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

[passio]

[ dextera knows. it doesn’t feel good to understand that, even so. ]

Wishing can make you sick.

[ in other words, he agrees, he’s wanted to change his own sins so badly he’s been physically damaged by it; mamoru has nothing to fear from dextera having heard. ]

…but you still want to go back, don’t you? Is it because you want to atone? Or…

[prizeneck]

[It's there that Mamoru does turn to where Dextera is standing, his boots scraping on the forest ground underneath the sole, the crackle loud to his ears within this muted conversation. Looking at him doesn't help him parse what he's feeling nor aid in any way in what he wants to convey. But it does lend to the whole feeling behind his words, the showcase of the quirk of his lip, or even a glimpse of the monster that it had been shouted about.]

I've been beyond atonement for a while.

[passio]

[ dextera wonders. he’s been thinking a lot about atonement. that’s what this all is to him, the desire to fix things and relieve the weight on his shoulders; if he isn’t beyond atonement in the cosmic sense, he doubts mamoru is either… but his experience with baroques knows that one’s sense of self can make all the difference.

if mamoru believes he’s an unsalvageable existence, then he is. ]

So why don’t you die?

[ it was dextera’s solution, even though it failed. he wonders what mamoru’s is instead. ]

[prizeneck]

[A huff of a laugh rolls out of his chest and mouth with some humor. The question is charged. So strong, in fact, he knows that were there any others listening in or the target of it, and they'd gasp, push back, shocked at Dextera's forwardness. The swordsman, instead, looks at the curious slant of his body and feels the trail that those words left behind before they made themselves known. Something ashen, dark, and yet so very personal.

And death. Well.

Mamoru is comfortable with the subject. Every day or night when he wakes up after yet again a short amount of rest, he imagines himself dying. A knife to the throat, a gunshot through the stomach. The sky suddenly falling. (And that one is the most terrifying, considering he hasn't seen the sky in so long.) There's something poetic to the end of his existence being as nonchalant as tripping on a rock. So, in a sense, the Mamoru that stands here doesn't budge because he already considers himself dead.]

Ain't what death is about. ['Life is hell, and its demons are here,' he once had heard.]

[passio]

[ there are people like that, too. dextera can’t quite imagine it. his conscious mind thinks that maybe death would be preferable to what he suffers now, but every time he comes close, he runs and claws and fights his way back above water. maybe he should die, but he’s not ready.

mamoru is living in a different world, and dextera isn’t sure whether he should feel pity or envy. ]

…

[ quiet, and then: ]

…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.

[prizeneck]

[A long time ago, Mamoru learned that resolve comes in different shapes. But most of all, he's learned that despite the foundations and architecture with which that motivation is formed, they all knot down to something in common.

How would you want to die?

The swordsman shakes his head.]

What, you think I took offense to it?

[passio]

[ it certainly doesn’t seem like it, but a blithe approach to death or redemption doesn’t seem like a healthy answer either. after a brief hesitation, dextera shakes his head, and he seems a bit more like his usual mousey self. ]

It’s just… personal.

[ with the door open, though… ]

Then what’s your plan? …going back.