Remember, Remember

[vendettaevey]

The chance meeting in the garden with Jo Grant had been rather more fruitful than Evey had expected.  They'd got to chatting and eventually decided that a bonfire in honor of Guy Fawkes Night was just the thing.  Jo seemed to have slightly more positive associations with the holiday, with more fireworks and less explosions, but Evey didn't begrudge

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[how_itgoes]

Sam is wondering at the fire, but one quick recollection of the date and he's got it. He's almost feeling strange for not being on patrol in the streets tonight to quelch any activity that might be too dangerous or illegal. He stays, though, because of some tie back to a life that once was and he wonders what's happening back home right now. Actually, he's still wondering what's happening back home between Alex and Gene.

Really, he's also beginning to wonder when this place became home.

[vendettaevey]

Evey's not sure she knows the man, but that's not really important here with so many arrivals all the time -- it was an open invitation anyway. She's also not sure he wishes to speak to anyone, but she can't just ignore him.

Just in case he doesn't really wish to converse extensively, though, she just smiles and greets him with a polite and quiet, "Good evening."

[how_itgoes]

Sam's distracted but not upset about it and he looks up to find a woman looking his way and he looks right back. "Evening," he greets politely. "Am I intruding on anything?"

[vendettaevey]

"No, not at all," she assures him sincerely. "Jo and I thought we ought to celebrate the Fifth. Well, it was mostly Jo, actually."

It was mostly Jo, Evey's efforts for the wood and the fireworks aside.

[andsadofeye]

Evey had mentioned it to him when he'd been a child, and now, as an adult, he stood in the circle of the firelight. Behind him, 37 was snuffling and rolling in the sand, content in a game completely of his own design. John adjusted his rolled up sleeve.

Remember, remember the fifth of November...
Guy Fawkes, and his attempt to send Parliament up in flames and now they burne fires in remembrance.

God, those had been strange days.

[vendettaevey]

Evey turned to John and smiled at both him and 37's antics. She was glad someone had actually come, really, though she was suppressing the desire to ask him if he remembered the first Guy Fawkes. She'd gotten the feeling he was quite a bit older than he looked.

"What do you suppose he's looking for?" she asked, though she didn't expect him to have an answer.

[andsadofeye]

"He's just a baby," said John, smiling down at his puppy affectionately. "I bet he doesn't even know what he's looking for."

He bent and picked up a stray stick from the sand, tossing it into the fire.

"I was just thinking...This is a funny tradition. Very British."

[vendettaevey]

The puppy looked as if he were going to chase the stick for a moment, but thankfully did not as soon as the ultimate trajectory was clear.

"Oh, quite," she agreed with a chuckle. "Someone tried to blow up Parliament, so we'll have a grand party with very large fires and more explosive things if at all possible."

And then you'll blow up the Old Bailey to the sounds of the 1812 Overture, if you're V.

[yoursarahjane]

Some things simply drew Sarah Jane to their side. In the case of tonight, it was the fire that brought her forth and only a recollection of the date gave any sort of explanation as to why it existed. She stayed and she wanted to stay, she almost needed to. Some days drew people to them, some objects did. A fire on Guy Fawkes Night was more than enough to keep her there and she pulled up a place to sit, simply watching the flickering flames and thinking of all the places in history she could be at this very moment.

[coffee_sir]

"Remember, remember," Ianto intoned, rather playfully, as he came a thoughtful-looking Sarah Jane Smith. He had his hands stuck in the pockets of his sweater jacket and a pleasant grin on his face. "How are you, Sarah Jane?"

[yoursarahjane]

Sarah Jane glanced over and let loose a small smile on her face, shaking her head. "Well, I've just been by the nomination sheet and some genius decided it would be smart to second my name?" she commented, arching a brow. "A genius with very distinctive writing, I might add."

[coffee_sir]

Ianto put on his best expression of innocence. And it was very good indeed, if only he hadn't already been found out. "But a genius nonetheless," he pointed out. "Isn't that something, to have someone that brilliant show such faith in you?"

[alas_yorick]

The giant fire was sort of hard to miss, and on an island where the evening's entertainment was usually a book by firelight, Yorick was curious. There was a crowd gathered, eating, talking, the usual. Yorick stayed near the edge, wondering what it was for.

"We don't need no water, let the island burn?" he mumbled to himself. Overhead, fireworks lit up the sky.

[gotacigarette]

"It's the fifth."

She doesn't so much creep up behind him, but, probably, the smoke from the fire masks the smell of her cigarette. It feels weird to be standing around a fire and not be huddled in her layers, bare arms and cut off combats, bare foot on the sand.

Sometimes, it's just a relief to leave her boots at home.

"Back home, things were getting so bad that Hatcher was talking about banning festivities. The Press had started calling it Hell Night."

[alas_yorick]

"Fifth of what?" Yorick asked, because that didn't explain a whole lot to him. He looked over after he asked, and if he had to he'd guess it was something tied to Halloween.

[gotacigarette]

"November," says Eden, slipping her cigarette back between her lips. "About a million years ago some bastard tried to blow Parliament up and didn't. Now they burn him in effigy. Poor fucker had the right idea, if you ask me."

[saikamai]

Cuthbert was a firebug, had been all of his young life, and so it wasn't surprising that he'd found his way down to the beach. He'd first seen (and smelled) the smoke at the tail end of his lantern-lighting route, and so instead turning back toward the Hamlet, he headed straight for the beach.

It was a good fire; large and well-built and November-fragrant. Cuthbert looked up to watch the sparks flee from the blaze, lit against the night sky in orange swirls. November nights in Gilead had been as crisp and chilly as a new apple, but the island was more like Mejis. He should have been happy, bonfires always made him happy, but as he got close and really felt the heat coming off it, heard the logs shifting and popping, he suddenly found

(come, reap)

his enthusiasm drained. He sat down, partially turned so that he could feel the shimmering heat against one half of his face, rolled a cigarette, lit a smaller fire of his own, and thought.

[polly_okeefe]

I'd heard about this bonfire through the grapevine and, having nothing better to do, I decided to check it out. Fortunately, I was better prepared for the walk, now, sticking to the lit and easy paths. And I think I'm getting more used to the long walks of this island.

Arriving, I wondered if I'd made a mistake. I couldn't find a familiar face, here. It wasn't unlike the masked ball--

But just as I was about to despair, I saw a silhouette that I recognized, though I still didn't know his name. I smiled, came up behind him, and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Hey, there, Mysterious Stranger," I said.

[saikamai]

Cuthbert turned around, looking up as he did so. "Oh," he said, his smile broadening as he realized where he'd met her. "Polly. How's thee?"

[polly_okeefe]

I blinked and raised my eyebrows at 'thee', and wondered again where he came from. Maybe I'd have more time to learn, this time. I hoped that his smile meant permission, and I sat down next to him, curling my legs up to my chest.

"I do... okay," I replied. "I have a hut, I have a couple of friends. It's not home, but it'll do for now. You?"