kenoslogs | open | a merry meri mingle

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open | a merry meri mingle

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.

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[He has to admit that it is better, less nerve-wracking, to tell Hayame the truth about his role while her hand is clasped so tight and warm around his. The closeness helps to bleed off some of the sting, just as he supposes it's meant to bleed off the chaos of Discord muddying his shard.]

Essentially, yes. Do not mistake me; it is a necessary job. I take pride in doing it well.

But it is not necessary to be a good man to be a good taxmaster. In fact, it is hard to be both a good taxmaster and a good man.

[Sometimes, the solution to his church's problems involved measures that the church would not be pleased to have associated with them. Officially, it didn't condone these sorts of solutions — but failing to cover his tracks properly in the past had only ever earned him a slap on the wrist. He had not been so clumsy in many, many years, but he's sure that committing such a gaffe now would be all the excuse his temple needed to strip his rank as priest from him, and return him to being little more than the church's dog.]

An exemplary taxmaster eliminates threats to the faith without wavering, even if they must sin to do so.

[Hayame should likely feel ashamed for how much trouble she has focusing on Liem's words just because they are touching like they are. But there is no changing that she is overly focused on it. Is she sweating? Are her palms too hot? Is her grip too tight?

But she is trying to listen. The problem is...]

Do you wish for me to tell you that you are not a good man?

[He's saying that he's killed people- she's pretty sure. That for his church he had eliminated threats in the shadows, but even so... Her expression grows darker, more contemplative, unsure of just how much of her own life had been broadcast in the space between Horus and their lost worlds. Liem had waited for her then, and not cast judgement, but.]

How is someone like myself supposed to do that?

[Judging others is never something Hayame has struggled with, even when it was hypocritical. But to Liem, who she had met under the most incredulous of circumstances... she extends exemption without realizing it. Someone like her, who had acted as an overseer to her own people, who had recaptured escaped jinba and consigned them to the fate of breeding stables and armless-ness that she herself feared most...]

[When Liem explains more to Hayame about his role in Abadar's church, when she asks him if he wants her to tell him that he isn't a good man — he has to think about it. Is that what he's been trying to get her to do? To admit that she was wrong and agree that he isn't a good person after all? His eyebrows draw together as he regards her, frowning up (and up, and up) at her from his seat on the rough wooden bench.]

No. You don't have to.

[Liem looks back down at their joined hands, tightly laced like they're bosom friends making a lifelong promise, and feels himself lose what panic-spurred determination he'd had. In truth, he doesn't wish for one of the few real companions he has to denounce him. It would be a sad thing for him to lose this, on top of everything else.]

I simply… didn't want your opinion of me to be rooted in ignorance.

[If she knows what kind of role he's fighting to return to back home, and she still wants to believe that he is a good person… even if he can't agree, he doesn't have the heart to object.]

You are not a bad person, Hayame.

[Even if he had wanted her to... Hayame would have refused. She has refused so much in her life that it likely would have been easy to do, even if he insisted. She does not have... she did not think she had friends. Amos had told her that friends did the things they did... and then he had betrayed her trust and the things she'd told him in confidence for the sake of that damned woman Yima and her goals. Set had called her his friend when trying to introduce her to the false vision of his child, but that... that had likely just been something one said to children to reassure them.

But whatever Liem was... he had been the person who had guided her to the light in Horos. And for that, she refused to condemn him, no matter his insistence that in his own world his hands were not clean. Even the level of filth he seems to allude to, when compared to what she had done... Hayame's expression darkens. He says she is a good person, but even if she wanted to believe that...]

... Are you not the one who now speaks in ignorance?

[Her palm is sweaty. Clammy.]

Am I?

[Liem regards her evenly, searching her expression as it grows darker. In contrast to her hand, his own is still cool and dry, clasping hers without reluctance despite the clamminess that threatens to overtake it. After all, no matter how difficult he may find it to take someone's hand, holding one is no hardship. Especially when it's hers.]

I know that since the very first moment we met, you have wanted to atone for the things you've done in your past. That's why you are so determined to return home, is it not?

[This does not sound like the wish of a bad person to him. Liem is so ready to judge himself because regardless of the gentleness he holds in his heart, and regardless of his love for peace, in the end, when he returns home, he intends to go back to devoting himself to a path paved with violence. But from what he knows of Hayame, all she wants is to burn the bridge between her and her old master.]

[She wishes he wasn't looking at her. Her own gaze almost slips away, but she doesn't want to be a coward, either. It wavers, though, in the moment, her grey eyes roiling like storm clouds despite her attempt to be cold. It had once been so easy to be cold and calm.]

Wanting to atone is not the same thing as achieving it.

[He isn't wrong about how determined she is to return home. But she has never said in so many words that she wanted to return only to die. She has never said aloud what it was she had done in her own world that meant she had to die. And she didn't plan on saying it here, or saying it today, but he's here acting like he's the one between them who isn't good and-]

And there are some things that cannot be forgotten, even if death can cleanse the dishonor.

[Her fingers spasm where they are laced with his.]

Does your god forgive those who turn their backs on their own race? Does he forgive those who enslave them and consign them to the fate they themselves would rather die than suffer?

[Even in his effort to convince Hayame that he didn't truly deserve to be called a good man, Liem hadn't been willing to be completely honest with her — about why the priests would never approve of him no matter how human he acted, and why he had been convinced to take on such a soul-staining job for his church when he was still just a young man. Because what use did a vampire's get have in worrying over the purity of his soul? Yet he hadn't spoken of that to her, because while Hayame might forgive him for committing low deeds in his Lord's name…

She is a sensible woman, with a healthy horror of the unnatural. Surely she would not forgive him that.

But although he did not speak it, he does know what it is to be saddled with a mark that cannot be washed away. He understands the struggle of finding a way to keep living in its shadow.]

Hayame…

[He does not relent in his quiet, steady regard of her, of her shame and her turmoil. Gently, he squeezes her hand.]

Forgiveness will not erase what you have done — and you do not need it to be a good person. You are not the property of your old master any longer; it is up to you to decide what to do with that freedom.

Becoming a good person isn't something that happens once you've finally atoned; it's something you need to do on your own first, while you're seeking redemption. And that means that you can be a good person and still be guilty of wrongs.

[How shameful it is, that a squeeze of a hand can almost feel like a comfort. For a moment, Hayame imagines what it might be like to be a woman who is so uncomplicated that this reassurance was all she needed. What would it be like, to be so foolish and gullible as to believe a gentle touch and a quiet, steady voice?

There is a moment when she doesn't say anything. Hayame almost looks away, because the words are bubbling up in her throat but they are so pathetic she can barely stand it and yet-

And yet she cannot help but think of the hundred slights, the hundred insults, the hundred dismissals she has borne since her arrival in Kenos. In Meridian, the place she was supposed to feel surrounded by allies, it sometimes felt as if she were no better off than she would be in Highstorm. When she dared to Communion, she was always shown up, misunderstood, or misinterpreted, and-]

If I am such a good person, how is it that only you think so?

[She'd meant to sound more accusatory.]

Is that true?

[Liem's question carries neither skepticism nor judgement — only open, patient inquiry. He has noticed that Hayame seems hostile with many of those he's seen her speak with in other venues, particularly those that allow Meridian and Zenith to mingle freely. But although her temper does not only show itself in the presence of Meridian's enemies, he had not thought the arguments she had in public were the sum of Hayame's interactions with other people on Kenos. He is still not sure he believes that.]

You said that your brother looked up to you, and he must have known you very well. Better than almost anyone you have known here, surely.

[That may be just one person, but surely there were more, both here and back in her own home. What of the red-haired jinba she had known in her own country, whom he'd seen in those flashes of memory between worlds? What of the centaurs who welcomed her to their gatherings in Alenroux? What of the other shard-bearers she has come to know here — do truly none of them think well of her?]

Those here who would judge you harshly — do you value their insights? Do you always think their opinions of you fair and well-founded?

[Is it true? Hayame does not say it, but the look she flashes Liem then is one that asks him... if it were not true, would she not be outside of this tent, mingling with her fellows like the rest? Would she not be smiling and laughing like an idiot outside with people she was ignorantly proud to call her allies instead of preparing defenses or patrolling the woodland? Would they not be gathered around her, like how they flocked to her enemies and fawned over them despite their foul ways?

She had done her part, and still... Still she felt this way. And surely that was not by fault of her own.]

What those of my world think of me means nothing here.

[She is not comforted in her darkness by thinking of Yubari. Of Matsukaze. Instead, she was tormented.]

And whether I value the opinion of those I despise matters not either. Others value them, and whether they are fair or not the one with the silver tongue will always be believed-

[Her hold on his hand becomes unpleasantly tight without her noticing, her brow furrowing with pent-up rage... and certain incidents bubbling to the forefront of her mind, dark and lurking in the corners of their communion-like touch.]

[The grievances that Hayame voices now sound more like laments about her reputation than doubts about her own character. He would have thought the judgements of others of her own culture more meaningful to her than the opinions of two-legged folk from alien worlds — but perhaps it is a lack of understanding from her peers that truly drives Hayame to withdraw from them, rather than doubts about her worthiness as a person.

He doesn't comment on the tightening grip of her hand, even when it becomes painfully strong. Instead, he simply places his other hand overtop their joined ones.]

Being clever-tongued is not the same as being right — and I am surely not the only other person in Meridian to know that.

[Many criminals lure in their victims with charisma in order to get what they want. It's true in his world, it's true in this one, and it's probably true in most if not all others. Even if Hayame has difficulty connecting with the fellow members of her faction, Liem refuses to believe that none of them like her, or that all of them would trust the likes of Sebastian the Demon over her.]

Your strength and dedication and bravery speak for themselves. Don't think I haven't noticed the work you've put in to supporting this occupation, or how staunch you were in making sure Manon made it safely back to Springstar. You've done good work, for Meridian and for everyone who wants to one day go back home.

[In Hayame's world... reputation was character, in a way. The tightly-bound society from which she had come put so much emphasis on one's honor before everything else, and that honor was formed in part by what was said about a person and their nature. Duels and wars had been fought for centuries over insulted pride and insinuations of dishonorable conduct, and yet she... She is supposed to just swallow poor treatment at the hands of her fellow so-called allies, to turn a deaf ear to slander, to let others belittle her accomplishments or fail to note them entirely--

At least, that is how it feels to her. A woman who, in her own life, had owned nothing- not her own body, not even her own actions. The only thing she'd had was reputation, tainted as it was.

And yet, Liem places another hand on hers. So easily. Just as simply, he provides the praise and validation she has largely gone without, and in the face of it... Hayame is shamed. Her cheeks grow warm as she lays there in silence, and finally... she has to turn her face away, mumbling under her breath,]

At least you seem to have clear eyes.

[She had imagined, once, that doing those sorts of things would be enough. That to be accepted among allies, to have allies, would mean simply succeeding to earn their regard. She had done great deeds, she had served loyally... and yet, through their touch, and the connection born of the cleansing... there is a hint of the deep, twisted sense of persecution she feels.

But that wasn't- This wasn't what she had intended when she had taken Liem's hand. It was supposed to be...]

- Are you feeling better?

[Her fingers spasm between his. They're slightly sweaty.]

[As they sit with their hands joined and the closeness of Purification between them, Liem feels something as Hayame glances away from his regard: some dark, simmering feeling behind the quiet of their conversation, making him frown slightly as he looks up at her. This world has seemed kinder to Hayame than the one in which they'd met, but perhaps she is still struggling more to make her way in it than he'd supposed. He well knows how demoralizing it can be to be rejected by those who ostensibly should have included him within their number.

But she has asked a question. Liem considers it for a moment, contemplating the well of Meridian energy that lives at the centre of his chest, where his shard sits — just as hers does. The energy emanating from it feels clear, the shard itself no longer thrumming with feverish warmth.]

I feel better.

[He thinks for a moment more, considering the damp fingers linked with his and the warm tinge colouring Hayame's cheeks. He considers, too, the festivities outside that they've been spurning, only slightly muffled by the drape of canvas sheltering them.]

Thank you for listening to me, Hayame. And for speaking with me.

[He still wishes he might have escaped admitting to her any of what he'd said, but she'd shared something of her own because of it — something he's glad to have had the opportunity to talk with her about. It seems impossible that she could feel the same way about him, but even if she doesn't, perhaps some good has still come of their talk.]

You do not need to thank me.

[It is shameful that she feels something just to be told that. Thank you. How pathetic she truly has become here, that just the acknowledgement of being sincerely thanked would move her- a woman who was supposed to be a warrior, cold and untouchable. But Liem, ever since the first time they had met in the space between worlds... There was a connection there that simply did not, and perhaps could not, exist elsewhere.

That is what she will blame for this.

But even though it was good that he was feeling less suffering from Discord, and that should be enough for her to snatch her hand back... the lewd act was already done. Already happening. And they are alone. If they break... she will have no further excuse to avoid the rest of the gathering beyond straight fleeing, and she cannot do that either. Her fingers spasm slightly, her hold becomes unconsciously tighter, and finally-]

... We should remain in place a bit longer, to make sure that it takes.

[It comes out in a low, embarrassed mumble. Hopefully he cannot tell beneath his hand how unsteady it feels that both her hearts beat.]

I know.

[Liem says simply, when Hayame tells him that she doesn't require his thanks. He knows, of course, that he doesn't need to thank her for purifying his Discord, for speaking with him, for calling him a good man, for holding his hand. He knew this when he said it, but it didn't stop him, because he appreciates that she is here, and because he does not know who he would turn to if she was not.

So he doesn't let go of her hand, at least right away. And when her fingers twitch tighter, when her grip on his hand only grows more firm despite his assurance that she had already given him the assistance he needed, he takes a slow breath, and forces some of the tension from his shoulders, from his spine. It should be all right for him to just sit here with Hayame for a while longer, while they both find some peace from the gathering going on outside.]

Just for a short while, [he agrees. Maybe he still has some lingering traces of Discord left. They should probably wait a little more, just to be safe.

And if Hayame's hand continues to warm his in the process, that's good too. Even if he doesn't say as much.]

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open | a merry meri mingle

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