[ She's a creature who remembers the old magic and has it flowing in her veins. It calls to her-- the promise of the new year, a familiar voice on the wind, and the smell of cleansing fire. The white fox comes to pay her respects to the coming and going of measurable time.
Quvianuq approaches as close as she dares, clutching a bundle of snowdrop flowers in her small hands. ]
[Jast's blue eyes in the orange glow of the flames seem almost purple, but as he turns his head towards her, they regain their proper azure flare. A smile touches his face and he goes to her.]
[ Her mouth curves into a gentle smile when he comes to her, and with the the soft shyness of a creature accustomed to being hidden, she presses her offering of white flowers into his hands. A gift. ]
And I you. [ She turns her face towards the heat of the flames. ] It is very beautiful.
[ The stars bear witness, yes. And also the gods. The flicker of malice touching the borders of this warmth and love is Eris, Goddess of Discord. She has chosen to come and press her presence on this sacrifice-- if only because she prefers to appear where she is least invited. She keeps her distance for now, watching. Waiting. ]
[ She smiles. Cold and unfriendly. She speaks the tongue of man-- purposefully. Perhaps to spite this gentle boy, for no reason other than she hates to make things easy for anyone. ]
I wouldn't miss such a generous sacrifice.
[ A pause, then pointedly: ] Unless, of course, Discordia is not welcome here.
[He keeps the frown off of his face, though he feels it. She disconcerts him deeply, but she is much much greater than he is and he knows she is simply a part of the world and he owes her his obeisance as much as any other.]
[There is a gust of hot sand on the outer barrier of this roiling, burning scene, where love and compassion eat at the clear cold air. The heat and humidity settles before the figure, raking in a wave of permeating death, the reek of carcass and corpse, the stench of rot under a blazing sun. A creature has made its arrival.]
....you break his heartaut_augurJanuary 1 2010, 07:32:50 UTC
[Jast looks up, startled, blue eyes wide and defensive. He puts himself between this thing and all that have gathered to watch the exultation. Death may be a part of this world, but there are rules and he will see them obeyed.]
gently and tenderlyrougecarrionJanuary 1 2010, 07:39:11 UTC
[It is an entirely too pretty thing to sneer so ugly, to smell so repulsive, lips stretched apart and for a moment there are white wriggling maggots on its tongue--with a hyena's black hysterical cackle, they seem to disappear.]
Hello, precious little thing. Don't mind this old ghoul.
[It unnerves him. The thick reek of death and madness push at him, hurt him and nauseate him. He shakes it off, rises up and watches, something pinched around the corner of his mouth.]
May the night find you peaceful.
[A soft warning, and an earnest hope that perhaps the ceremony has some meaning to it as well.]
[ The margay has no offering. She's grown distant from the ancient ways, from blessings and sacrifices. But what little she remembers brings her to this place. She does, after all, have things to be thankful for and things to hope for, however uncertain she might be about those things.
She wears her favorite scarf to ward off the cold (his scarf, her scarf) and stands just close enough that the warmth of that fire touches her. ]
[They have had their moment of cheer and gratitude, but he is a gracious thing and is pleased to see her. He comes to stand with her for a little while.]
[ She lifts her head to him when she hears his voice, quirking a mild smile. In her way, she is pleased to see him, too. ]
My hopes? [ Renata exhales, considering this. She hasn't thought to puts words to what she wants yet-- probably doesn't fully understand it herself. ] ...To enjoy what I have as long as it lasts, I suppose.
[For one reason or another, it startles him to be called by his name. It shows in the faint flicker of eyelashes, but that is all. He considers her question instead, expression turning distant.]
I would like for the people I love most to be happy.
[He glances at her. Not one of his lovers, not family, but he wishes it for her all the same.]
[Mist stands slightly back from the tree, watching the flames against the dark sky, a bundle of evergreen branches and winter berries in his arms. He feels the warmth of the fire against his face, the softness of Jast's magic in the air. None of it seems to settle in him, a solitary figure standing unswayed.
He's not alone, though he seems it. Fallen stands much closer to the tree, a silhouette against the flexing light of it. Neither of them seek Jast out, know he's probably busy with others, content to stand within the circle and give their respect.]
[He can feel Fallen when he comes, doubts very much that he's come here without Mist and so he goes in search of the little earth beast first. Finds him a step back from everything, pale skin faintly awash by the year's last fire.
Jast just watches him for a moment, wants to know he's happy but can't tell from a distance, so he makes his approach. He would have hugged Mist, if his arms hadn't been full, if he had been able to tell if it was wanted or not.]
[Jast stands next to him, his hands laced loosely at the small of his back. They can still stand and watch it together even though there are things to say rolling around in Jast's chest that he can't quite get out. He wants to ask if the year was a good one, but part of him thinks that might be insensitive.
Comments 73
Quvianuq approaches as close as she dares, clutching a bundle of snowdrop flowers in her small hands. ]
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I am glad to see you.
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And I you. [ She turns her face towards the heat of the flames. ] It is very beautiful.
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Was the year kind to you, Quivanuq?
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I am honored you would come.
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I wouldn't miss such a generous sacrifice.
[ A pause, then pointedly: ] Unless, of course, Discordia is not welcome here.
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I... would never turn you away.
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Greetings.
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Hello, precious little thing. Don't mind this old ghoul.
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May the night find you peaceful.
[A soft warning, and an earnest hope that perhaps the ceremony has some meaning to it as well.]
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She wears her favorite scarf to ward off the cold (his scarf, her scarf) and stands just close enough that the warmth of that fire touches her. ]
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Your hopes for the new year, Renata?
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My hopes? [ Renata exhales, considering this. She hasn't thought to puts words to what she wants yet-- probably doesn't fully understand it herself. ] ...To enjoy what I have as long as it lasts, I suppose.
What about you, Jast?
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I would like for the people I love most to be happy.
[He glances at her. Not one of his lovers, not family, but he wishes it for her all the same.]
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He's not alone, though he seems it. Fallen stands much closer to the tree, a silhouette against the flexing light of it. Neither of them seek Jast out, know he's probably busy with others, content to stand within the circle and give their respect.]
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Jast just watches him for a moment, wants to know he's happy but can't tell from a distance, so he makes his approach. He would have hugged Mist, if his arms hadn't been full, if he had been able to tell if it was wanted or not.]
You came.
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Yes.
[He glances down at the offering in his arms before looking up at the fire again.]
It's beautiful.
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He tries something else.]
Do you... have a wish, for the new year?
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