[this is it! the day that all of the children (and Styx, honestly) have been waiting for! he's been going nonstop in the week preceding the festivities, helping both with the rehearsals as well as set construction - at least as far as carrying and hoisting was concerned. honestly it feels as though he's the only who's going to be up onstage now, even though he'll only be down in the music pit with the other performers. it's a pleasantly familiar set of jitters hopping about in his stomach, and he welcomes them with open arms.
although he's down in the pit for the entirety of the play, any member of the audience would still have an easy time picking Styx out during the show; his head peeks out past the pit by quite a few inches, and the starry cloak he'd picked up during the celebration shimmers and flutters with every decisive crash of his drums. he's putting far too much effort into a children's play than is necessary by far, but is that such a bad thing? everyone deserves to feel like their efforts are valued.
when the show is over he's up and moving almost instantly, probably terrifying some of the attendees by hauling his massive self out of the pit rather than taking the stairs in order to descend upon the little actors with a proud cry.]
Guys, that was killer! You did so good!
[he's scooping up several of the young performers in short order, their costume and his cloak flapping about and probably smacking anyone too close as he spins them around cheerfully. thankfully he notices before the clothing can completely wrap around the other person and both literally and figuratively strangle them with his joy. stepping back slightly and allowing the little scamps in his arms to scramble back to the floor, he beams cheerfully.]
Hey, what'd you think of the play? They really nailed it out there, yeah?
two;
[Styx hasn't really lost anyone in his life, not really. his mother had passed when he was just barely out of the realm of toddlerhood, leaving him with so few memories of her that he could no longer recall her face...and that was it. friends had come and gone, but no deaths or traumatic partings. just the ebb and flow of life.
still, he's attracted to the wreath-making by the delicate blooms and distinctive color of the flowers. although the big guy half-heartedly tries to protest that he's too clumsy to fashion such a beautiful object himself, the natives will hear no such thing; after a little bit of kind instruction he's all set up, creating what is actually a pretty nice wreath for all of the clumsiness that big fingers bring with them.
the scent is supposed to recall lost companions, and with no one 'lost' to him Styx really isn't expecting much when he takes a deep breath of that heady aroma upon completion...big mistake. he experiences quite a few things (and maybe you do too, if you're near enough) - the view of an audience from onstage and the backs of two other men playing their hearts out, the smell of tea brewing while a Turkish drama plays in the other room, a motherly caress and soft lullaby, among others - and without realizing it brings tears to his eyes.
it wasn't so much a person that had been lost, he realizes, but a home.
trying to scoot backwards in his chair and hide his crying while it was still in the early stages, Styx's gigantic knee slams into the table and ends up knocking a decent portion of its contents to the ground, including (surely) some of the things other people nearby were working on. ah, shit.]
Sorry, didn't mean to - was just, um...
[he's trying to duck now and pick everything up, but in the process has banged into the table again thanks to his tear-blurred eyes. this is just a mess.]
wildcard;
[come at me!! Styx is going to be involved in both the fighting and cleanup of Morgana's invasion, so feel free to write anything you like involving either if that's your fancy. ovo if you'd like me to write you a custom starter or want to do something else, feel free to hit me up via PM or at phantomblood. I'm super down!]
Styx | Witch | ota
[this is it! the day that all of the children (and Styx, honestly) have been waiting for! he's been going nonstop in the week preceding the festivities, helping both with the rehearsals as well as set construction - at least as far as carrying and hoisting was concerned. honestly it feels as though he's the only who's going to be up onstage now, even though he'll only be down in the music pit with the other performers. it's a pleasantly familiar set of jitters hopping about in his stomach, and he welcomes them with open arms.
although he's down in the pit for the entirety of the play, any member of the audience would still have an easy time picking Styx out during the show; his head peeks out past the pit by quite a few inches, and the starry cloak he'd picked up during the celebration shimmers and flutters with every decisive crash of his drums. he's putting far too much effort into a children's play than is necessary by far, but is that such a bad thing? everyone deserves to feel like their efforts are valued.
when the show is over he's up and moving almost instantly, probably terrifying some of the attendees by hauling his massive self out of the pit rather than taking the stairs in order to descend upon the little actors with a proud cry.]
Guys, that was killer! You did so good!
[he's scooping up several of the young performers in short order, their costume and his cloak flapping about and probably smacking anyone too close as he spins them around cheerfully. thankfully he notices before the clothing can completely wrap around the other person and both literally and figuratively strangle them with his joy. stepping back slightly and allowing the little scamps in his arms to scramble back to the floor, he beams cheerfully.]
Hey, what'd you think of the play? They really nailed it out there, yeah?
two;
[Styx hasn't really lost anyone in his life, not really. his mother had passed when he was just barely out of the realm of toddlerhood, leaving him with so few memories of her that he could no longer recall her face...and that was it. friends had come and gone, but no deaths or traumatic partings. just the ebb and flow of life.
still, he's attracted to the wreath-making by the delicate blooms and distinctive color of the flowers. although the big guy half-heartedly tries to protest that he's too clumsy to fashion such a beautiful object himself, the natives will hear no such thing; after a little bit of kind instruction he's all set up, creating what is actually a pretty nice wreath for all of the clumsiness that big fingers bring with them.
the scent is supposed to recall lost companions, and with no one 'lost' to him Styx really isn't expecting much when he takes a deep breath of that heady aroma upon completion...big mistake. he experiences quite a few things (and maybe you do too, if you're near enough) - the view of an audience from onstage and the backs of two other men playing their hearts out, the smell of tea brewing while a Turkish drama plays in the other room, a motherly caress and soft lullaby, among others - and without realizing it brings tears to his eyes.
it wasn't so much a person that had been lost, he realizes, but a home.
trying to scoot backwards in his chair and hide his crying while it was still in the early stages, Styx's gigantic knee slams into the table and ends up knocking a decent portion of its contents to the ground, including (surely) some of the things other people nearby were working on. ah, shit.]
Sorry, didn't mean to - was just, um...
[he's trying to duck now and pick everything up, but in the process has banged into the table again thanks to his tear-blurred eyes. this is just a mess.]
wildcard;
[come at me!! Styx is going to be involved in both the fighting and cleanup of Morgana's invasion, so feel free to write anything you like involving either if that's your fancy. ovo if you'd like me to write you a custom starter or want to do something else, feel free to hit me up via PM or at