nexus_sages | Samhain Ball Redux - Second Star to the Right

Something flits through the skies of the Nexus, bobbing and swooping only to climb again, an ecstatic aerial dance. At last, mirth of the moment giving way to some other whim, the flying figure drifts groundward, turning and drifting like a falling leaf until his feet, clad in pointed-toed green suede moccasins alight. Forest green tights hug lean legs all the way up to a bright green tunic, belted with rich brown leather and a bright brass buckle. On his left hip hang a set of pan pipes; on his right, a black-handled knife. An impish grin curls his lips, his eyes sparkle with the promise of mischief, and a pert green cap sits atop his head, crowned by a lone red feather. Could this be the black-suited GQ cover model who makes himself ubiquitous in the better-traveled spaces of the Nexus? Could it be Schön?

It is. "People of the Nexus, friends, in the world from which I hail we stand on the cusp of a special day, a harvest-fest when the walls between worlds grow thin, when masks and costumes are worn to frighten away wicked spirits--or to invite them in on more congenial terms. Today we bid Summer adieu, and raise fire and song to meet the long night! Join me, for an evening to last a lifetime, and a farewell to a season well-loved." His hand rises, pointing to where two bright beacons blaze in the churn of the Nexus' heavens. "Second star to the right, and we'll keep on 'til morning!" Crowing with laughter, he soars for that distant point like an arrow, leaving a trail of sparkling, glittering motes of light for anyone interested to follow.

Perched on the border between the parklands and the residential district, the night sky is like a pillow of iridescent black velvet, on which have been scattered an embarrassment of diamonds. Like an enormous pumpkin, a harvest moon presides over the shimmering vista, orange and plump. The air is cool and crisp, punctuated by the crackling hiss of dry leaves in motion every time a breeze picks up.

At the center of it all sits a stately house of Gothic style, ivy-clad and waiting. A square tower stands vigil over the entryway, tall windows overlooking the flagstone drive looping around a fountain full of water as blue and bright as a tropical sea. In the fountain stands an island, and if one peers closely enough, one might imagine they see figures moving about--on the deck of the tiny ship anchored in a cove, or swimming and splashing in a lagoon, or even creeping through the wooded interior. Of the house, the windows of the wings seem dark, perhaps waiting, but the line of the roof is limned with some glow from beyond, and the faint throb of distant music promises that the evening holds more than surfaces. The door stands open, a silent invitation to every brave soul who passes by.

((Happy Halloween! Enjoy the festivities, threadhopping is encouraged, tag back whenever you have time, and don't worry about missing out--we'll still be here when you get back.))
YouTube Playlist
Visualosity
Entrance
Ballroom
Banquet
Bonfire
Dark Corners

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"It is an admirable trait, to want to keep ones comrades alive during battle. But most battles only mean sacrifice."

Oh, I know what battles mean.

*That the other woman is philosophizing on warfare does pique her curiosity.*

Is that experience talking? Are you a fighter of some kind, yourself?

"I have been many things to face many different challenges. One must become the warrior, when you must defend your home."

Do tell.

*Samus gestures promptingly with her cup before taking a sip.*

Kendra tilts her head, staring into the fire with quiet consideration for a moment.

"It was threatened many times. There are many sorrows that weigh heavily."

I was asking what it was like, but if you want to talk about the threats...

*Samus takes a sip of cider, reining in any (more) sharp remarks.*

"Not tonight. Not when Samhain could bring such memories back, in dangerous ways."

*Samus gives the woman a sidelong look for a moment. She sought out a conversation, not an interrogation, but getting answers out of the autumn fairy has a great deal in common with pulling teeth.*

Well, if you don't want to talk...

*She moves to get up. Either the woman will open up, or she can go explore other parts of the party.*

Kendra raises her head, when Samus moves to get up. "It is not that I don't want to talk. It is only that tonight, there are some conversations that should not take place. No disrespect to you."

None taken. I asked about your home, and instead you told me about terrors you can't discuss.

*She gives the other woman a measuring once-over.*

You don't have many conversations, do you?

"No. I do not. I do not have many friends." Kendra responds softly.

Well. I've been there.

*She settles back again.*

Why don't you talk about something you can discuss, then. I did ask about where you're from, if that's not on the list.

"I once belonged to Hyperborea, beyond the North Wind. The poets claimed that neither by ship nor on foot would you find the marvellous road to the assembly of the Hyperboreans."

"Now I live in New York City. Where many roads merge together to form one large common ground for many cultures and many people."

So, it was somewhat lacking, as roads go.

*Mention of New York gets another long sip from her drink.*

Earth. It's always an Earth.

Kendra tilts her head in interest. "Your home is a different planet?"

I grew up on a planet called Zebes. I don't think you can even see its star from Earth. It was beautiful, in its way--stormy, most of the time, but sometimes the sky would clear, and you could see the stars.

"Hyperborea was a land of sunshine. We only saw the moon and the stars once every 19 years. But we didn't need to see them to know that they were there. The muses spoke great tales of life beyond the island, beyond the sky."

*Samus' brow furrows for a moment, mentally crunching orbits, rotations, and geography, before she reaches a conclusion.*

Earth and magic.

*Allowing for magic lets her reconsider what some of the rest means.*

A flying island? That sounds nice.

"Let me clarify, Hyberborea was a continent-bound land. It was bordered on the north by the great, earth-encircling river Okeanos, and on the south the peaks of the legendary Rhipaion Mountains."

"It existed in great beauty when people believed in magic, we were always blessed with eternal spring. None could find us, for we were protected by the Sun."

Kendra debated her words for a moment. "Times changed and when people were finding new things to have faith in, our land felt the effects. Most people who I interact with now... do not believe in magic anymore."

Everything falls, in its time--which isn't to say that we don't miss it. The Chozo built wonders in their time, and now they're barely a memory outside of me.

"It is a lonely life, being the one one left."

It is.

*She drains her cider and sets the cup down hard enough to clink, swallowing something bitter along with the sweet apple-nectar.*

But. There's a very important difference between extinction... and being the last.

Kendra is not very good with social interaction. She simply does not know the best way to offer support.

"There are some who have Hyberborean blood in their ancestry, even if they do not realize it. I try to find them and guide them to accept the magic within."

The last of the old is the first of the new.

*She gives a slight nod.*

I'd argue that what defines your people isn't in their blood or their genetics, but their philosophy, but I'll admit there could be some magic thing I don't know about which says it is.

"I have found that most people have trouble accepting magic as part of their philosophy these days."

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