nexus_sages | Samhain Ball Redux - Second Star to the Right

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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

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Love into love into love. That a wonderful way to live. It'll keep her floating forever, with or without the pixie dust. Even when her feet are on the ground, she's lighter now, less weighed down. That's a power the Kitchen would do well to learn.

Yes, if Bobbi's pixie dust doesn't wear off before the end of the night, they'd be in trouble. Maybe a good wash will help. It's not hard to follow the pupper, swishing tail and happy barks and all.

The dress doesn't get in the way of much. No more than other outfits. The wings, well, he'll have to work around those. There's room for his arms to slip beneath. It's a glorious kiss and leaves her momentarily breathless and permanently happy. "Are pixies and angels very much alike? You're the expert on all things religious."

They'll keep their hearts flying. That hasn't ever stopped since they started. Little thrills and surprises make it a roller-coaster ride. As if their life didn't have enough excitement as it is!

For now, someone really should capture a picture of them. A flying monkey, a flying man and a pretty pixie. Samhain Ball is the gift that keeps on giving. Matt already felt a swell of appreciation for the occasion. This is how they met. And now a whole year behind them and so many ahead, his smile brightens again. How did he get so lucky?

"Well... Winged creatures. I think you're still a little on the devil side being a spirit of nature. One blessing away, I think." Matt always enjoys the sound of her voice, especially moments like now when she's happy. Being in the air separates them from the crowd and the sound.

Their lives are more of a roller coaster than anything on Coney Island. More loving and with better landings, too. They'll always be ready to catch each other.

This would be a great time for someone to start snapping pics. Pity they could never post any of this on FaceSpace. It's a small price to pay for so much joy. One whole year. Almost a year from when things had a proper start. A few of the bright spots in her memory of the time. She's still got the silk dress she wore last year. Maybe she'll put it on later, for fun.

"Mm, not little," she whispers. It's a good thing nobody else can hear her. "But I have a blessing, honey. I have you." She could keep talking, but the moment demands a kissing interlude right here. "What more could I need?"

This kind of action, who needs season passes to any theme park? No lines, best seats, best everything.

FaceSpace is overrated. Matt will gladly tell Foggy about the wonderful time. (That is if he doesn't show up himself.) And Just having a private snap or two mean the world to Variety later. Mat will be sure to seek out someone with a camera before they miss the opportunity. How often can someone snap a picture of them flying? And on this day of all days. It's something he won't ever forget. A picture would be nice though for her to have and to describe to him if she's ever so inclined.

Matt laughs softly at her corrections. It only makes him hold her closer and press another kiss to her face. There's gonna be a lot of that. Just as well they're removed from the throng. "I'm not sure... the minute you think of it, tell me though. We'll work out the rest." Because this feels like heaven to a devil like him. Always does when they're together.

No lines now, but the wait for admission was pretty long. They'll have to make up for that somehow.

She's found so many uses in social media. It's been a good way to stay nominally connected to people without having to actually have anything to do with them. Matt just can't enjoy it the way she does, and that's okay. A private picture would mean the world to her. She loves being able to look back on these good times. She'll happily spend their evenings cuddling after dinner describing her photo collection to him. He features prominently.

Perfect reaction. Just what she was looking for. Being pulled closer inspires her to press closer in turn. They may not be crushed by a crowd, but they're going to crush her dress at this rate. She doesn't care. The kiss is returned with a happy sigh. "I know. I will." Anything she needs, they'll work together to find it. That's how marriage is supposed to work. "A dance?"

She is a member for life now. And the vows only seal the deal. All the thrills she could handle or ever want.

Sometimes not having to enjoy the social media the way others do is less of a worry on him. Public opinion about vigilantes, lawyers, Hell's Kitchen well being and whether or not he's smiling in pictures (with Verity he's always smiling) are things he can go on not thinking too much about until necessary. Their private photograph collection is best enjoyed on the couch or in bed, curled up warm and tight with her voice painting the pictures in his head of moments past.

And moments like now? They deserve to be lived up to their maximum. What's a pressed dress in comparison to how they'll look back on it? He forgets anyway because it's so lovely to have her in his embrace. Being in the air is something he never expected to enjoy. "Oh yes, please." A dance and another, and another. He'll try not to fill up her card. And the comedy of the moment is that even if he was about to be a doofus and play blind, there's no way he'd bump into anyone but Groot this high up.

She wouldn't call herself much of a thrill-seeker, but life with him is unquestionably thrilling. Happy beyond any measure she expected to ever know, even when they're risking life and limb, she must be a thrill-seeker after all.

He'll never get caught up in the political nastiness, it's true. She can read the funny tweets to him, and describe the better sorts of memes. They don't need to talk about their image in the press unless he wants to. The private pictures, the ones painted in their minds, are the best sort. Any memories shared or made when they're curled up warm with each other are to be cherished.

The dress doesn't matter. Green isn't her color and she doubts she'll ever wear it again. She doesn't even care if people start to talk about how it happened. Why would she be ashamed of the affections he shows her? He's wonderful. Even if he wants to play the bumbling blind man, no other partner pleases her so well. Sorry, Groot. "Please? Hmm, I should take you to more balls."

The thrills make settling down and settling in even more enjoyable if absolutely nothing else. Verity has proven time and again that she can most certainly rise to the challenge. And Matt? He has made it a point to be less careless, less foolhardy. It's hard to go home all busted up. Body armor can only do so many things.

They are two birds on the wing with no armor or big cares in the world. Matt doesn't mind his own outfit--canary yellow--getting wrinkled or ruffled. Foggy tried to tell him that he made the color work somehow. It just feels inexplicably different. Lady in green, gent in gold... the both of them are a sight. Matt will be interested to hear about all the details later. For now he takes her hand and puts an arm about her waist.

"So I can be extra, extra polite?"

Settling down and in, but she hopes he'll never admit how much he's settling for her. She'll always do her best to rise to his challenge. If she can be a protective influence, too, all the better. Neither of them enjoy the nights where he's battered and bloody and she's lecturing him at the staccato pace left in between breathing and magic.

Two birds with no cage, free to go where they will. Never flying too far from the other. She loves him like crazy, but nobody would mind that outfit getting ruined. Even he can't entirely pull it off. It just means she's looking forward to getting him out of it later all the more. Hand in hand, her fingers curl around his palm, her thumb caressing the flesh below his. A hand on his shoulder, curled as intimately as the one on her waist. "Yes. You are shockingly rude to me, Matthew Murdock," and he should be able to pick up from her tone about now that she's teasing, "and I shouldn't let you get away with being so demanding."

Never that manner of settling. Oh not by a long shot. Matt is more in the mode of roosting to stay. She isn't like any other person he's ever known. And now that he has, to be without her would be unthinkable. Yes, he is independent and self sufficient, but he has found something special with her. Something that wasn't there with any other before. It's worth any kind of scolding.

This much yellow only looks good as a sundress in the most polite of assessments. And so they fall into step with the music, dancing on the air as they would on the ground. Her teasing always makes him laugh. "Oh no, then this means I'm going to be punished if I misbehave from here on out? Is that it?" Matt squeezes her close if only to hear a squeak. It's hard to be threatening if you squeak, Verity.

Nesting, she'd call it. The setting about preparing a place to be home. Something they should be doing together. Pity she can't leave him all the Swedish DIY to put together while she shops for curtains. Another gendered stereotype foiled.

Dancing on air is divine, even if she's dancing with a banana. Bananas are good! Every dance with Matt reminds her where she belongs. Rhythm, pattern, and partnership all come together in these moments. And teasing, too. He gets that squeak he was hoping for, and then she's blushing, but she tries to recover. "Yes. I might refuse to kiss you for a whole ten minutes."

Preparing a home to suit they life they have together. Yes, that is far more like it. They may have to splurge and have the Swedish DIY models already constructed and delivered. Or... set a side a lot of time for Matt to figure it all out with a reader. Good thing his livelihood doesn't depend on it. Verity can still pick the curtains or anything she likes.

Thankfully it's just a banana color and not the complete shape. Bananas are good, to be a banana perhaps not quite so great. The smile on his face is about as bright as he is. "Ten minutes!" his eyebrows lift in shock. That smile falters a little. "I--I don't know if I can handle ten. I must have really done something wrong." Teasing still, the thought of not kissing her for any amount of time is heavier than he thought.

Or she can do it and he can help pick the furnishings. He's got a better hand for judging things. It'll work out. They'll always make it work out.

Banana-shaped bananas would not be the best dance partner for her. They might be very good at dancing by themselves. She'd still rather have Matt. "Mm-hmm. Ten whole minutes."

Wait. "I dunno if I can hold out for that long," she admits. "Maybe instead you can't kiss me for ten minutes."

They're a modern couple! They could switch it up. Verity would certainly have to come along and steer him to the right colors. They really don't want this kind of yellow in their lives more than necessary.

She's his top banana. And visa versa. Oi, he wishes now he thought to say that out loud. Maybe it'll cross his mind again. Matt's too enchanted with the moment, too enthralled with the sound of her laugh and the way her voice changes when she smiles. His heart beat has kicked up with Verity's. Together they move the whole air their dance floor and not a person to bump into as far as he can tell.

He's trying to pout, honestly. A whole ten minutes! The change has the pursed nature of his lips change in almost an instant. "Oh dear..." that's not at all real disappointment or even distress. Verity is pulled into a dramatic dip. "I'll have to behave or else it could be fifteen or twenty!"

Oh, she'll be there. It'll be a joint effort. Truly modern.

That would have been a good one. Maybe he'll remember later so they can both have a giggle at how corny he is. Not enough to scare her off, but enough to get teased about it. It's all more excuses for laughter and joy. Dancing alone above the crowd, so in sync without even trying, is the sort of miracle she couldn't have dreamt of a year ago.

"Oh!" Surprise dip! Verity relaxes with a long breath out, trusting his hold on her (and it's not like she can fall right now!). "Yes, obviously, it's very important to behave." When he lets her up again she gives him a kiss, drawing back before he can react. "Every time you're naughty you're depriving me of kisses. How is that fair?"

The end result is going to be a real treat to the senses. All of the senses.

This could have been a dream. Matt's are strange. Though he's sure that his imagination could never capture just how wonderful she is here and now. The sound of her laugh, the warmth of her body and the smell all spelling out the same lovely lady here in his arms is far better than any figment of the mind. Besides, in his dreams he's never given the opportunity to be corny. If it means making her bust up it is time and effort well spent. And Verity Willis is never frightened off by terrible puns or jokes. She's had her chance.

Any which way they go, he'll be there to hold her tight. (Even if she could fall, perish the thought!) "I can behave. No horns here." Though his smile is decidedly rakish. Good thing she's going to kiss his face and make it more respectable in an instant. It's enough to make him feel like he's the one being dipped. "I don't like to deprive you." Or himself.

All of them? What a dizzyingly tall order. What would even be a treat for someone's sense of discretion, sense of timing, common sense?

No dream was ever this good. Hers certainly aren't. This is real. Wonderfully, proveably real. It's a poorly-kept secret that her sense of humor is kinda terrible; she loves the corny jokes and bad puns. He should be careful using them, though: she might try to outdo him. Is he prepared for that much sass in his life?

"Mm-hmm." She knows precisely how true that is. That rakish smile needed kissing, but it's almost a shame to see it go. The fact he's such a good man and still such a bad boy is one of her favorite traits about him. And if the kiss makes him feel a little dizzy, she's holding him tight. "I know. You're much too nice to make me sad on purpose."

All of the senses of perception might be a bit more obtainable. A sense of discretion, well they're very much in love and keeping the warmest of it's heat for themselves at another time (sense of timing there...) And common sense? How much of love involves common sense truly in the end? It has it's madness and it's logic.

Even dreams are nonsensical. Reality is where it's at for them. Matt never would have expected. Then again, he's the one of the pair that enjoys a surprise now and again. Sass he welcomes. His own sassy ways mesh with her's. She is the true sass master. Which is such a surprise because he also finds her to be so, so sweet.

"Making you sad on purpose? What a thought." And that isn't with a hint of teasing. Matt strokes her cheek and continues to hold her close, brilliant shimmering greens to garish banana yellow.

Well, two outta three ain't bad. Everyone else seems to get along without common sense, so they'll be fine without it too, surely. There's too much madness in their lives for anything to be common or make sense.

But does he like sassy surprises? Because those become more and more likely the more he surprises her with things. (Was that part of the plan? She suspects it's part of the plan.) She's only sweet on the inside, behind all kinds of bitter and sour layers. The reward for his patience.

"Mmm, terrible thought," she murmurs, turning her head so she can kiss his palm. "And we're supposed to only be thinking happy thoughts." What a pair they make. Easy to spot, in these ridiculous costumes.

Other senses they can appease later. Now is the time for revelry! Dancing, dining and enjoying the moment. That's just the right kind of madness for them. Look how social the two of them are outside of the little circle of Nelson and Murdock with Samus and her ever challenging training.

Sassy surprises? He'll need more of those to say one way or the other. Verity is a sophisticated, intelligent woman. She is going to be exactly how she is. All the layers are revealed to him with trust. And he is going to proceed with care and patience as he always has. Matt is a sweet man with his own rough edges and less than lovely moments too. Anger, hurt and he is not going to hide these feelings from her nor unleash them on her unjustly. They just...happen sometimes. Rest assured that Verity has never been a person to be angry with or hurt by, not intentionally. One more thing to love about her. It's a very, very long list. One he's willing to keep researching until the end of his days.

Being his favorite dance partner was on the list quite some time ago. Right now he's reminded by the way they make their way over the air.

"You're at least ten of my happy thoughts right now." Which is why he's still airborne. "Uh... how long does this last, Tink?" Not that he's stopping.

Sounds like they'll be needing their senses of humor and fun. Hope they didn't leave those in their other costumes! They can be social when they want to be. But there are circles, some people kept closer than others. He has his and she has hers, and in places they overlap. He might do well to remember that he isn't actually the sun around which she orbits; his life has not entirely consumed her.

They have their moods, and sometimes are angry for no good reason and at the wrong people. They're learning how to mend those little hurts. It's one of those things every couple needs to practice. She's coming to know his moods better; his anger isn't so much of a surprise. It's frightening and beautiful, like a tiger stalking close.

"Hmm, ten? That's a good start." She'll give him another kiss to add to the list. "Oh... I don't actually know." Her tone and her careless shrug make it clear that, for tonight, she's not worried.

Those are woven into more than just fabric. It's in his head, in his smile and her's (even though he can't see it). Their orbits cross at all the right points. They dance and sway in a mobile or carousel of interworkings. Always moving. That's them. Matt is glad for her presence, for her...everything. And on and on it all spins. His world has existed before her and it's only brightened and perked in her light and warmth.

The no-good-reason kind are spacing out far more than they used to. Less stress on both job fronts. Still worry and his own bullheadedness cause trouble now and again. They practice together. Her own moods can be stormy. Not a soul could or would blame her. Matt's never minded the rain. He can either be a lightning rod or hold an umbrella.

"Probably more than ten," he has a smile after such a kiss. Though his brows knit just a little. "...Okay. Well, no rush." Not for now. And he means it. For tonight they can float and fly with their little... uh oh. Matt turns his head in Bobbi's direction. Okay. She's still there.

Orbits crossing, ships passing in the night... how sad it would be if that were all they had. They're binary stars, balancing each other and shining as one. Some of the fluctuations in their orbits still need ironing out. Stars have all the time in the world.

Less stress and more joy have helped them weather storms that would have eroded their shores before. No need for him to volunteer as a lightning rod, plenty of other people do that nightly. Their night work has its perks.

Bobbi's nearby, good girl that she is, doggypaddling through the air in an attempt to keep up with the dancing. There's so much swirling sparkling food-sniffs and people-sniffs! She's too overwhelmed with options to go far.

That lovely smile of his gets another little kiss before the teasing stars. "Maybe a dozen?"

She is his twin star. The balancing for and wonderful foil and that's still just a start to describe what she has come to be. Their own lives carry on and run together in some ways, part at others but always coming together. All these passing thoughts of galaxies and stars are funny when they're actually floating.

Night work and any bedroom activities are excellent stress relievers. Let's not forget curled up on the couch in bed with a blanket and a book. Storms come, storms go and the important things are constant.

A floating monkey dog is not going to be difficult to track down should they lose track of. Such a good girl to stay close to her people. Is it that lingering pack mentality?

"Baker dozen at the very least..." Her kiss has always been delicious. Tonight there's the flavor of magic. Maybe that's the pixie dust.

Some part of her is always floating when she's with him. Funny, she thought gravity worked the other way around, pulling people down to earth again. Maybe they're magnets. They're certainly unexplainable.

They've got so many ways to relieve their stress. Better ways than they had a year ago. Better than most people manage to find, if the lives they interrupt are any indication. Their floating monkey-dog is one of them. Bobbi's a pack animal and she wants to be with her alphas, loving on them and making them happy. The chance meeting with Miss Bobbi Sox was the second-best thing to happen to Ver this past year.

"Mmm, that's sounding better and better," she admits. Pixie-dusted kisses will keep them floating for hours. Mixing pixie dust into her lip gloss sounds like the sort of fun respectable almost-married women shouldn't indulge in. Pity.

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https://youtu.be/AaWPduHl_j8

https://youtu.be/6hXH5gKIWEA

https://youtu.be/LAjfB0XfjkA what's one of these without mr. b?

Well if that's how it's gonna be https://youtu.be/BRx58DgOxeg /gauntlet thrown

https://youtu.be/vCHHHAeSBvY :o

https://youtu.be/sXU5eKbEOhU 😤