this is Salem, a land filled with magic and maladies. It is a place where witches and their elemental familiars gather, a home to legend and
lore that predates time itself. Yet of all the wicked and wonderful stories the past can tell us of, the most magical are the ones yet to happen.
This is Salem - this is the start of your very own journey. Welcome to starfall
Starfall is an animaga witch roleplay set in mostly modern times. Members play as witches in a world plagued by monsters, where the only safe spots are walled cities. Starfall strives to be a character-driven roleplay with expansive lore and a highly interactive plotline. We want to allow members to
create and look back on a magical journey, and mold the site and its plot as their characters grow.
[attr="class","j1scroll"] They've been selling interesting things for this event, one most notable one being an empty book that, they say, allows you to write a fable of your own.
[break][break]It was most unusual for Caleb to be in the mood for events this day. He considers it an event not like any other, however. Saturnalia celebrates a new year, something that runs for maybe about a week (or so he heard). All he knows from fellow witches is the different themes set for each day. This particular first day's theme would be the bonfire for the day, and once that is lit until night, the nightingales will come next.
[break][break]Caleb had been holding onto the storybook for... how long since he bought them? Thirty minutes? Thirty five? He was quite unsure, just that it was the wee hours in the morning since he's held possession for this said book. He sits still on his spot, fiddling with his blue ballpen, trying to think of what to write. Problem is, he might mess up.
[break][break]But then again, it's not really bad to try, isn't it?
[break][break]There had been a clear idea in mind now, something closely related to the bonfire. So he starts writing the first few words to the story.
[break][break]The bonfire had once been home to a legendary bird some millenia ago...
[attr="class","j1notes"]SEWN LIPSalso here's caleb the storyteller okay bye // @open
[attr="class","j1scroll"] The crown of fire is a strange thing. She doesn't know why she had bought it in the first place.
[break][break]Saturnalia was a special event always hosted every end of the year, to celebrate another year survived by Sundial throughout the centuries. She's never experienced celebrating this event before, as she had come from a family of brutal lawmakers who never cared about events like this once, so Emery took the chance to join it today. Who knows what she may get to experience while there.
[break][break]She is left wondering what the crown of fire would be of any use to her for this day. She was told that it glows brightly like a flame, something that would definitely direct everyone's attention to you. It's disturbing to the eyes, however. Emery also realizes it's day; the flame would be of no use to her as of yet.
[break][break]She sits on one of the benches and looks at the two paper tokens she had bought from Kiki a while ago. For sure, there are two things she had always wanted to burn, so she begins writing with a pen whose ink is red as blood.
[break][break]*my past as an argentia [break]*my grandfather's near execution
[attr="class","j1notes"]SOLDIER'S MIND@open
[attr="class","j1items"]crown of firepaper token x2item 3item 4item 5
as the sun begins its slow descent down the sky, the cheerful festivities of saturnalia show no signs of slowing down. crowds line the streets, children and adults and elderly alike, many sporting brilliant crowns of fire and other such accessories bought from the various vendors around. the bonfire has been fed into something blazing, far bigger and brighter than the spark it had been at dawn. every few seconds, someone will toss another token in, sending embers and flickering images dancing between the flames.[break][break]
and when the sun finally dips below the horizon, a hush descends in staggered waves; people fall silent one by one as they become aware of the figure standing on a temporary stage set up to the side of the bonfire. the mayor waits until there is quiet, until all eyes on him; and then he smiles, illuminated by the magic of a light witch, and steps forth. "people of sundial, welcome to saturnalia!" he declares, to thunderous cheering.[break][break]
he clears his throat, magnified by his auditory magic, and the crowd obligingly quietens once more. "and tonight, on the first eve of these festivities, we are gathered here in remembrance of our pasts, our histories rich in tradition and valour, for great triumphs and great defeats to be remembered and told, for stories to be passed down, for new stories to be made. here, we shall celebrate the nightingtales; to start us off, please welcome master storyteller agyei rasul to the stage!"[break][break]
more thunderous applause as a an old man, white hair and beard almost luminous against the dark of his skin, takes to the stage. "long ago," he begins, and his voice is deep and resonant, subtle auditory magic amplifying it further, weaving a spell unto the audience. "long ago, before there were months and years and decades, before people knew of time beyond the passage of each day and the cycles of rain, before there were grand cities and sprawling towns, there existed a monster called 'JAHR'."[break][break]
he waves a hand and the scene behind him transforms, shifting from night-darkened rows of buildings into a scene of rolling hills, a small cluster of houses at the base, and a massive monster towering over them, horned and red-eyed and wicked.[break][break]
"this monster would come around every time springflowers bloomed, after the harvests had finished and the winter snows passed. it would come around to each village and demand a tithe of meats and honey and gold, and a single mage sacrifice, all to be consumed right before the people's horrified eyes. if the villagers failed to pay tribute, it would call upon the wrath of the earth to flatten the village, destroy the cropfields, raze the forests, and devour anyone it so pleases. some brave witches have tried to fight the JAHR, but it had grown too monstrous over time, stealing magic and strength from the mage sacrifices, its scales gleaming with stolen gold. every attempt to fight ended in destruction and failure, and every spring the JAHR grew stronger still, and so the people eventually stopped trying to fight it.[break][break]
the people began counting time by the arrival and departure of JAHR, some angry, some resigned, some who could not imagine life any other way. the ones who survived unscathed celebrated, and the ones who lost crops, lands, supplies, family members, they mourned their lost loved ones. the span between one visit and the next became known as a jahr - or a year.[break][break]
one day, one year, a man spoke up after the JAHR's departure. he had just lost his only son to the monster's demands, and had lost his wife and daughter several years before that. he had nothing else to lose, and he had had enough.'this cannot go on,' he declared, furious and distraught and determined. 'we cannot continue to sacrifice our children and our family to this monster. we must fight it, we must drive it away!'
but the people were weary and cynical. some had seen too many grisly aftermaths of failed attempts, others knew not anything but this endless cycle of sacrifice. 'don't challenge the monster,' they told him. 'it will only make things worse.' 'this is just part of life,' they told him. 'there is happiness, and there are sacrifices'. no matter who he approached, he would be turned away.[break][break]
except for one young girl, who had lost her parents to the monster when she was small. she was clever and cunning, and she had been observing the patterns of JAHR's behaviour for many years now. she noticed that it never stepped foot on their small shrine's sacred lands, she noticed when it jerked back at the sound of a loud bang before it ate the perpetrator, she noticed that it seemed to avoid the colour red. she, too, had nothing to lose, and so she approached the angry man with her observations and her eyes of steel, and she told him 'i can help'.[break][break]
the man was delighted. together, the pair plotted for the next year, the next coming of JAHR; they experimented with devices that made loud noises, and sewed up red clothes, they found a priest willing to bless them and offered a prayer each day. they were as prepared as they could possibly be come the next spring, the next year; standing next to each other in their bright red clothes, their arms full of proto-firecrackers and incense freshly burnt that morning, they were ready, heedless of the disapproval of their fellow villagers.[break][break]
the time had come: JAHR descended unto the village with its scales gleaming gold, a mouthful of razor sharp teeth on full display. WHERE IS MY SACRIFICE? it demanded, looming over the buildings. WHO WILL DIE TODAY?[break][break]
'here!' the girl said, stepping forwards defiantly. she gave the JAHR just enough time to look at her in her dress of dazzling red before she set off her firecrackers and threw them into its eyes. 'no one will die this year!' the man roared as he slammed his baton into a gong, and set off firecrackers of his own. the pair of them ran at the monster with their deafening crackers and their crimson colours, for this was what they had been preparing for all year, and they had nothing to lose.[break][break]
the monster reared back, furious but unable to stand the sight of them, nor the sound of the firecrackers explosive in its ears. STOP! it shrieked as it lashed out with its stolen magic, cracking the earth and flattening the trees, but the girl and the man refused to stop. the man used magic to blind the monster with flashes and deafen it with noise, while the girl called upon her spirits and gods to smite the monster where it stood. I WILL DEVOUR YOU ALL! it roared as it split the sky with lightning and razed their house to the ground, but they refused to falter. [break][break]
with one last angry scream, the monster recoiled back and retreated, leaving the village without its sacrifices or food. the girl and the man were victorious. their fellow villagers were amazed. [break][break]
the next year, the JAHR returned, furious and seething and ready to punish the ones who had injured it so last time. but this year, the entire village was prepared having seen the success of last year; it could barely enter the village grounds for the blessings that had been laid over each square inch, everywhere it looked it saw houses covered in red, and villagers wearing crimson clothes. a constant gonging noise rang through the streets, and firecrackers were set off at every house door. witches gathered together to throw spells at the monster; everyone was determined to drive it away.[break][break]
but the monster was too angry, and it was determined to crush these people who had stood up to it after so many years of complacent sacrifice. it swung its tail and stomped its feet, shattered the earth and crushed people beneath its claws; it wanted revenge, and it didn't care how injured it was getting. [break][break]
the girl and the man who had stood up to JAHR the year before, they saw how people were dying, how much destruction was happening, and they could not let that stand. so they gathered up every firecracker they could find, every test explosive and every sparkler, and they went to confront the monster. [break][break]
in the end, it came down to just the three of them, like it was at the start. the girl flew them up the monster's face, and instead of simply setting off the firecrackers, they took them into its mouth and eyes and set it off. there was a massive explosion, of light and sound and magic; every bystander was temporarily blinded and deafened by the reaction, turning away to protect their eyes and ears; and when they looked back, all three of them - the girl and the man and the JAHR - were gone.[break][break]
some say the pair had torn the monster up from the inside, sacrificing themselves to do so. others say the girl had opened up a portal to the underworld and pushed them all through. others still say the noise and the searing light had disintegrated them all. whatever the case, neither the girl nor the man, nor the monster JAHR were ever seen again.[break][break]
and that was how the year, and the pair-protection gods, and the saturnalian celebrations came to be."
[break][break]
as the classical fable comes to an end, the master storyteller agyei rasul finishes to a silent, enraptured crowd, his illusions behind him depicting the events of the fable fading away to the bonfire once more. "thank you," he says with a sweeping bow, and he smiles. gestures out to the bonfire, to the night. "let the nightingtales begin!" [break][break]
and the people go wild.
[attr="class","stafftemptitle"] ooc notes
this is the second stage of day 1, aka the nightingtales, will last for 3 days irl until january 23th gmt. it is now night time, with stories and history and remembrance being the main focus. for more detailed lore about this day, and the entire saturnalia event, visit the overall thread here.
[break][break]this thread is not death enabled, or even injury enabled. anyone can join.[break][break]
a reminder that posting 4 times or more in this thread over the course of both stages will count as a completed event thread for day 1 of saturnalia.[break][break]
also, to anyone interested, the fable of JAHR is based upon the chinese fable of NIAN, altered a bit to fit starfall more.
Post by iolani kótsyfas on Jan 22, 2019 5:41:45 GMT
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[attr="class","runrunlyric"] dreaming of[break]black & white
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there are few times of the year iolani likes better than saturnalia. oh, she doesn’t give a shit about all the talk about tradition and remembrance and ‘letting go’ - that’s all bullshit in her oh so humble opinion. if you want to remember things, change things, leave a fucker in the dust, just do it. only a moron would wait for a specific day.[break][break]
but she does love some good booze, chaos, partying, food, and lots of pretty pretty girls (or guys, she’s not picky) to flirt with. and saturnalia? saturnalia is fucking lit. [break][break]
the night time celebrations are far better, she decides as she eyes a group of frat boys getting roaring drunk by the fire. (their horror stories aren’t half bad, surprisingly, but they are getting dangerously close to the flames. one little nudge…) daytime festivities have to be mindful of children (ugh); the night is for the adults. [break][break]
looking around, she recognised a couple of faces here and there, some from her coven (also ugh), some from some very satisfying nights, a whole lot more from the bar by the docks. no one she particularly feels like talking to just yet. but hey, she looks fucking hot tonight (modesty? who the fuck needs that?), maybe it’ll be someone hitting on her instead.
[attr="class","cclyrics"]bite my tongue bide my time
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[attr="class","ccscroll"]“same rank!” she repeats, her enthusiasm unflagging. “we can go on missions together!” she loves her covenmates, she truly does, but there is no denying that some of their chosen missions aren’t quite her style. perhaps she’ll have more luck with corvus — both times that she’s met him, he has been dealing with dogs. there really ought to be a specific category of the mission board dedicated to dogs or other miscellaneous animal-related ( non-extermination ) jobs. it’d make life so much better.[break][break]
there is a mildly disgruntled noise at the back of her mind, where luci makes a sound of disapproval. ‘you can do more than that,’ the familiar reminds her gently. saskia offers the mental equivalent of a shrug, but the message is clear — not now.[break][break]
the distraction was just enough for her to miss the dog quickly snap something out of the air, and make quick work of it, looking very pleased with herself the entire time. whatever it was, there didn’t seem to be any immediate effects. “she seems fine for now,” saskia chirps, before she pauses, alarm crossing her features. “oh, right! i—” a glance back at the shopkeep who she agreed to help, gods what are you doing saskia, “i should really be going back, i think!”[break][break]
she gives corvus a sheepish grin, genuinely apologetic. “i’ve got to scoot off for now, but we should definitely hang out soon, though!” cue a cheery thumbs up as she backs away, and one last scratch for the dog. “you know where to find me!”
[attr="class","inkpost"]he waltzes in as the sun dips below the horizon, a stranger with glittering blue eyes dancing through a crowd enraptured by a storyteller. tonight is a night of remembrance, of history, and of story — but of all three, only one applies to ninos. there is no remembrance nor history for a man with no memories ( or no memories he particularly cares for ), and the only semblance of such he gets are stories he concocts within his own mind.[break][break]
ninos knight is a ghost with shiny hair and a winning smile, loved but not known, a face known by many names. last night, he muses, he was approached by a someone who called him julian. perhaps he has one of those faces — familiar and forgettable. nothing had transpired between them, of course, only a mildly confused pat on the shoulder and himself finding an excuse to leave, but sometimes he does wonder: had they mistaken him for someone else, or had they known him, and he had not?[break][break]
because the truth is this : ninos knight remembers his childhood. he thinks. he remembers his brother, gods rest his soul, and he remembers the accident. he thinks he does. most days, reality holds firm. sunlight is harsh and unforgiving, and it cleaves truth from lies. then night falls and his confidence wavers in the purple dusk, because what if that had been a lie? [break][break]
there is a gap in his memory, a hole in his history, a fracture in his reality ; there is a hollowness in his chest that refuses to go away, a thought that the sun chases away but creeps back in the dark like a persistent unwelcome guest, their shadow falling over the doorstep. which part is story? which part is history?[break][break]
which part is him?[break][break]
he edges towards the bonfire, until he feels its blistering heat against his skin, blue eyes now flecked with crimson sparks. his gaze slides, unbidden, towards a cluster of jesters by the side, laughter filling the air as they recount their tales. ninos pauses. he isn’t one of them, not really — or is he? — but ![break][break]
he wanders towards them nonetheless, the promise of a story and distraction luring him closer like a siren song at sea.[break][break]
@open , really just a lot of self-indulgent rambling
Last Edit: Jan 22, 2019 10:42:03 GMT by ninos knight
[attr="class","gearcore"] The first time Zephyr had attended a Saturnalia bonfire with his new name was when Fane had brought him, carried on her hip. His scars had looked a lot worse back then, and neither his amputated legs nor melted eye had yet been filled by an artificial replacement. Even so, not a single passerby glanced their way. Zeph was sure that he had Fane's illusions to thank for that. Fane had been mindful enough of the boy's recent trauma to give the open flames a wide berth, and to offer to cast his three paper tokens in the fire for him. He'd declined, and declined again the following year.
And the year after that, and the next, and the next... He probably still had those tokens, stuffed between the pages of an abandoned journal somewhere in the hidden attic of Bell's Bar, where Fane had kept him in the interim between his birth family and the Rothscuses.
It just didn't feel right to burn his family a second time.
But, despite having nothing he wished to burn and knowing the story of Jahr by heart, he still showed up almost every year. Truthfully, he wasn't entirely sure why.
As the people around the fire disperse, gathering into smaller groups among themselves to tell all manner of tales, the crafter spots a familiar face sitting by himself. Huh. It really was a small world. Zeph walks over to the mute -- Caleb was his name -- and sits down beside him. "Mind if I join ya?" he asks after he already had. Spock, the monkey familiar curled comfortably (at least, she claimed it was comfortable) around the back of his neck, offers a wave and a toothy grin.
The seer lingers just beyond the edge of the dancing firelight, alone and extruding an air indicating that he wanted to stay that way.
There is something about Saturnalia that draws out forces and energies that he can witness, but does not understand nor know how to explain. He had considered asking a starcaller if something about this planet's position to the sun and moon and cosmos at this time between years was the cause of it, but he didn't know many knowledgable starcallers, and knew none (knowledgable or not) whom he particularly trusted.
There are so many ghosts tonight, drawn to the bonfire and the stories of the living like moths to a flame. Some no longer appeared human, but lingered among the groups of storytellers all the same. Desmond was looking for one in particular -- she usually shows up at this time of year. It wasn't a guarantee , but he'd be remiss to waste the opportunity.
But she does not appear, and it seems that he would likely be leaving in silence.
ooc don't mind him, he's here for the participation achievement :eyes: scrolls used: TRUESIGHT VOL 1
The master storyteller weaves his tale, this traditional new year's fable woven in emotive words and dramatic illusions. She gasps alongside the crowd as the Yahr first appears, watches with tension corded down her spine as the girl and the man face off against the monster, cheers alongside thousands of other voices as they succeed, as the Yahr is driven off. She may have heard this story many times before, every year at Saturnalia, but every storyteller's version is slightly different, and every performance is unique.
She wonders briefly what it would be like to be put in that sort of situation, to face off against such a monster. What she would do, how she would react. Would she muster her courage and stand strong, face the Yahr with fierce eyes, fight with everything she has? Ling hopes so; she's not much of a combatant and she has no problem with that, but her being a witch of her coven means responsibilities and duties outside her comfort zone - especially at her rank - that she needs to learn to face.
Wandering by the bonfire stalls after the fable retelling has ended, she lets her thoughts drift, not looking for anyone or anything in particular. There's always a lot to think about, and Ling doesn't often take enough time to pay attention to those thoughts-
There's a flicker in the corner of her eyes; and again, and again. There are flickers in the corners of her eyes that are not flames, not moths. Ghosts, she thinks, train of thought diverted, but when she turns to look, there is never anything there. It sends a shiver down her spine. ( she wonders, she hopes: maybe the ghosts of her parents are watching over her. what would they think of her, she wonders. what would they say )
A flicker again, wind-swift and darting; again, she turns to catch it, searches for the insubstantial flash of movement among the bonfire's shadows, and still, nothing. What she does see is something better, though. "Mr Des!" Ling calls excitedly across the crowd, waving manically before making a beeline towards him. "Happy Saturnalia!" Surprisingly, Mr Tay isn't anywhere to be seen nearby. Maybe he's just gone to get something? Maybe they're on a date (probably not, but a girl can dream). "Are you here alone tonight?"
Post by iolani kótsyfas on Jan 24, 2019 7:39:58 GMT
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[attr="class","runrunlyric"] dreaming of[break]black & white
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sadly, no one approaches her with anything resembling interesting conversation, or even half-decent flirting. the last attempt to chat her up had been downright shameful with his clumsy pickup lines, really, what are they teaching kids these days? catching a couple of probably drunk twenty-ish year old guys looking at her ( or more accurately, her cleavage ), she smirks at them, wicked and sinful, and shimmies her body in a way that could probably get her arrested for public indecency. to a man, the guys flush bright red; one even trips over his own feet. she shakes her head in disappointment. again, shameful, seriously what are they teaching kids.[break][break]
writing them off with a dismissive thought, she continues to prowl the crowd, looking for a pretty face to catch her eye, or at least something interesting. her familiar is out in the night having a blast divebombing shitfaced people and generally causing mayhem; she's just about ready to join him in causing some chaos. there ain't a better crowd for shenanigans than a midnight festival crowd hammered off their ass - of course, the night's still young and most people haven't reached that stage of pissed just yet, but a little risk only adds to the fun, right?[break][break]
ah but her vague plans are put on hold ( for now ) when she spots a rather familiar face illuminated by the firelight. he seems to be heading towards a cluster of people, but she gets there first, draping an arm around his shoulders and moulding herself against his side. "now now, ninos knight," she purrs into his ear, low and wicked and husky. "no hello for me?"
the celebrations and festivities go on well after midnight, but as the hour creeps closer to the next morning, people begin to drift home while stores and vendors prepare for the second day of saturnalia to begin.[break][break]
[attr="class","stafftempsubtext"] OOC NOTES
the first day of saturnalia is now complete. you may continue posting in this thread for event points, however those posts will not count towards this thread's 4 post completion requirements. social and missions threads inspired by day 1 may still be started and completed, with the deadline being march 15th, the end of the entire saturnalia event.
[attr="class","stafftempsubtext"]
DAY 1 REWARDS
[break]
everyone who has posted at least once in a day 1 event thread will receive 50g and
[attr="class","stafftempstore"]
[attr="class","stafftempitem"]dancing faelight[break] a slip of paper with runes layered on it, channeling mana into the item will summon forth a floating ball of firelight. the witch can brighten or dim the light, and mentally command it to move within an 20 meter radius of themself. the faelight is intangible, and will last until it is dispelled by the witch, by purification, or once an hour is up. this item was created by a novice witch.
anyone who has completed a day 1 event thread or posted at least 4 times in this thread (saskia burovski) will also receive 150g and
[attr="class","stafftempstore"]
[attr="class","stafftempitem"]PHOENIX TOKEN[break] a small golden token of a phoenix bursting from a fire. it seems normal enough, but you could swear you just saw it glow...
[attr="class","stafftempitem"]GENERAL: DANCING FAELIGHTS[break] casting this spell will cause floating balls of firelight to appear, the number of which depends on the ability and the desire of the caster. the witch can brighten or dim the lights, and mentally command them to move within a radius around themselves dependent on their rank. the faelights are intangible, and will last until dispelled by the witch, by purification, or once an amount of time has passed.
characters who have burnt a token in the fire (líng lù-xī, @emery) will also receive 3 bonus event points.
come out upon my seas cursed missed opportunities am i a part of the cure or am I part of the disease
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Percy doesn't miss the profanity aimed at him, even as he squeezes (rather forcefully) into the crowd in hopes to lose the redhead. Aiden is a nightmare who likes to meddle with people’s business that doesn’t, in any way, involve him. Perhaps it’s the so-called ingenuity and curiosity of a Knight. After all, it’s their job to nitpick things. It’s proven successful back in the Amagika Park with the whole zombies and doors and giant familiars. Less so when it’s between him and Ling. They ended up rather sourly, but with cleanly. No reason for Aiden to be involved in the scene, but there he was.
He makes his way to the bonfire, then at the very edge of it. It’s the place where people are burning… papers tokens. Something about letting go of things. He doesn’t really care, though, except for this one particular small brunette. She seems to be throwing papers—not just one—into the fire. The flames swallow up the pieces and turns it into ash. Percy shivers… There’s this sinking feeling that his name is written in one of those papers… The thought comes too late. Percy has already called for Ling’s attention. “Uh, hi!” he greets, too. She looks just like any other girl now—makes it easier to Percy to talk. “Happy Saturnalia! I’m doing great! You want some churros? They’re cooked pretty well,” he rattles on, then, handing her the cup.
“So, um, you’re enjoying the bonfire, I see… Is burning paper tokens a routine for you during the Saturnalia?”
The crackling of the fire is loud but doesn’t deter Percy’s hearing. It’s muffled, though, like it’s cut off mid-yell. What is that? Percy starts to fidget and look around… “Thought I hear something… who…”
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[attr="class","s1lyrics1"]constellation of tears on your lashes
[attr="class","s1lyrics2"]burn everythign you love then burn the ashes
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Corvus nodded at the Saskia, happy they could one day go on more missions together. Hopefully. That’d be nice. Hopefully it didn’t go as poorly as the herding mission with Siobhan. He’d really taken the brunt of that one all things considered. He nodded at his companion, noting Goosely hadn’t choked or anything and was probably fine. “Oh! Right- I didn’t mean to keep you-” he blurted out as Saskia turned away ready to throw herself back into her work. Goosely managed a swift goodbye lick at the witch’s hand before she bounded back to work and left Corvus waving after her and calling out a bold, “I’ll hold you to it!” If the nerves didn’t kill him first, of course.
[break][break]
He doesn’t hang around the area for too long after, not wanting to distract Saskia and- not wanting to run into Siobhan again. He could already feel himself shriveling up under her glare. The sun had dropped, Goosely had more or less had her fill of excitement and festival foods. Hopefully, the worst that happened was she ate some grass and purged it if it really upset her tummy. He stopped at the outer edge of the crowd to watch the mayor call them to attention, Goose taking a seat next to him as he sat and watched, entranced by the storyteller and their illusions illustrating the monstrously beautiful JAHR and the heroes in scarlet. Before he knew it, the people’s cheers startle him to his senses and the story is over.
[break][break]
Goosely let out a soft whine, tilting her head up at Corvus as he glanced around quickly before headbutting him for attention. This seemed to calm him a bit and he tightened his grip on the leash. The walk had taken all day at this point. She was probably thirsty by now. “Let’s go get you some real dinner.” He said before taking the lead, with the mastiff falling instep with him as they headed back home.
[attr="class","j1scroll"] No. She's not angry, she really isn't. It had just shocked her to see him with someone else, when she had just imagined him going to the Saturnalia festival all by himself. But then again, Fate has a way of breaking expectations. It wouldn't really matter to her if it would hurt another person or not, to expect what they expect before turning out they had been wrong.
[break][break]But she's not hurt. She's not mad at him, either.
[break][break]Jelly walks up to him with a small smile, her hands loosening on the paper tokens she had previously gripped so tight in her hands. "Hey, Percy." She greets him, stopping beside him just a few inches away. She glances at the woman beside him and waves at her as well. Rather young, she notes. Her eyes find their way at Percy again, and she tilts her head with a raised eyebrow.
[attr="class","j1scroll"] He remains mostly unperturbed, undisturbed the entire night. His blue pen is still working rapidly and his mind is fiddling with words to inscribe in the storybook. Most times, he would stop and relax, but that only lasts until about two minutes before he begins writing on it again. Lips puckered out of his mouth, his mind is clearly focused but his conscience isn't-- he should have been enjoying the night's festivities but his mind is too focused on the story in front of him.
[break][break]But Caleb hears a familiar voice and he stops writing. Looking up, he sees the familiar face of Zephyr Hart -- the man who had helped him get out of Eclipse Town some time before -- asking if he would mind sitting next to him. He smiles and shakes his head, before turning back to the book. Of course he doesn't mind. He pulls out his notebook and writes a small message to the blonde.
[break][break]Of course I don't mind, states the message. Below reads a second. Happy Saturnalia. How have you been, Zeph?
