open | a merry meri mingle

[sterngaze]

Who: Meridians new & old!
What: Cookout mingle
Where: Alenroux
When: Mid-March, after Vander's rescue
Warnings: Potentially alcohol consumption and violence, for the rowdy

After the initiation of Springstar's invasion plans for Alenroux, tensions among the Meridian-aligned might be a bit strained. The move comes as a surprise even for many of the shard-bearers within the faction itself, to say nothing of those whose livelihoods depend on the farms here. It's not yet clear what Highstorm's response will be, but one will certainly be coming; when that happens, someone is going to come out on the bottom, and their blood will be at least partially on Meridian's hands.

At times like this, the importance of maintaining morale can't be understated. A call goes out to the newest generation of those harmonized with Meridian's light: it's time to have a party!

PREPARATION:

Those who can are invited to help with the set-up. There are drinks to procure, foodstuffs to acquire and prepare, canopies to erect for shade, entertainments to organize. It's not meant to be a grand affair — the gathering is private, intended to foster camaraderie among the shard-bearers after long days and nights of work — but it will be a comfortable one, with edibles and enjoyments to offer to those taking solace in the company of their fellows.

It takes one of Alenroux's long days to make all the necessary arrangements — and then, late the following morning, after the night's monsters have slunk back into the woods, things are made ready. All that's left is for the guests to arrive.

THE EVENT:

Spring is still in the midst of taking hold over Alenroux, so a tall bonfire at the centre of the gathering place offers a toasty place to linger and chat throughout the day. Hot drinks and a variety of fire-roasted foods are on offer, including an entire deer helpfully supplied and prepared by Liem. Logs and stumps provide simple seating, and nearby canopies provide shade around the tables of food and drink. A little further away, sturdy tents provide more private gathering places for those wishing for a break from the hubbub.

And there will be hubbub. To break the ice between unfamiliar faces, a variety of contests have been set up over the course of the gathering. These range from simple arm-wrestling competitions, to three-legged races, to friendly sparring matches for those so-inclined. Gathered Meris are encouraged to spectate and bet amongst themselves on contest outcomes — and better yet, to volunteer to participate themselves during the next round.

For those who have already had a chance to relax and let off some steam, the gathering is a perfect opportunity to get to know one's fellow sect-mates a little better, and to reaffirm why Meridian called to them in the first place. Those gathered are encouraged to take the chance to tell a few tales about the place they came from, and to share the visions inside their Sunbeam with those from other worlds. A favourite place, a cherished person, an unkept promise, even an old enemy: all could be worth revisiting for a moment with new comrades in arms.

Comments

[prizeneck]

[It's interesting to see a new shard bearer already amid this. Last he had heard, the latest 'batch' had been very recent, and most had been cautious not to get too involved. He doesn't blame them, however.]

Busy is one way of putting it. [He barks a chuckle.] I've been here a while. This isn't usually this busy, but I feel like we ain't resting any time soon.

[bakedapple]

[ As the food scraps burn up in the fire, they start to send up puffs of black smoke with... varying degrees of pungency. Link does not seem to mind it at all, though, nor does he seem too concerned with putting his bare hands so close to the flame. ]

I'm too new to have much to say about it all. But... the soldiers do seem a bit agitated to me.

[ Having scraped most of the utensils, plates, and the pan clean by now, he hooks his hands under the stack and hefts them up off the table. Behind him, a few yards away, is a large wooden washbasin; he keeps talking as he peeks over the top of the dirty dishes and carefully shuffles over. ]

I don't really know how much I can contribute, but... if doing dirty dishes will help us get back to our worlds faster, I'll wash dishes all day. [ He flashes him a smile before dropping his armful into the soapy water with an inelegant crash of metal against metal. Er... this stuff won't break, right? Let's just hope not. ]

[prizeneck]

[For someone with very sensitive hearing, the crash makes him grimace just a little bit, but doesn't really mention it.

Though, his question probably barrels a lot louder.] What makes you believe that the worlds can be brought back?

[Although he knows that being where he is, most people would think he believes in Meridian's ideals. At this point, though, he finds himself curious as to the various motivations of others.]

[bakedapple]

[ The question comes as Link is rolling up his sleeves in preparation for dishwashing. He glances back up in Mamoru's direction, eyebrows raised in soft engagement. His right hand is paused on the elbow of his left arm, still folding back his sleeve. On the back of his hand, his triangle-shaped Shard glimmers with a polished-like shine. Battle scars large and small pockmark his forearm. ]

What makes me... believe it?

[ Considering this, he pauses again, looking back down into the water of the basin. ]

Hm. I suppose it isn't impossible we're being lied to, but is there a specific reason to think the worlds can't be brought back?

[ An earnest question. He hasn't heard one yet, aside from general mistrust of Cyrus' pitch. ]

[prizeneck]

Not at all.

[He can actually see how his skin is marred, much like his own. It's comparable, at least by what the shades can make out of the dents and slopes of Link's limbs. Someone proficient in swords, but also other weapons. Calluses between middle and forefinger — archery, too.]

Mamoru shakes his head. But there's no specific reason not to believe it, either.

[bakedapple]

I see.

[ There's a hint of relief in Link's voice. He really wants it to be true. Needs it to be true. Being told there might be some reason it isn't true would have definitely been the worst thing he's been told since accepting the sunbeam from Cyrus.

With a soft, huffed sigh, he plunges his bare hands into the cold water and starts scrubbing a plate with the dishrag. ]

...I guess I believe it because... it just makes sense to me. I don't know how to describe it.

[prizeneck]

[Well, Mamoru can't really argue against that. He chuckles, and then sets himself beside Link with a dry rag to dry whatever he washes.]

Your gut feeling is a valid source of information, just as much as any.

[bakedapple]

[ Link tips his head curiously when Mamoru sits beside him but does not question it. He welcomes the help and the company. With a lopsided smile, he passes him the wet plate, now clean, and plunges his hands back into the water to scrub another one. ]

I try not to think about what it'd mean if the Zenites are right. [ Spoken softly, like he knows it's tantamount to admitting that his gut instinct would very well be wrong, despite Mamoru's reassurance. He goes silent for a moment as he scrubs. ] What about you? What has you convinced? If you are convinced.

[prizeneck]

Sounds like you have something very valuable back there.

[No one would be so avoidant about the other outcome otherwise. Mamoru carefully wipes the clean plate, the rag quickly getting too damp too quick, and he tries not to think of something philosophically ironic there.

He shakes his head.] I'm not. Convinced, I mean.

[bakedapple]

[ To say he has something valuable back home is an understatement. Everything is back home. He is here, in Kenos, but... who and what is he, really, without Hyrule? Without his people and his friends and his Princess?

The opportunity to change the topic of conversation is a relief. He passes another plate to Mamoru. ]

...but, here you are. [ he gives him a meaningful glance before looking back to the dishes. ] The Meridian must have something to offer you, even if you're not convinced?

[prizeneck]

[Himself, Mamoru would say. At the end of everything, wouldn't Link be alone with himself and his own decisions?

Though he just takes the next plate, dries it.]

The way I see it, [hah, ironic. He sets the plate down on top of the other dry one, starting a stack,] is that you don't gotta burn a bridge if you decide not to cross it.