(Untitled)

[seafronted]

Who: Everyone!
What: Ritornare da Fias
Where: All around the city
When: October 21st through October 27th.

[ Following the royal announcement, many residents of Promenade can be seen in the streets. The city is clearly in the midst of autumn now, with red, orange, and gold leaves on the trees and cooler weather. During the day, the harvest is

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[mortestmamere]

And then he crushed his stepmother's skull with a millstone, avenging himself so that he could live among humankind once more.

[She finishes her gruesome tale with a smile, a group of horrified children staring up at her.]

[mortestmamere]

I don't believe we can have experiences and yet remain untouched by them.

[no_hometown]

Perhaps not, but my actions in my world will not continue until I awaken from my sleep. I can't say what effect this dream may have on me until then.

[mortestmamere]

Pragmatic... drearily pragmatic.

[no_hometown]

Is it? Yes, I suppose it is. How do you view the situation, if you so disapprove of my pragmatism?

[mortestmamere]

I do not see this dream as any different than my life, and I will throw myself into both with equal commitment.

[no_hometown]

I may see this dream as different, but I will act here with no less pride and commitment than I do in my waking hours.

[mortestmamere]

Can that be true when you know always in the back of your mind that this could be a dream and mean nothing?

[no_hometown]

Yet it could have meaning.

There is nothing that dims my commitment, waking or sleeping.

[mortestmamere]

[She smiles. It's certainly a nice thought, but she's not sure if she believes. Her own commitments she knew for certainties, but in others... they rarely bore such determination.]

[no_hometown]

[There are few people as determined as Sephiroth, in his world, at least.] For now, I observe. When I decide on an action, I will act.

[mortestmamere]

I'm sure I will see the blaze of it upon the horizon.

[Sigh. What a fruitcake.]

[no_hometown]

It is unlikely it will come to that.

[He remains as coolly tolerant and mildly amused as he usually is.] We will see, won't we?

[truailligh]

[The story catches her attention as she cuts past a group of children - sticky fingers, sticky faces, stay away from her and her dress - and she smiles. It's the kind of story she grew up with. There's a cautious smile on her face as she draws to a stop behind one of the horrified children, nudging the child just enough to feel one jump.]

A shame so many of your audience can't seem to appreciate what they're hearing.

[mortestmamere]

[Despite the smiling greeting, Christine stares up at Shirley with a rather glazed expression. She feels a great deal of resonance with such a creature of death, there's no helping it when she spent her childhood wrapped in a dead woman's cold arms.]

Death is relegated euphemism, cruelty painted as a trait possessed only by others. Children are crippled by de-fanged tales.

[truailligh]

[The look catches her off guard for a moment before she distracts hersef by needlessly smoothing her, listening and nodding.]

Death is made a mockery in this city, the children live pampered little dream lives of luxury. Sugarplum fairies for them. [She looks down at the children, her sneer out of place when she's done up like Holly Golightly.] As for cruelty, people like to inflict it without acknowledging it while claiming they're saints. I'm Shirley, you are?