning back to his dough and working it with long, elegant fingers that focused on copying Amalia’s technique rather than brute strength as he began to quietly sing a song he had learned from Rory, about Rae and Flowerbirth. It made for a good rhythm to the kneading, in spite of the war going on across the table.

REXANNA

paint my spirit gold

As Lily spoke and eyes her, Rexanna offered a grin in return. “I suppose that’s true.” She said with a roguish whisper and a wiggle of her eyebrows before Phoebe joined them. Lucky for Rexanna, they all seemed willing to join in on the adventure of getting the cloth, and she glanced toward Amalia as Lily spoke her question to see what the woman would like the banners adorned with. As Phoebe spoke up about flowers, Rexanna nodded to that too — wondering if some kind of mosaic look with painted flowers and real flowers would make for a wonderful gift for Fiat Lux’s soon to be festivities.

As they begin to make their way outside, she catches Amalia’s instruction, pausing to turn toward her friends with an inquisitive look. “What’s a chorus bee?” She whispered to them as the corner of her lip rose in a small smile, wondering if they had any idea what they should be expecting. Singing bees? Bees at all? There were so many questions, but she nodded to Amalia if she looked and decided on heading outdoors to see what awaited the trio. She spotted the flowers in the back that Phoebe and Amalia must have spoke of, then an idea of the location of the cloth.

“Here goes nothing?” She half joked to the group, stepping out into the back to see what kind of thing a chorus bee was, if there were any back here.

KIADA

She agrees with Jigano and Deimos’ sentiments as she eyes the bread laden with herbs and spices, but as she calls Deimos out in his attempts at humor, she notices as her hand leaves the flour that engulfs her friend’s beard and chest, that Jigano takes note of it. She has no fear of Amalia, despite coming to offer her help, and as Amalia speaks of the least amount of flour adorning the person would win a prize she laughs a chiming bubbling sound with the woman. Kiada knows she will not win, not with the war started with the Reaper. But the grin on his face and the way his hands reach into the flour and grip onto her face, pushing her lips out in a fish way and mentions if he’d lie to her, she wants to laugh. Instead, with her face still squeezed by the Reaper, she manages a distorted sound. “I fink so.”

Deimos releases her face finally yet not before adorning her with more flour, and she hisses a laugh under her breath — a part of her feeling bad for Jigano in the mess between the two of them, but she cannot be outdone. And Amalia announces their turn to start to knead the bread, and she fills her hands with flour to get started. Turning out her bread and beginning to knead it, she eyes Deimos a bit warily though a wolfish grin sits on her lips, turning the edges up. After a few moments, she reaches up with her arm to push back the stray dark hairs from her face, adorning her with a sprinkling of more flour along her nose. And with the motion, she takes her floury hand and turns it to Deimos with a sprinkle of flour along his head before her hands return to the bread.

Then, as if to make it more difficult for him, she bows her elbows out and pushes into Deimos to throw him off with his own kneading; that same mischievous grin along the Harpy’s face.

AMALIA "Oh no-" But it is too late. She has unleashed chaos, and now the girl can only watch in hapless bemusement as chaos unfolds within her bakery. Deimos is the first to partake: another surprise in a series of many, another sign of the human soul beneath the glacial man. Amused, she watches him grab Kiada's face, something fragile fluttering inside her chest at the sight of his smile, the sound of his laugh. It is not for her, but it is something- and she feels a strange success at her part in it all, a certain pride in knowing that perhaps she helped to draw the fire from inside his core. The moment is destined to be short-lived. At first, it seems the trio will set to the task of kneading with something akin to dignity, but Amalia is quickly dissuaded from that notion as Deimos scoops up a fistful of flour. Ducking to avoid the worst of the onslaught, the girl cannot help the bubbling laughter which escapes her lips, surprise and delight dancing together in dulcet, alto tones. No sooner does she rise again - honey hair now flecked with white, having taken most of the assault - then a long finger reaches out to tap her nose, Jigano's sly smile a wicked, wily thing. The baker puts her hands on her hips, attempting and failing to look appropriately displeased before finally breaking down into another grin, her tongue sticking out in a teasing raspberry. At least Kiada has remained respectable (or so she mistakenly thinks, though there is a suspicious sprinkling of pale flour upon the woman's nose). Turning back to the younger girl, Amalia proceeds with the next set of instructions, demonstrating once again. "Ok, now roll your dough out - like this - and then split it into five equal parts. Four of the sections you'll flatten between your hands." In a rare, almost unconscious act of showing off, Amalia grabs one of her dough balls and twirls it deftly between her fingers, creating a smooth half-inch thick disc within a matter of seconds. "The last section you break into four parts and use to decorate. See-" And, again, she acts with practiced speed, spinning out a long and slender rope of dough before delicately shaping a sun upon her loaf, a traditional Fiat Lux design. Deimos, Jigano, and Kiada - bread part of the PQ is moving on! Shape your loaves into discs, and then decorate! Jigano is currently winning the flour fight! You two gonna just take that?! I tend to avoid getting emotional I'm not shutting you out It's just the way I'm born But I see myself next to you until we're old

D e i m o s

Send a heartbeat to the void that cries through you
Relive the pictures that have come to pass

Despite the notion that they’ve reverted straight back into children, Deimos was not the least bit bothered. Kiada bowed her elbows out and attempted to force him away from his brute, forceful kneading, shook more flour into his hair, and he had every assertion that he had no chance in the promised game. Nonetheless, the soldier had no intention of accepting defeat so easily, taking in his Pyrrhic victories, his brutal assaults, the sieges upon his person with the grace of a dignified warrior – until turnabout became fair play. He could hear Amalia’s gasp of oh no, but it was far too late to even muddle his pursuits. He shoved Kiada back with a ramming motion of one shoulder, and while the movement wasn’t anointed or consecrated in his overwhelming might and vigor, he hoped it’d be enough to settle some form of vengeance or payback. It was all in merriment, in fun, in jubilation, and he hadn’t heard such a thing, had such a series of moments, in so long that he took none of it for granted, grasped hold and clenched it along the frozen, glacial parameters of his being. His laughter reverberated and ricocheted, amusement spreading through his veins, and only dissipated when they were inclined to listen to directions again. The Reaper watched as Amalia demonstrated; though there was a certain flair there that she might have conjured for the sake of showing off – he narrowed his eyes and snorted, but said naught. He rolled his dough out, but not nearly as fluid or graceful, following the instructions with careful, scrupulous aplomb, forever diligent in his actions, calculating. His machinations didn’t end there, however. While they flattened out edges and designed shapes, his gaze took in Jigano, leaning in towards Kiada again with a conspiring whisper beckoning, nefarious quarters and summons, through his lungs. “Look at him. Hardly any flour at all.” The great beast shook his head, more of the aforementioned powder flickering off his form and onto the floor, his fingers sketching out a rough outline of a snowflake along his dough (almost without thought at all; a picture always framed in his mind, banners behind his eyes). “I suggest we join forces.” He arched his brow at her, then leaned back, pretending to be completely absorbed in his task, fingers working out the rest of the roping sanctions, nose inhaling the sweet and spicy scents pervading the sanction. When his fingers touched along the flour again, they might’ve appeared quite innocent, but the rogue, wicked demeanor was still alive and incensed, kindled in his motions, as he swiftly gathered up a large quantity in his palm. While Jigano seemed occupied, he tossed the mess overhand, hoping it spread along the depths of the man’s clothing, visible and obvious. For now we stand alone, the world is lost and blown And we are flesh and blood disintegrate with no more to hate

KIADA

The delight in Amalia’s laugh makes it all the more fun for the girl, and she soon pays attention to how much flour there is decorating Jigano and Amalia, having had her fun with Deimos already. They both were covered in flecks of white, and she imagines that she’ll likely continue to find it days from now. But it seems as Deimos’ booming voice erupts in laughter at the table, Kiada can’t hide her own chime of snickering that accompanies it.

It’s all in good fun, and she does her best to listen to Amalia’s instructions – focusing hard on rolling the dough out and splitting it. She flattens the four pieces that Amalia has demonstrated, marveling slightly at the ease the woman works with it, before she tries her hand at it and takes a bit longer to accomplish. But she does, and she moves on to the decorating, glancing sideways at Deimos’ snowflake and smiling softly at it – imagining that she knows the reason why the Reaper has chosen such a thing – and turns back to hers, staring at it briefly before sketching in a small bird with wide wings of flight.

“For Khairi.” She thinks to herself as Deimos leans in to speak to her. And as he does, her eyes slide toward the pale haired man innocently as if she’s trying to see what design he decides to go with. She gives Deimos a small brisk nod, watching while he dips his hand into the flower and she does the same, grabbing a large fistful – but to make it less conspicuous, she sprinkles a bit across the top of her dough innocently.

Then, when Deimos strikes in the front in an attempt to get the flour onto Deimos, she swirls around behind him to try and toss the flour toward him from behind in case he tries to step back and avoid the onslaught.

They weren’t all going to make it out of here clean.

A smiling, laughing Amalia was a balm to Jigano’s heart and he was more proud and pleased than he had any right to be at her joy. A joy that was, he noticed slyly, directed with a lingering gaze on the big man with the beard, a spark of something intriguing in her dark-eyed gaze that the bard itched to encourage. But first he had to survive the flour fight that was accompanying their baking – and learn how to bake while he was at it!

They all settled down for a moment while Amalia demonstrated her skills with a fine aplomb and flair that the showman in the bard could appreciate. He might not have her skill and experience, but his fingers were deft as he reached for his own dough and began to copy her example – with only the first loaf coming out a little lumpy. After that he got the hang of it, and though he kept a wary eye across the table at first, it seemed Deimos and Kiada were momentarily absorbed in the joy of decorating. With a slight hum of music in this throat he turned his attention to his own loaves consideringly. He was no great artist, to make some clever abstract design out of slender ropes and strings of dough. He had no symbol to call his own, as Deimos seemed to have. A brief consideration of a bird – his own raven form as inspiration – was dashed by Kiada’s swifter fingers, and he let his attention wander from his companions for a moment as he sought something simple yet meaningful he could use. He reached for the flour as Kiada and Deimos pulled away from the bowl…

His distraction proved his undoing. He caught Deimo’s overhanded toss at the last moment and tried to dance back – directly into Kiada’s clever attack from the rear. The result was a light dusting of flour on his front and a larger puff of what powder across his shoulders and hair, turning his golden skin pale along his bared arms. He didn’t – quite – yelp, but retribution was swift as he turned and flung his handful of flour at Kiada’s front in retaliation, laughing as he did so. ”Hey! Your dough is over there! You knead to stop loafing around and get back to work!” He tossed her a wink and truly wicked grin at his horrible pun, but figured she had earned it with her unprovoked attack!

Struck by inspiration, he turned back to his own loaves and swiftly rolled out his thin ropes to make a simple crescent moon pattern to compliment Amalia’s suns, making sure to Deimos and Kiada in sight now!

Lily sing me a song of a lass that is gone Chorus Bee? Lily shrugs and spreads her hands wide in response. It’s the first she’s heard of them. “Bees that… sing?” If so, they’re her kind of bees. Hot on Rexanna’s heels, she follows the other out back, assuming that Phoebe will join them and determine which flowers were most worthy of dying for the Festival. Stepping out behind the shop is like stepping into a wildflower field. It truly is spring! But it looks like the object of their search is indeed surrounded by bees, and as their suspicions are confirmed, they seem to have a happy little hive song going. Well, maybe… Lily listens for a moment, trying to catch the repetitive tune. It takes her a round or two, making a couple of mistakes before she picks it up and gestures for Rexanna to follow her lead. Maybe if they can match the tune, the bees won’t find consider them a threat? Then she inches towards the swarm, doing her best to ignore the fear of being stung. Eh. Fear might be an exaggeration. She just doesn’t want to feel the pain. Or kill a bee! merry of soul, she sailed on a day over the sea to Skye

AMALIA Slowly the loaves begin to tak shape, each one decorated by a separate sigil, an emblem of their maker. She wonders at Kiada's bird, is unsurprised by Deimos' snowflake. For her own remaining loaves Amalia makes distinct decorations, practicing the ones she will soon have to mass produce. A flower joins the collection, for Frey; a star, for Safrin; and a candle for Ludo. They are delightfully childish in their mischief, and Amalia cannot help the upturned grin as Deimos and Kiada plot. Sure, the bakery will be a mess later, but for now it is alive, and the beauty of that pays ten times over the cost of cleaning up some flour. Speaking of which... Amalia cannot help the riotus laugh which peals from her lips at Deimos and Kiada's onslaught of poor Jigano, their coordination doing much to usurp him from his position of cleanest. Cackling, Amalia arches a brow at the Loreseeker whose arms and clothes are now as white as his hair. "If you children are done." Amalia's drawl shakes with hidden mirth, a laughable attempt at imperious superiority easily belied by the grin still on her lips. There is no real anger or rebuke in her voice merely merriment and delight. "The last step is baking, which I'll take care of. Meanwhile, you lot- clean up this mess!" Deimos Kiada Jigano Baking team: clean up the shop while Amalia bakes the bread! Loaves will take about 15 minutes to cook. Flour fight winner will be rolled next round, get your last attacks in! Currently DEIMOS is cleanest I tend to avoid getting emotional I'm not shutting you out It's just the way I'm born But I see myself next to you until we're old

Amalia's rebuke was met with an expression of positively angelic innocence from the bard - only somewhat ruined by the dusting of white that blended in with his hair and overtunic, and stood in stark contrast against his skin. "Yes," he murmured, a paragon of perfect behavior. "Kiada and Deimos did rather make a mess, didn't they?" Though the sly wink he tilted at Amalia a moment later hinted at the mischief behind his performer's mask.

His grin escaped as he turned away from their hostess, and he eyed Kiada and Deimos to try and measure how much flour was on each of them. The big man had, in spite of his size that should have made him an easy target, somehow coming out the cleanest of the three...

Which meant Amalia would be giving him a prize at this rate. And wasn't that an interesting proposition?

His grin widened as he made his way to a broom in the corner of the shop and began to industriously sweep up the flour that had fallen on the floor. He 'accidentally' swept a cloud of it towards Kiada in his enthusiasm, tipping her an apology that was perhaps just a tad bit insincere. "Excuse me, miss, you're in the way there," he practically purred. "Doughn't you have something you could be doing to clean up? I would loave a little help with this!"

D e i m o s

Send a heartbeat to the void that cries through you
Relive the pictures that have come to pass

He’d missed a lot of things on his purposeful, detached march to purgatory, but camaraderie was high on the list. The beast once had his legions by his side, warriors drawn together in mirth, in violence, in the uproar and unholy aches of vehemence and vigilance, before the end, before the ashes, before the rubble. Kiada was a firm reminder of the fire bestowed in the world, of support and teamwork, and he laughed as she applied to her request, as he winked, subtle, in her direction, as he remembered days of glory with rapiers and wit. The Reaper even chuckled at the horrendous puns Jigano uttered, shying away from the wilder bouts of flour flying through the air. It wasn’t the same, not a battleground, not a dais of war, but it was in all those other regards. The playful assaults, the mischievous scorn of children (and if that is what they’ve truly embodied, he really didn’t care; a devil’s glee was par for the juvenile course), did naught to dissuade his nefarious amusement. Within the heart of it, he was content and satisfied, accepted and tolerated, come to life instead of receding back into the glacial, frigid lines his void, his brushstrokes, always seemed to savor. He didn’t argue at Jigano’s hushed murmurs, though an eyeroll was evident, broken through the enamored facets and impish regard. His attention was spent on finalizing his dough, ensuring the lines on the snowflake were perfected, arranged in meticulous, scrupulous detail, the aurora temptations a bestial roar in the back of his mind. His eyes, however, took in the rest of the scene, the promise of cleaning up their follies and mess. He, currently, appeared to be the cleanest – how this had occurred was beyond him; but the notion of success, the briefest, gleaming chance of him triumphing, flickered into his sights. Should he play it safe? Should he escalate, ensure he was victorious? Jigano went for Kiada, and it was Deimos’ chance to slip under the radar. Ever a calculating individual, he took the opportunity to linger in the shadows, take what he’d already snagged and snared; grabbing hold of his dough and presenting it towards Amalia and the oven (the rich scent of mixed spices tempting him further), a delighted smirk still embedded in his lips. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. With Jigano taking the broom, he turned towards the amount of flour they’d left along the counters. It wasn’t right, and it wouldn’t be fair, to allow it all to remain from their antics and entertainment. Though the amusement had been well worth it, there would always be something else to take into consideration; he might’ve leapt too far. If Amalia had snarled and snipped at them, there would be more regrets curling into his chest; for now, he took the punishment as a necessity. The warrior ducked below the counter again, grabbing hold of a nearby cloth and dipping it into the bucket they’d already used, wetting it down to make it easier to hold the flour. Then he came back up, lowering the dampened material and maneuvering it across the surface, intending to leave it as pristine as when they’d entered, no sign of their antics left behind (just the memories of it). For now we stand alone, the world is lost and blown And we are flesh and blood disintegrate with no more to hate

Phoebe also had no idea what a chorus bee was. But she knew what a normal bee was and she would rather not have any part of that. Bees were important. They made honey and helped plants grow. But the little jerks could sting something fierce and she just didn't want to risk it. Besides, two people were enough to handle the bees right? Rexanna and Lily were tough and smart. So she made her way around to handle gathering the flowers. Phoebe looked at them in surprise. Why were some of them so big? She knew a thing or two about plants for her various remedies but she had never seen flowers of these varieties grow so large! She saw a few pretty normal ones and gently picked those first. But there was one very pretty oversized one...so feeling a bit unsure she made to pick it. Phoebe shine like gold, buzz like a bee, oh you make me smile