taxfest log | open

[sterngaze]

Who: Alenroux residents and visitors!
What: It's Taxfest: an Abadaran holy day celebrating the local community on the day taxes are collected
Where: The settlement in Alenroux
When: Mid April (Pelu)
Warnings: None expected (Warn as appropriate in headers!)

A HOLY DAY FOR TAXES

Every spring, after last year’s profits have been tallied and Alenroux’s snowy winter has melted away, the time comes for the local citizens to bequeath a portion of their earnings back to the growing little town; it’s tax season.

Over the past century, a tradition has grown in the quaint little settlement, influenced by the local church of Abadar: the holy celebration of Taxfest. On this special day, citizens celebrate the town, each other, and the future they hope to build together. It is a day for business, but also for contemplation, as priests cite the public works the citizens’ past contributions have funded and speak on those planned in coming years.

The business of the day is conducted in person. Rather than mailing cheques, residents hand theirs directly to collectors who go door to door all throughout the day, each accompanied by one of the temple priests or acolytes, who observe to ensure the proceedings are respectful and just. Abadar’s clergy thank each citizen for their contributions, offer comfort to the poor, and hear any concerns or suggestions about how the money should be best used.

Throughout the day, tax collectors from the town can be seen accompanied by white-robed acolytes, or priests in yellow-trimmed raiment. Aside from these busy individuals, most of the town’s folk spend their day on leisure, having earned a respite from the last year’s labours.

EVENING AFTERNOON FESTIVITIES

Traditionally, the festivities of Taxfest would begin with sunset. Due to Alenroux’s 48-hour day–night cycles, however, business is typically concluded well before noon, and the day’s celebrations begin when the sun is still high in the sky. Just as the morning had been dedicated to reflection on the year’s efforts, so the rest of the day is spent in celebration. Local tradition dictates that partying hard on Taxfest both honours the work of the past year and brings good luck in the one to come, so locals and visitors alike are encouraged to let their hair down and enjoy themselves thoroughly.

Throughout the town, entertainment and refreshments are on offer, organized by the Abadar’s temple and provided by local businesses. Offerings vary by neighbourhood, and over the years different parts of town have become a little competitive over who can throw the best festival celebration. Priests officially begin the festivities with a brief dedication to Abadar, to Alenroux’s town and to its people, and the rest of the day is devoted solely to merriment.

On the town’s eastern side, a spacious park hosts a cheerful, whirling mass of dancers in groups or in pairs, dancing to the tunes of talented musicians from around town. Food and drink stalls line the perimeter, luring people from their revels with sweet and savoury scents.

One of the stalls, selling little sweet buns with coins stamped on them, swears it’s good luck to find someone bearing a coloured token matching one you find inside your own bun. (Not all the buns have tokens, of course, so better buy a few!) Those with matching tokens will feel more trust and closeness with their matched person for the rest of the festival.

A broad plaza on the town’s west side sports a slightly more carnival air, with entertainers and game stalls taking up much of the available space, some offering rather strange prizes. One of the games, involving a spinning wheel covered with paper balloons, advertises a free drink at the associated tavern for anyone who can hit five balloons without hitting any “bad” ones. Bad balloons will burst in a puff of coloured smoke, causing a minor magic effect lasting for the next hour:

• Higher or lower voice
• Slight intoxication
• Ability to blow smoke or bubbles
• Small objects you hold float away (for a while) if released
• Small objects you touch stick to you as though magnetic
• Other harmless, temporary effects (Pick your own!)

In front of Abadar’s church, the clergy themselves host a cheerful (if quite obviously religious) celebration with tables of food and a hearty ration of wine for everyone in attendance. This year, it seems the clergy member to bless the wine was over-zealous, as partaking may instill feelings of contemplation even in those disinclined to melancholy. Hymns to Abadar are sung, and everyone who attends is given a token for an extra wine ration, which can be traded in by those who attend a church service within the next month.

Comments

[sterngaze]

[Even beneath the dappled shade of the broad, spreading tree, the added shadow of Rudbeckia’s wing is far from unwelcome when she comes to stand next to Liem. He glances up at her, his hand falling as his reverie is interrupted, and takes in her appearance with some surprise. Somehow he hadn’t realized big, feathery wings could be a symptom of discord.]

Oh—my lady. Hello.

[The smile he offers up at her is wry and a little cautious. He’s seen Rudbeckia refer to Set as her husband, and while it’s not as though this would be Liem’s first time being intimate with a married man, generally he prefers to make sure everybody’s on the same page first. Given that he would optimistically describe his relationship with Rudbeckia as “politely cordial,” this topic inevitably feels a bit awkward to him.]

He expressed his displeasure immediately, actually. Perhaps you are right; I have been told unflattering things about the way it makes me look.

[Liem seems amused, if a bit rueful, as he confesses this. His beard is quite noticeably more silvered than his hair, and he still hasn’t forgotten the time Hayame said it made him look like “an ageing barbarian.” Brutal…]

Are you enjoying the festival? You seemed a bit cross, earlier.

[When she’d made that communion, he means.]

[appeale]

[ a bit cross. it's such a diplomatic way of phrasing the change in her personality that she laughs unexpectedly; the sound is still clear as birdsong, the way it always has been, but somehow, all warmth is gone from it. something about her bitter, tired smile seems more genuine than any expression she's shown before. ]

I'm just an unpleasant person. [ it's a light and airy statement, which she moves on from with casual disregard to answer his question: ] The festival seems lovely, though I haven't been taking part myself.

[ she's never been the type who can throw herself into fun in order to forget her own misery. the best she can do is grit her teeth and endure it, but it never leaves her, and she can't pretend otherwise. she can act the part, perform for others; if she isn't putting on a show, though, what's the point in pretending to feel it? she'll only do what she wants to do, now. and because she is an empty corpse of a girl, what she wants is... nothing.

none of that is Liem's concern. she turns her gaze back out towards the festival. ]

And you? I'm surprised they haven't dragged you up to give a speech.

[sterngaze]

[Perhaps Rudbeckia’s mental and emotional state should be none of Liem’s concern, but he’s unable to completely ignore the change in her manner compared to how she’d seemed prior to disappearing back to her world. Tact requires him to pretend not to notice, because she seems not to wish to dwell on it, but the difference compared to the pleasant demeanour he’d seen her wear before is plain to him.]

Oh? That seems subjective. Clearly Set finds much about you to love.

[This is entirely inference on Liem’s part, though he feels confident in his conclusion. He cannot imagine the god agreeing to be the “husband” of a woman he did not love, and he is not shy about admitting his connection to her—claiming her as his own.

Looking away from her, Liem follows her gaze with his own, taking in the banquet tables and milling, celebrating people. It’s a tamer scene than some other parts of town, to be sure, but nonetheless a cheerful one. And, at the moment, it’s more cheer than Liem feels inclined to partake in.]

Don’t worry—I already gave a speech today, back when the festivities started. And in any case, the clergy are obliged to lean on breviloquence more during Taxfest than on other days. Festivals aren’t meant to be boring.

[appeale]

[ if Liem's words are meant to reassure, or are otherwise intended as a gesture of kindness, they apparently miss the mark by a significant margin – the sting that Rudbeckia feels in response is so sharp that he can feel it in Communion even without a shared Aspect. the sentiment hurts, deeply. Set finds much about her to love? that's not something that should be praised about her, it's something Set should be pitied for. all she's done is fooled another person into letting her close.

but she says nothing. she ignores Liem's words entirely, as though it never happened. ]

Even festivals about taxes? [ she's joking. no, she doesn't find taxes anything to celebrate, but most religious occasions aren't based around fun concepts, and plenty of them involve collecting money. ] Well, it does feel a lot like the festivals that were held in the Vatican, so they've done well for themselves.

[ she pauses. ]

Wait, you aren't from Earth, right? [ it's hard to remember what some Shard-Bearers are familiar with. ] The Vatican is a holy city. It's the capital of the Church's sovereign territory. So, we had a lot of religious festivals like this. That's what I meant.

[sterngaze]

[Of all the possible reactions Rudbeckia might have to Liem’s observation, this one strikes him the most immediately, the most obviously as a sign that she does truly care for Set—because he is well familiar with the horror of being loved, and he has only ever felt it for people he wanted to be safely far, far from him. Only, he cannot imagine what curse a woman like Rudbeckia bears, that she would fear to inflict it even on a god like Set.

It’s a strange thought. He lets it pass, as she so obviously would prefer.]

Is that right? They must have been much grander than this, then.

[Even considering the impressive transformation Alenroux has undergone over the last century, the little town is still far, far more humble than Liem’s own home city. He imagines that the Vatican must be similarly large, for Rudbeckia to describe it the way she does.

He is interested, though. Just the concept of a Church holding sovereign territory fascinates him; he wonders what kind of god controls it. The most well-known examples he can think of from his own world are not particularly well-liked.]

I didn’t realize you hailed from such a place. My own city had many old and beautiful temples, but the territory itself belonged to the crown. I have never visited a holy land.

[appeale]

[ it's always strange to talk about this kind of history as though she's a product of it, as though she didn't spend most of her life in the age of skyscrapers and smart devices. while the novel was certainly based on the real history of Italy, she never studied that history in so much detail; there's a distance between her and the world that Rudbeckia de Borgia belongs to. but after three years, and whatever scraps of the real Ruby's memories remain in her, she supposes it's shaped her enough, too. ]

Mhm. It's not common everywhere... but in Romagna, at least, the head of the church – the Pope – controls everything. He was involved in politics and matters of the state. We had a military as well as a clergy. Territories would be gifted to the church by other rulers, just to garner favour.

[ she'd stayed standing this long under the assumption that Liem wouldn't be particularly interested in holding a conversation with her, but – if they're going to talk, then she may as well sit with him. she's careful not to clip him with her wings when they shift to keep her balance, feathers ruffling, as she takes a seat beside him on the beach; and then she tucks most of them in close, out of the way.

one wing remains outstretched overhead, shading Liem still. ]

As the Pope's daughter, people called me a princess, too. So, in the end, it might as well have just been a kingdom. But... you know. "A kingdom sanctioned by God."

[ there's a wry tone to those words. ]

[sterngaze]

[Although Liem is the sort of man to sit down on one side of a bench rather than park himself right in the middle, he still shifts over slightly as Rudbeckia moves to seat herself, conscious of her feathery wings. They seem a little cumbersome to manage; he wonders briefly if she had to have new clothes made to accommodate the limbs, or if she had existing garments altered. He can’t help but think that having wings on his own back would ruin the silhouette of his suits—not that he wears them so often anymore.

Rudbeckia’s wry tone as she speaks of her home country does not escape him. It certainly does not seem to him that the young lady harbours many fond memories of her home, no matter how prettily she speaks of it.]

I hope it was a good god.

[His own tone is light; he doesn’t expect her to expound upon her country’s dominant faith, if she has no wish to volunteer that information.]

The attention of a deity can bring difficulties of its own.

[He doesn’t mean having to field a chaos god showing up unannounced and pawing through his things, though that certainly is a thing Liem has to deal with these days.]

You are kind, by the way, to offer me shade—but please feel free to rest your wing if it’s getting tired. This spot is pleasant enough, thanks to the tree.