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aterat2020-08-09 12:29 pm
ateratmods) wrote in aterat2020-08-09 12:29 pm
(no subject)
Who; Everyone!
What; Pulse log; REMEMBRANCE
Where; Throughout the City
When; August 8th - 15th
Warnings; Will update when and as necessary
In the days leading up to August 8th, the city is abuzz with activity. Businesses in the Merchant district have posted notices they will be closed the following week in observance of something called “Remembrance”. The Aspects are absent this week, though that doesn’t seem particularly out of the ordinary, and it’s easy to get caught up in what is quite a celebratory time in the city. Harvests and meats are being brought in from the outlying farms, the main square is being cordoned into stalls for food, drink, and performances. The guard is more present this week, keeping a close eye on the organization and watching for any miscreants.
As the time of the festival approaches, a quiet excitement seems to thrum through the others here, young and old alike, and on the evening of the 8th, a commencement parade makes its way through the market district.
The procession, filled with musicians, dancers, jugglers, and the like, make their way from the fountain square to the center of the market district, where a crude stage has been erected in the square at the center of the market district, in front of the guard headquarters. It’s nothing fancy, but it does serve the purpose of bringing to the attention of those gathered those who stand atop it.
A tall man in a Guardsman’s blue uniform climbs the stairs, steel plates glittering in the midday sun. He has a stern countenance, and there’s a stiffness through his shoulders that suggests he isn’t overly fond of public speeches. He takes a steadying breath before clearing his throat.
“People of Aterat, those of us who were risen from its ashes and those of us who have been gathered to kindle its flame,” he pauses here for a moment, giving his address an air of gravitas. “Welcome. I am Captain Orson Khannar, of the Aterat City Guard. I was a guardsman before the Fall and I can tell you we stand as a shadow of our former selves, but we do stand. Two years ago, today, the Aspects descended from the Fountain, all that remained of our once proud land, they saw the ruin wrought upon it, and they began to weave. There was little of us left, but what stands was reassembled because we Remembered.” A cheer rises from the collected locals, along with a few scattered cries of ‘bless the Aspects’ and ‘long may Halcyn reign’. Captain Khannar raises a hand to still the crowd and after a moment, their cheers and raised prayers quiet.
“But we did not remember enough. This year, the Creator has provided, and we welcome among us memories from other worlds. This Remembrance, do not forget their sacrifice.” His tone changes then, and his piercing gaze moves across all those who have come here from elsewhere. “Outlanders, I expect nothing of you, but I offer you a warning: we are not your captors but we are your neighbors. As such, we will hold you to the same standards to which we hold ourselves. I am the Captain of your guard, and it is my sworn oath to keep this city safe from miscreants. That said, those of you who are willing and able, I would welcome your aid. Surely by now you have seen our fair city has its share of problems. My office is just there across the square.”
And with that bit of business handled, he directs his attention back to the crowd. “A Happy Remembrance to us all!” The crowd cheers again, though less enthusiastically, as a few look around at those gathered from other worlds, uncertain if they share the Captain’s willingness to welcome the aid of ‘Outlanders’.
The rest of the week is a city-wide party. The taverns are overflowing with merrymakers, there is wine and food for all, music at all hours of the day and night. Performers come out in droves, there are artists, artisans, and the like. If you can think of a festival occurrence, it happens at some point, though all the shops are closed for normal hours. It seems it’s quite the holiday, and you are welcome to invent whatever you'd like for a scene.
The Captain remains true to his word, and the Guard HQ in the Market Square seems to be the only place operating normally. There are regular patrols throughout the events, but Captain Khannar can be found most days in his office, upstairs in the HeadQuarters, should anyone like to question him.
What; Pulse log; REMEMBRANCE
Where; Throughout the City
When; August 8th - 15th
Warnings; Will update when and as necessary
In the days leading up to August 8th, the city is abuzz with activity. Businesses in the Merchant district have posted notices they will be closed the following week in observance of something called “Remembrance”. The Aspects are absent this week, though that doesn’t seem particularly out of the ordinary, and it’s easy to get caught up in what is quite a celebratory time in the city. Harvests and meats are being brought in from the outlying farms, the main square is being cordoned into stalls for food, drink, and performances. The guard is more present this week, keeping a close eye on the organization and watching for any miscreants.
As the time of the festival approaches, a quiet excitement seems to thrum through the others here, young and old alike, and on the evening of the 8th, a commencement parade makes its way through the market district.
The procession, filled with musicians, dancers, jugglers, and the like, make their way from the fountain square to the center of the market district, where a crude stage has been erected in the square at the center of the market district, in front of the guard headquarters. It’s nothing fancy, but it does serve the purpose of bringing to the attention of those gathered those who stand atop it.
A tall man in a Guardsman’s blue uniform climbs the stairs, steel plates glittering in the midday sun. He has a stern countenance, and there’s a stiffness through his shoulders that suggests he isn’t overly fond of public speeches. He takes a steadying breath before clearing his throat.
“People of Aterat, those of us who were risen from its ashes and those of us who have been gathered to kindle its flame,” he pauses here for a moment, giving his address an air of gravitas. “Welcome. I am Captain Orson Khannar, of the Aterat City Guard. I was a guardsman before the Fall and I can tell you we stand as a shadow of our former selves, but we do stand. Two years ago, today, the Aspects descended from the Fountain, all that remained of our once proud land, they saw the ruin wrought upon it, and they began to weave. There was little of us left, but what stands was reassembled because we Remembered.” A cheer rises from the collected locals, along with a few scattered cries of ‘bless the Aspects’ and ‘long may Halcyn reign’. Captain Khannar raises a hand to still the crowd and after a moment, their cheers and raised prayers quiet.
“But we did not remember enough. This year, the Creator has provided, and we welcome among us memories from other worlds. This Remembrance, do not forget their sacrifice.” His tone changes then, and his piercing gaze moves across all those who have come here from elsewhere. “Outlanders, I expect nothing of you, but I offer you a warning: we are not your captors but we are your neighbors. As such, we will hold you to the same standards to which we hold ourselves. I am the Captain of your guard, and it is my sworn oath to keep this city safe from miscreants. That said, those of you who are willing and able, I would welcome your aid. Surely by now you have seen our fair city has its share of problems. My office is just there across the square.”
And with that bit of business handled, he directs his attention back to the crowd. “A Happy Remembrance to us all!” The crowd cheers again, though less enthusiastically, as a few look around at those gathered from other worlds, uncertain if they share the Captain’s willingness to welcome the aid of ‘Outlanders’.
The rest of the week is a city-wide party. The taverns are overflowing with merrymakers, there is wine and food for all, music at all hours of the day and night. Performers come out in droves, there are artists, artisans, and the like. If you can think of a festival occurrence, it happens at some point, though all the shops are closed for normal hours. It seems it’s quite the holiday, and you are welcome to invent whatever you'd like for a scene.
The Captain remains true to his word, and the Guard HQ in the Market Square seems to be the only place operating normally. There are regular patrols throughout the events, but Captain Khannar can be found most days in his office, upstairs in the HeadQuarters, should anyone like to question him.
no subject
Syeira looked down at the cards and pointed to the first. "Five of Coins. This is your past. It is very sad. Failure. There is an error. Something disconnected or destitute. A lost love." She moved over to the card that indicated his present state. "Six of Coins. This is your mask. Material gain. Charity. You do not know who you are."
She paused before lightly pressing her fingers against the final card. "And this is your future if you continue to pretend. Continued oppression. Following old ways. You are trapped and if these two cards are any indication, it is not by this world but by something within you."
Her fingers move again. "That is why I drew a fourth card. This is your Siren. Creative opportunities, possibility. Do you speak to her Nida? I think you should listen. She might guide you where you cannot guide yourself."
no subject
"Siren does no such thing. She's an elemental spirit of my world that fights monsters and darkness. Don't judge what you don't know."
He knows the way that street prophets and seeresses work, of course. Make vague statements to lure you in, to make you feel like the generalized statements are true. It's only the knowing that keeps him from freaking out. Most people his age had been in love in their teens, some puppy love bullshit, so that's why she's claiming that in his past. No way she knows what he lost. And the disconnected could be how anyone feels heading out into the world, so it's not that he's an orphan. As for masks, no one is completely honest in the real world, and they want to see nice. No way she knows he's a mercenary. Or that his convictions had wavered to be replaced by a genuine desire to protect others.
It's the other parts that annoy him. Trapped by something within himself? Bullshit. No Hyne damned way. And the old ways, falling back to what he was, that was just survival. No. He won't believe. She is making this shit up to con him out of money.
No, what gets him most is the way Siren laughs. The spirit outright laughs in his mind, a tinkling sort of sound, trembling through his very blood. This person she likes. This person properly describes a glorious being such as Siren. Creative indeed. What other GF created something of art, instead of just elemental force? She took the compliment and would happily run with it.
"She says you're a con artist and lying through your teeth," Nida says, trying not to be shaken by just how pleased Siren was. "Someone with pretty words and generalities and a perhaps just a touch of magic to be able to scan me and tell that I have her junctioned. But the rest of what you say is a farce."
no subject
She had messed up. Mami had told her not to read into someone's future or past but she hadn't been able to help herself. This poor man was lost and confused. She wanted to protect him but it was impossible to protect someone from themselves.
"If that is what she says. Then you should believe it. I do not know her but she is a gift to you and she will offer you a clarity and understanding that no one else will." She paused thoughtfully and looked a little less mysterious and a little more disjointed. "A Siren in my world is something else but I remember they were alluring. I think... would like to know her. I haven't ever seen an entity like her before." Though Syeira doubted that was possible.
Nida was too upset.
Syeria kept her head bowed. "It's alright and I understand. You are right, I do my work in hopes of donations, to live and to eat, but you don't have to give me anything. No matter your choice or your opinion, I will answer any question you have to the best of my ability." She picked up her cards and placed them on the table between them. "Please, ask me. If it makes you feel more comfortable, I can put the cards away."
no subject
"I don't even know what to ask you. Other than can you prove that you've got any real power."
no subject
"Do you want me to read into your past? I could see it but... there are many things that people wish to keep hidden and- I haven't had the best control since I arrived here."
Her expression was regretful and sad. She was being honest with him and it cost her something. The statement chipped away at the warm glow of hope that she's kept protectively cradled within her chest.
no subject
"I can't comment on your control. All I can do is watch the result of it."
no subject
"Your path is disjointed. You were in another place and another... neither was your home. There were-" She winced again, unable to see the people clearly. "Rings. An empty town. Before that... before that... you hid who you are and- hurt people?"
Her eyes opened and she released his hand. Her head was pounding, each imagine overlapping in nonsensical patterns.
no subject
Frankly he'd have jerked his hand away from Syeira at the mention of rings if he wasn't so... baffled by everything else. So shocked. Because... Because that's not all things that can be guessed at.
He takes his hand back in shock and looks at her.
"You... actually see. Then can I ask you something?"
no subject
"Without my father. It's hard for me to control."
Jagger helped but he was still learning how to use his powers to keep her from going crazy.
"But please, ask your question. I will try my best. If not today. Tomorrow."
CW: Referenced suicide attempt
Instead of speaking at first, Nida's hands move to his wrists. Off come the leather cuff bracelets. Off come the variety of other baubles and odds and ends that hide his skin from view. It's very deliberate that he wears so much, that much us made abundantly clear when they are off and he holds his hands back out for her.
When he shows the scars.
"These healed, when I was brought back into the first world that kidnapped me. I haven't been home since. Tell me, if you can. Can I even go home? Am I even alive there? Or is this all I can ever have?"
no subject
She doesn't speak but reaches forward, gently resting her palms over the scar's that litter his wrist. Her eyes close and she lets the weave sweep her to the time and place when the marks were first made. She bypasses other moments --when the scars were shown, touched and shared-- but those moments were short enough for her to continue forward.
One timeline to another. One weave and then nothing and then another weave.
She gasps as if she can't breathe, her fingers clamp around his wrists as she holds onto the path. "Almost." Syeira whispered as her head reeled from the change. It was the first time she'd tried to see between worlds and it was different from the flashes that normally overlapped her vision or the flashes of visions from another person's touch. This was deliberate and focused.
Her eyes opened and her pupils shrank until he could only see her iris. She was blind but she saw the event. "You live."
As soon as she had a clear vision she let go of his wrists, her head reeled, pain shot through her temples, her eyes rolled back, her eyelids closed and she collapsed. Her body sliding out of her chair and onto the ground behind her divination table.
no subject
"Hyne!" he curses as she collapses. Nida puts his hands on the table and vaults it easily, landing lightly on his feet at her side.
Nida scoops an arm under Syeira and frowns. Something he did hurt her. Dammit.
"Siren, I need you," he whispers under his breath, and his eyes flash briefly into a rich shade of brass, completely consuming pupil, iris, and the white. Magic rose to his fingertips quickly and he whispered under his breath, casting the cure spell on the woman.
It couldn't do much, easing bruises, maybe prompting the minor closing of some cuts. Mostly, he's doing it because he knows the spell can help wash away some fatigue. And, well, he intends to shove a few in her if he has to.
"Wake up. Wake up wake up. I'm so sorry."
no subject
"I'm sorry." Her voice didn't rise above a whisper. "That happens sometimes. It is hard to see between worlds and you've been-" She had to pause to gather her strength and take a breath. "You've been to so many."
Syeira's fingers trembled as she placed a hand on Nida's shoulder to lift herself to a seated position. Her skirt gathered around her, while the pair of them hid behind her small table.
"I just need a little rest, is all." She looked up at Nida, worry creasing her brow. "Are you alright? What I saw. You were in so much pain then." Her hand gently reached up and slowly cupped his cheek, if he'd let her. "I'm so sorry."
no subject
Her question is... so deeply upsetting that he doesn't even know how to handle it.
"Okay, you literally just passed out because I was a Hyne-damned asshole, and you're asking if I'm alright? You must have hit your head. Please, I..."
He doesn't know how to talk about it. About how love and friendship brought him back and how all of that love and friendship was gone now. So he shies away from her hand.
"Just let me make it up to you."
no subject
"It's alright. Really. This happens to me a lot. My brother is usually there to stop me from pushing to hard and it's... harder here. Away from my clan." She shook her head. "I just need to rest."
She pushed herself up but waited for a few seconds and then attempted to rise, using the table and chair to assist her. "If you want to make it up to me. Then let's be friends." She slid into the chair, placing her hands on her lap. She felt incredibly exhausted but was trying to right herself. "It's very lonely here. For all of us."
no subject
There's no actual curse. He's just a pessimist. But with a lot of reasons behind it.
no subject
She looked up at him and for a brief moment she looked as if she was staring at something standing behind him. "I don't see a curse but- maybe I'm cursed too. I've never had a friend. Besides my Clan and I failed them." She looked down at her fingers as they gathered her skirt in her palms. "It wasn't until until I came here that I made friends. But, being alone, it is worse. It is more painful than any pain I have seen or experienced." Even the madness she feared.
"Can you imagine seeing it all? The past and future. I can't always control it. I... try really hard to stay in the present but it's hard sometimes. I can see. We can be great friends. It isn't a curse. Even if bad things happen. It takes strength to be friends. To chance being hurt but I already feel that. I feel the pain's of the future. Of everything taking place within the weave." She paused as if she was struggling to explain. "I'm not good at this. That is, explaining. It's so jumbled but... I'd rather wake up from seeing the future or past, with someone near me."
no subject
"I'm not a fan of messing with the past or the future, to be honest. In my world, that has led to some very serious problems. Namely a time witch who decided the world would be best if she ruled it all by compressing all of time into a singular point in which only she could exist. And her situation led to a stable time-loop to ensure that her actions would lead to her own ability to affect time, not to mention the seed of her downfall. It's all a mess. Time should be allowed to flow for itself."
Still, she has given him some hope for his future if he ever returns home.
"If you're tired, I can escort you home. Or I can offer you a few more curative spells. I sort of owe you, for wearing you out with the assurance that I'm not dead back home. Not that I want to go home."
no subject
She looked at her table and then at the deck. "Could you help me carry this back to the red building? That is where my place is. I think I should lay down."
Syeira didn't know how his healing magic worked but she was worried about hurting him.
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He reaches out and slowly starts to tidy up her cards.
"Table too? Or just the cards and stuff? I'm Red myself, so I'll be happy to walk you."
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No one liked being alone.
She shook her head. "I borrowed the table form that store there. I'd like to return it or let them know that I am finished for today. The table cloth and cards are mine." They had been nice enough to lend it to her though Syeira assumed that it was because of the event and not something she could depend on.
no subject
With that said he starts to very carefully gather her cards and wrap them in the cloth. It seems the most respectful way to do this.
"I'm sorry. For what I asked of you. But... you gave me something I haven't had in a long time. Hope."
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Syeira reached forward and gently took the cards and the table cloth from him. "It's alright. I don't mind. I'm glad." She smiled. "Hope is a wonderful thing."
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Once she had the cards safely in hand he gestures for the door.
"It's something I surrendered. You know why. I was... weak."
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She reached over and gently squeezed his hand.
"And if you want to talk, come find me. I like the company." Plus, she'd already declared them friends.
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/end here?
roger