Event Log: September, The Price of Revolution p1

[faileas]

Event Log: September, The Price of Revolution Part 1

I. The Freedom Festivities Behind the fortress-like walls of Dorchacht, what was once a gloomy, imposing city is lit up for the festivities to come. Septeril brings with it many mixed emotions for the citizens of what used to be called The Black City, though the overwhelming atmosphere is positive - this is a celebration of freedom hard-earned and prosperity hard-fought-for. The triple stars of the Resistance, now the current reigning party, feature heavily in decorations and in clothing: in pins, on hats, golden stars enchanted into fabric to dance merrily across skirts and cloaks. Stars light up the streets in decorative strings hung from lamppost to lamppost, flickering gently over the cobblestones. Mirrors, as well, feature into the decor, tiny round ones hung in multitudes from awnings and in windows like ornaments, catching the light and playing it across the otherwise-utilitarian architecture, lending it a sort of understated beauty. Much of Dorchacht has been rebuilt and repurposed by necessity since the uprising last year, and many new small businesses and restaurants are being featured at the festival - their goods or their foods on display in markets of street-side stalls or on the feast tables. Local handmade wares and crafts are out for sale for modest prices, and every sale helps out both the small business, many of which are started by former slaves, and helps the local economy, which is better these days but still recovering. The festivities go for six days, almost a full week, with feasting and bonfires every evening, and tours and tales of the city by day, as they display the changes for the better they have all made. And then, on the final evening, all are invited to watch a grand fireworks show that will be put on in the skies over Dorchacht, presided over by the Circle of Three themselves. Mirrorbound are welcomed warmly, whether they were present last year or not, and treated much like family - get ready to be pulled into activities and plied with food left and right. a. Join the Fun The children of Dorchacht are out by the dozens during the festivities, excited by all the freely-offered, special sweet treats and the magical sparklers and poppers being handed out by the fistful. The poppers explode when thrown to the ground in bursts of bright colors, completely harmless, and the sparklers are enchanted not to burn little (or big) hands if mishandled. Mirrorbound passing through may find themselves roped into elaborate pretend games of revolution by eager faces: the children name themselves either Resistance members or Mirrorbound, and 'do battle' with their magic fireworks against scarecrow-like constructions cloaked in dark bed sheets as 'the bad guys'. Depending on one's perspective, it may seem dark, but this is what these children have known very recently in their lives, and their caretakers or parents (there are more of the former than the latter, especially for the young Monsters) let them play as they will. If asked, they'll just explain that some of those kids even remember the fighting when it happened; this is just another way that they try to understand how the city has changed. More organized, family-friendly reenactment performances are also common, with several of the orphanage groups putting on small plays about the uprising, or moral plays about kindness and togetherness between Witches and Monsters. This includes a prominent set of performances by the Mirrored Hearts Home for Children - maybe you're helping out with their sets or costumes, or maybe you assisted with their scripts and songs. Those Mirrorbound volunteers will want to see the kids do well, right? They'll be heartbroken if you don't show. Of course, kids aren't the only ones doing reenactments. The newly formed Dorchacht Historical Society, dedicated to protecting Dorchacht's history going forward, puts on several - and may drag in passers-by to play different roles! Only the luckiest are begged to play the role of The Dragon, who valiantly rose up against their cruel former master, Morgana, and helped lead Dorchacht to where they are today. b. Forget-Me-Not While the overall air is celebratory, among the adults who are old enough to understand just what was lost as well as gained, there is an undercurrent of sombre remembrance. Many visit the burned-out Old Coven, left as damaged as it was when the fighting ceased, as a monument to how freedom fighters suffered and fought. Plaques dot the grounds and buildings there seemingly at random, until you realize that each metal plate bearing names is laid where someone died. To decorate these plaques, and homes and businesses as well, there are tables set up in the yard of the New Coven, heavy with a rainbow of small magical flowers called Forget-Me-Nots, and the supplies to make remembrance wreaths. In this new tradition, the flowers are chosen with a dead, missing, or simply absent loved one in mind, and woven together with glass beads, small wooden charms, and a spell written on a slip of paper. The enchanted fragrance of the Forget-Me-Nots allows whoever smells them to witness short, happy memories of the person the wreath was made for - whether they knew that person or not. The memories come from the wreath-maker, and are only short flashes (less than a minute long) or mere impressions, but all are pleasant or warming. With the spell woven in, they'll last for an entire year without wilting or losing their effects, a souvenir from the festival to take home. Mirrorbound are encouraged to join in, and make wreaths of their own, whether or not they lost someone in Dorchacht's uprising. It can be for someone who has disappeared from Geardagas, someone who died long ago, someone living they miss from home, anyone who is not currently with them.

II. The Uninvited Guests On the 25th, the final day of the celebrations, the partying lasts all day. Food and drink are abundant on every corner, upbeat music is played by street performers and over the radios that can be found in nearly every household and shop, and the bonfires have been enchanted to let the flames take fanciful shapes. Drinking games and dancing, storytelling and general partying all last clear into the evening, but once dusk falls, everyone gathers in the center square of the city for the fireworks show. The Three are there - the Witches Bryn and Hilda, and the Monster known as The Dragon, Starlight, or formerly Fafnir - with Nessie and Mhairi as guests of honor, and Hilda is the one to set off the first enchanted fireworks, after a brief speech thanking everyone for coming out to celebrate a year of freedom and independence with them. It's with bursts of colorful light in the night sky behind her that she seems to appear from nowhere: tall, dark and imposing, a sharp-eyed Witch that exudes power. Morgana Drummond is not alone, either, flanked by a dozen rough-worn Witches and a host of others. The chaos that ensues is immediate and violent. "All of this for me?" Drummond sneers. Attacks bounce off her, no matter how powerful - even Nessie's considerable spells. Witches will be able to sense the strong barrier spell close-fit around her body, and the others around her will not let Monsters get close. It's The Dragon who speaks, voice rough from disuse but loud enough: "How dare you return here-" "I built this city in all the ways that matter. I was never going to let you have it. You burned away my Dorchacht, so now I will make sure there is nothing left of yours but ashes." a. To Sleep, Perchance Unreachable, Morgana Drummond's form limns in a sickly violet light, the circle of a spell forming beneath her feet, steadily growing as her power gathers. So much magic gathered in one spot is bound to be felt by all the Mirrorbound, Witch and Monster alike, oppressive in nature as if it could steal the breath from your lungs. Perhaps it truly was a fluke that she was driven from Dorchacht, a happy accident caused by a timely distraction. The spell circle spreads, glowing, until it envelops the entire city, and it pulses once, blinding, before it sears itself across Dorchacht's streets and buildings in burnt lines and symbols. The fireworks continue to pop and burst overhead, casting shadows that seem suddenly sinister. Nothing happens for just a moment - and then all the people of Dorchacht collapse in waves. Next to a stunned Nessie and furious Mhairi, Bryn, Hilda, and the Dragon fall into a heap as well, the final three bodies to hit the ground. Mirrorbound and citizens of Aefenglom do not fall prey to the sleeping spell despite being in its area of effect. It happens in the span of just a few minutes, and then Morgana is gone in the blink of an eye, leaving her people to sow terror on the sleeping city. b. Battle on the Streets While she brought with her only a dozen Witches from her former Coven, she's collected a force in the Wilde. Blank-eyed rogue necromancers, mind controlled the way the Monsters of Dorchacht used to be, storm the streets controlling in turn their dead Monsters and creatures. A few even have with them dead Nuckelavee, which will require multiple fighters to take out. Wilders from Dorchacht gone missing on expeditions in the last year bear the signs of mind control as well - the ones who aren't dead, shambling around the necromancers. Maybe you recognize them, maybe you don't. Maybe you can help them, or maybe you can't. The mind control enchantments can be dispelled with a lot of effort or with the specific spells used often by the Resistance a while ago, for those who still remember it. In the slums of Dorchacht, the people who were convinced of Morgana's return, those who want to return to the days of slavery and terror, break free from the now-sleeping guards and failing wards that kept them contained and join the fighting, manic in their glee. The spell that put the rest of Dorchacht to sleep seems to slip right off them, perhaps sensing their loyalty to terrible causes. It is chaos, as the insurgents set fires and attack at will with magic, claws, weapons, anything they have. Mirrorbound will soon realize that they and the visitors from Aefenglom are not the only targets. The sleeping people of Dorchacht are ripe for the killing, unable to react or defend themselves. The fighting will continue into the night until the invaders are all dead or captured.

III. The Aftermath When the fighting ends, the work begins. An entire city deep in the throes of an enchanted sleep is a worst-case scenario that none of them could have predicted, even those who had a hunch Morgana didn't die out in the unexplored Wilde. Miss Nessie and Mhairi will remain on the scene helping to direct the aid efforts in the aftermath of the battle. Fires must be put out, corpses must be rounded up to be buried or burned, captured attackers must be secured and questioned, sleeping citizens must be whisked from the streets to safety and shelter, and buildings ensured to be safe in the meantime. Aefenglom's Coven are called in to assist, anyone who is available, and Mirrorbound help is more than welcomed. They will need everyone they can get to make sure not all is lost in this tragic attack. Nessie herself will ensure the Three are taken to safety in Aefenglom until the people of Dorchacht can be woken. Action needs to be taken quickly. Morgana needs to be found as soon as possible, and capable hands will be needed to search the Wilde far outside Dorchacht, the most likely place for her to go. More urgently, however, are the sleeping citizens. Nessie announces late the next evening, the normally-bubbly woman gone solemn and serious: "I believe I've found a counter-ritual for the spell that nasty woman used, I have. I will need your help, though, Mirrorbound. Volunteers only, of course, of course, as it's likely to be quite dangerous, though the Dreamers and I will take every precaution we can. Discuss among yourselves, decide if you're willing. Those who are, meet at the Coven at midnight on the 27th. It's not right to just leave them all like that, not right at all..."

Welcome to September's event log, Part 1 of The Price of Revolution! This event will continue in the TDM posted on the 21st, with a foray into purposeful dreamwalking. It will be a hybrid test drive and event that current characters will be allowed to top level on as well. Quests into the Wilde to search for Morgana will currently bear no fruit beyond small clues, but Part 2 in early October will deal with her whereabouts and her final fate. As always, direct your questions about the event HERE! And finally, for those who are wondering what's up with Dorchacht, we have a Setting update for you.

Comments

[tothemetal]

[he hears the thinness in Karin's voice, as sincere as her gratitude, and it's what prompts him to tilt his head so that it gently rests atop hers for a few moments. if all this hurt had been falling on them from above, he'd be able to catch it all with his face from this position...ah, but that's a stupid thought.]

Everything's tough for me to do, so it's ok! Just means I've got a lot've experience. 's worth it if it helped though, so I don't mind.

[if anything he'd be proud to have struggled through those difficult memories if they had helped ease his friend's burden even in the tiniest way. lifting was really the only thing he was good at, so - why couldn't that apply to emotions as well? even if he had to place them back down sometimes, surely that momentary lightening must cast some useful relief.

he chuckles, the soft sound rumbling against each other from their shared connection, before lifting his head back up to its original position. Styx isn't entitled to the woman's tears, nor does he expect to be; while he makes no attempt to prompt her to let go and cry a little here and now, he can't help but hope (strange as it feels) that she might do so for a moment or two whenever she returned home today. Karin had been so kind about his own weeping...she deserves to have that same opportunity to release.]

Um, know it's a lot easier to say you gotta do something like that than...you know, doing it. So don't feel bad if the only person you can tell at first is, I dunno, your mirror or something, ok? Still counts as honest.

[a moment or two of comforting silences passes before another thought occurs to Styx, which he belatedly appends with an apologetic expression.]

Your mirror at home, I mean. Not, uh, you know - not the big one we all fell through when we first got here.

[that just seemed like too long of a trip even for something as important as acknowledging one's feelings...although maybe it might be worth it if that was the only place you could be honest? he's unsure.]

[sonnestark]

[Here she had intended on supporting him, on being the one to make him feel better when he clearly needed someone to lean on for a little while, and yet the situation has reversed without her meaning for it to do so. For the relatively short time they've known one another, Styx has shown himself to be thoughtful and kind, to put others before himself time and time again, and a small part of her worries that he might do that at his own expense— but in this moment, she feels comforted, safe, and incredibly grateful to be able to call him a friend.

Even as she leans against him and he rests his head atop her own, she reaches for his hand and takes it between both of hers, giving it a squeeze that's equal parts reassurance and gratitude.]

I follow. There are plenty of mirrors at home to practice with. I hope you'll take your own advice, too?

[Though she admits he may not need it as much as she did, at least not in the same way.]

I don't know if you struggle with being honest about feelings the way I do, but if you ever do need to talk about something, I want you to feel like you can. Even if it's hard. You can trust me. And— maybe while I'm practicing being honest in the mirror, you can try complimenting yourself. Just here and there.

[He's so hard on himself, and he doesn't deserve that.]

[tothemetal]

[oh...the desire to support Karin has completely arrested both the drummer's thoughts and feeling up until now, allowing him to act without the usual hesitation that being so forward would bring. but when his friend takes his hand like that, something about the gesture - he's suddenly very keenly aware that she's a girl and that she is very very close right now in every way possible.

his posture doesn't shift at all (he doesn't even tense up, sweet thing) but there is absolutely a crimson blush spreading across his face like wildfire now. shit...but he still squeezes the bottom hand holding his in return, as gently as ever. he just hopes she doesn't really look up right now.]

'Course I trust you. We're friends.

[and friends could rely on one another, tell each other anything. that's something he knows deep in his heart with unshakeable certainty, despite having only cultivate a small handful of friends for himself in recent years.]

But, um...you think that's something I gotta work on? Telling myself nice things, I mean.

[he trusts her, and he absolutely trusts her opinion, but at the same time it's a bit of a daunting thing to contemplate. it was easier to talk kindly about his drumming, but that would only take him so far...he'd run out of compliments in a month. while she hadn't phrased it that way, he can't help but think - would Karin stop telling herself the truth if he stopped that? it's not something he wants, not in a million years.]

[sonnestark]

I do.

[Fortunately for him, she doesn't look up as she answers, though a smile tugs at one corner of her mouth, and her hold on his hand remains firm.]

Or at least being kinder to yourself. Sometimes I think you don't even notice it— the things you say about yourself, or how you sell yourself short. You're a pretty exceptional person, but you don't seem to see that.

[Most people seem to have trouble seeing their own good points, but it honestly breaks her heart a little more every time he mentions how stupid he is, or how he ruins things.]

[tothemetal]

[that is a very big mercy, because being called exceptional has his face burning bright again just as he'd thought the shyness was dying this. it feels - it is - different from their connected hands, however.

stop with the act. you're just another punk. those were the words that the judge had handed down to him when his sentence had been passed, all that time ago. the way that woman had looked at him, like he was filth on the bottom of her shoe, had cut through even the tearful panic which had taken hold of him at the time. there was nothing special about him, the entire world seemed to have said. he was one more thug from a bad neighborhood...and not even one that the other miscreants wanted, at that.

how can Karin look at him and think there was anything of particular note here? it wasn't like she was his auntie, who would have loved him no matter what...but she sounded so sure of it, Styx was unable to doubt her even in his own mind. oh, but that meant - god. he can't keep himself from releasing a long, shuddering breath and dropping his face back into the top of her hair. just for a moment. just until this wave of emotion passed.]

Nobody really, um. [oh, he's talking into her hair. she wouldn't be able to hear him like this, would she? he swallows thickly and raises his head a bit before trying again.] It's usually the opposite, that people are telling me. No matter what I do...'s always the same.

[the drummer doesn't really think this is something anyone cares about, but they'd just gotten through talking about trust and honesty. whether it hurt or not, he's determined not to be a hypocrite on this matter for Karin's sake. even if it feels shameful to admit to this.]

[sonnestark]

[She almost asks if she'd done something wrong, said the wrong thing, but fights the urge to second-guess herself. She'd meant what she said, and there was no taking it back— instead, she lets him take the moment he needs to get through whatever emotion it is that holds him hostage for those few moments.]

You shouldn't listen to them.

[She doesn't know what they could have said to make him feel otherwise, other than echoes of what he so clearly believes about himself, but she shakes her head once he's lifted his chin from it, as if dismissing all those people she's never met out of turn.]

You're kind, and thoughtful. You know how to listen to people, and how to make them feel better about themselves. Those are gifts— rare ones. So whatever other people have said to you... you shouldn't listen. They can't see what's really important.

[tothemetal]

They're not - um, they weren't - stupid or nothing, though. Teachers, 'nd older folks...real people, you know? Real nice, too.

[he stumbles over his words even more than usual, overwhelmed by the onslaught of unexpected kindness. the compliments are all things that Styx tries to be, fights his hardest to give to everyone he meets despite his flaws, but even more than success he simply can't understand how they could be rare. all the people he's known in his life, in this world and the last...they've all been so kind. how could such sentiments be uncommon when he truly believed any of them would give just as much of themselves to another without question?

(to others, anyway. not to him, who didn't deserve such regard.)]

I know I fuck up a lot, with lots of different stuff, so 'm probably thinking about myself wrong too.

[he laughs at his own words, gentle and a little helpless.]

I just don't wanna - well, it's important to you now too, right? Since we're friends. So if I gotta fix some stuff, 'm kinda scared...if I fuck it up this time it'll hurt you.

[sonnestark]

They may not have been stupid, but they can still be wrong.

[She has to wonder, how could anyone meet him and not see what she saw? He's been nothing but compassionate from day one, since the afternoon where they ran into one another in that empty house in the Haven and decided to put up a memorial for its former inhabitants. Then, when she'd been bedridden for all those days, even when she was unconscious, he had stopped by time and time again to check in on her, to make sure that she had everything she needed, even though it wasn't his responsibility to.

She lets out a soft 'hmph' before she shifts again to turn and face him, looking up and reaching to take his face between both of her hands to hold his attention. There's a light press of talons against his cheeks where her nails used to be, her transformation slowly but steadily edging towards completion as the weeks pass.]

Don't worry about that. You can't— mess it up by being yourself. It is important to me, but that shouldn't be why you do it. You spend so much time caring about other people, you deserve to care about yourself, too. I can speak from experience on this one.

[She gives him a knowing smile, shaking her head slightly.]

So don't be scared. As long as you're true to yourself, you won't be letting me down, okay?

[tothemetal]

[the same compassion which had endeared him so strongly to Karin had been the cause of his downfall at home - or rather, the curse which had marked him unable to thrive from the very start. it was a softness which had no use in the neighborhood he'd been born into, crippled by poverty and his own academic idiocy. even those teachers with kind hearts, sincerely trying their best - there had simply never been enough time for someone who seemed to struggle at every turn. with so much chaos in every class, it was no wonder - no one's fault - that patience had eventually transformed into annoyance.

he understood that. he was big, and scary, and the way that he hovered and fidgeted on the edge of things often made him seem suspicious. it was no surprise that people saw him the way they did.

what does surprise him is his friend taking his face in her hands, a gesture that not even the girls he'd been briefly involved with in times long past had seen fit to do. her touch is cool despite the emotions that have burned high in both their breasts, thanks to those selfsame talons applying such a strangely comforting pressure now. he's too caught off guard to even remember to blush, simply staring down at her with wide eyes.

thankfully, having his brain wiped clean of all thought means that Karin's words pierce it straight to the core.]

It's...real hard, isn't it?

[looking after yourself the way you do others. giving kindness to the one person who always seemed to deserve it the least.

his smile is minuscule compared to his usual grins, but somehow all the more meaningful for it. reaching up to gently rest his massive hands over his friend's, he continues to speak again with the ponderous tone that always comes from tackling something he feels too serious for his capabilities.]

But, um! I'll try. I promise. I know it's about both of us doing stuff for ourselves, but...we still got each other, you know? For hanging onto when we hit the bumpy bits.

[sonnestark]

It is hard.

[She nods without hesitation, because there's no denying that— it's something she still struggles with most days, something that she's still fighting to keep in mind right now, but it's worth the effort. She hopes that eventually, he'll feel the same.

Her smile hitches a bit wider as her hold relaxes, and she lets her hands fall away from his face and into her lap, glad her snap-decision had the desired results.]

But you're right. We'll help one another as best we can. If you ever have trouble remembering your good points, you can just ask me— and if I forget to let myself actually admit that sometimes things aren't okay, you have every right to scold me.

[tothemetal]

[he runs his hand through his hair after Karin pulls back, obscuring his face before things settle as he belatedly remembers to flush pink over being held so softly by a girl. it's a good thing that they were already friends...he thinks he'd have cartwheeled right off the bench by now otherwise.]

'm not gonna be mean if you make a mistake, that's not cool. [nobody was perfect all the time. that shouldn't merit criticism.] But, uh, if you end up doing it a lot then I might -

[still riding high on the poignant moment they've just shared, Styx's hesitation over physical contact has failed to return as of this moment. it allows him to lean over now, playfully looming, and give her hair and feathers alike a healthy ruffle.]

[sonnestark]

[She ducks her head as he tousles her hair, laughing openly— and as it hits air, she feels just a bit more of the sadness and anxiety she'd been feeling before now lift away from her. It was possible they would return later on, but for now, there is a reprieve.]

It would only have to be a friendly scolding, but I think this will work just as well.

[And is less likely to disagree with his gentle nature, she thinks. She reaches up to grab the hand he'd ruffled her hair with, giving it another squeeze.]

I feel better. Do you?

[tothemetal]

[excuse you, what's worse than having these big heavy hands muss your hair in every possible direction? nothing! Styx is laughing right alongside his friend, though, feeling all the lighter for the way both their voices twine wonderfully in that happiness.]

...yeah, I do.

[better enough to squeeze Karin's hand in return, holding on even as he continues to speak.]

'm actually glad I made that wreath now, too.

[sonnestark]

[She does look sufficiently mussed after his efforts, but she doesn't seem to mind it in the least, her smile having spread into something much closer to a grin in the wake of it all.]

I'm glad, too, even if things didn't work out the way we thought they would.

[Coming to this workshop had put them both in the right place at the right time. She'd been there to help him through the shock of experiencing those memories, and she'd had the opportunity to talk a bit about things she hadn't even considered letting herself air aloud. It had been beneficial for the both of them— but it was more than just that.]

You're a very good friend to have, Styx. Anyone else who can call you that is very lucky.

[tothemetal]

[it was better than what he'd expected to receive here, he thinks. way, way better. Styx has been able to accept that people here consider him a true friend, but there had still been that lingering phantom of doubt - when would that stop? how long until their patience ran out and what few positive qualities he had no longer outweighed the mountain of flaws he seemed to be made of? it was the desire to be connected and the simultaneous fear that the chain would snap, gnawing away at his heart constantly.

but he understood a bit better now, he thought. the drummer was hardly a scholar, but he could be there for those he cherished, a pillar to lean on. he could listen, file away every word with all the room in that empty head of his...and with those memories, he could do little things to help his friends lift themselves up just a bit more day by day. it was truly a wonderful thing to contemplate.]

Only 'cause all my friends are real killer.

[he'd do absolutely anything in the world for any of them - hell, he'd do anything in every world for them all. everything Styx had, he'd give it over without a second thought.]

Think I'm the lucky one, really...always feel real good when I'm with any of you guys. Like, um, like a real person.

[sonnestark]

You are a real person, you know.

[There's a teasing lilt to her voice as she nudges him with her elbow, a playful bump to keep the mood light even as she gently chides him.]

But I think I know what you mean. I went so long in life without having many people I could call friends, until the last couple of years— and then I had to leave them, too. The people I've befriended here... I feel like I can really rely on them, and I want them to feel like they can depend on me, too. And I feel— safe?

[Especially in the present company, if she's being honest. There's something about Styx's presence that's especially comforting.]

[tothemetal]

[is he, though? sometimes Styx wonders...less now, since finding his place in the band, but the thought still occasionally crosses his mind. how could someone like him be real?]

That's 'cause you are.

[maybe he was so comforting because he said that sort of thing with such genuine certainty. there was a hell of a lot going on out in Aefenglom and the rest of the continent, but he flatly refused to let it effect the way that his friends (and even himself) lived their lives. there were too many good things here...too many things to celebrate, that fear would only dishonor. if he had to stand in the way of any danger to keep that safe, he gladly would. no one ever had to ask.]

No matter what happens, we're gonna keep each other safe. Don't need, um, that divination stuff they teach or nothing to know that. 's what good friends do.

[sonnestark]

[She nods in agreement, settling back against the bench with her hands in her lap, seemingly content with that answer. It was all the explanation that was necessary, really.]

Right. That's what good friends do. It took me awhile to learn that, but I don't intend to forget it.

[It's too important a lesson.]

And helping one another is how we're all going to get through all of this, right?

[tothemetal]

[it's maybe the most important lesson you could learn, Styx thinks. he still isn't sure that he's completely come to understand it, not with the way he still happily allows other people to use him, but...it's a very long way he's come from the time he'd spent in juvie.]

Yeah! Like we're all climbing a ledge and giving each other boosts along the way. Can't get to the top alone, you know?

[who'd want to, anyway? it'd be so lonely by yourself, looking down at everyone struggling below you. he thinks it'd make him cry.]

[sonnestark]

Mmhmm— can't make it to the top alone.

[And it would be awfully lonely even if you could. There would be nobody to share it with.

She reaches out to take hold of his wrist, inclining her head away from the tented wreath area— there's a good amount of distance between them and it now, but the low roar of chatter from the crowd within is still clearly audible.]

Want to get out of here for awhile? I hear there's warm cider by the bonfires.

[tothemetal]

...yeah, for sure. Heard it's kinda spicy!

[his favorite, truth be told.

Styx takes a moment to make sure that his friend is ready to go before standing up, using their tethered connection to gently pull her upright alongside him. he definitely feels better now - better than even before he'd made that wreath, honestly - but he still can't help thinking...

well, Karin won't be mad if this isn't something she'd like. it's a chance worth taking so, for once, he does so before his mind can think the initiative straight out of him. twisting his hand around, he very carefully slots their fingers together and gives them a squeeze. a firmer connection, a reminder of their promise to support one another through the strife of this world...just until they got that cider, at least.]

We hang around long enough maybe we'll see the fireworks, too.

[sonnestark]

[She feels a sudden rush of heat come into her cheeks once more, and she's glad that they're stepping away from the nearby lamppost just enough that her hair should camoflauge it well in the evening light. There's only a moment's hesitation before she gives his hand a squeeze in turn, and she allows herself to sidle perhaps a half a step closer as they prepare to head out.

Despite the fact that they had been seated comfortably and quite close for several minutes beforehand, and she'd been the one to grab his hand in the first place, there's something about this that's different— the realization that nobody has ever reached out and taken her hand like this before. She's not shy about physical contact, but she's used to being the one to offer it, as reassurance or comfort. This is entirely new— holding hands with Yuri during that soul ritual had not been the same thing, plus he hadn't even been able to look at her during it.]

I'd like that. I can't remember the last time I actually sat and watched fireworks— you don't have anywhere else you need to be?

[Seeing as this wasn't planned, it only seems polite to check.]

[tothemetal]

[for as much (too much) thought that Styx gives any type of contact he bestows upon anyone, as soon as the action's taken most of his awareness seems to leak straight out the back of his head. he's holding Karin's hand and she doesn't seem to be bothered by it, so there's really nothing more to think about. his friend's embarrassment is completely missed, a small mercy on Karin's end; the only thoughts bouncing around the drummer's mind now are how warm her fingers feel and whether or not they'll use some of those shimmering fireworks he likes so much.]

Nope! They already ran the play for tonight, 'nd that's the only thing I had a schedule for.

[his brows crinkle in a silent sort of humor, like he's still amazed that for once he actually did have somewhere to be. writing that music really had been an amazing experience for him all around...he almost hopes he'll be able to do it again someday.]

'm all yours, dude.

we can probably let them fade out whenever!

[sonnestark]

Did they? I'm sorry I missed it.

[There are other nights to attend, at least, and she's certainly been meaning to. She can't say she's unhappy about how this particular evening has derailed, however, and something about the finality of his answer makes that heat linger in her cheeks for a few moments longer before she wills it away, forcing it to fade.]

But in that case— let's go, shall we?

[Bonfires were always nicer with company, and she's pretty sure she has some of the best at the moment.]