Great welcome makes a merry feast

[hermia-sophia.livejournal.com]

Friday, October 16, early evening
Valmont and Hermia's apartment

It is not a party. Of that I was absolutely adamant.

Valmont teased me about it, but only a very little and only very gently, for he understood, even if it's an absurd superstition on my part. I haven't had a party in Excolo that's gone well. So I won't call this a party. It's a dinner.

And it will be a lovely dinner - Valmont's really outdone himself with the food. I just stood back and let him work, while I took care of arranging the rest of the room. There are candles on the table, and clusters of asters and chrysanthemums in little vases, with more flowers on the tables in the living room where we'll talk before dinner. Which will be just talking; not a party.

I've finally let the kitten, Nestor, back into the room - he yowled a bit when I shut him up, but I was not about to let him get into the flowers before they were all set! I hope that he'll be good company for Chester, although I imagine that Chester will, as usual, be more interested in human conversation than animal.

I twist the ring around on my finger - it still feels strange to be wearing a ring on that finger again, and oddly heavy for such a delicate little band. But it feels right, too. It felt right when I put it on at the jewelry stall at the market, even if it still needed to be adjusted so that it fit my finger. And part of me can't help smiling every time one of the sparkling jewels catches the light.

[Open to Not A Party guests - if you think you'd be invited, you probably were :)]

Great welcome makes a merry feast

[hermia-sophia.livejournal.com]

Friday, October 16, early evening
Valmont and Hermia's apartment

It is not a party. Of that I was absolutely adamant.

Valmont teased me about it, but only a very little and only very gently, for he understood, even if it's an absurd superstition on my part. I haven't had a party in Excolo that's gone well. So I won't call this a party. It's a dinner.

And it will be a lovely dinner - Valmont's really outdone himself with the food. I just stood back and let him work, while I took care of arranging the rest of the room. There are candles on the table, and clusters of asters and chrysanthemums in little vases, with more flowers on the tables in the living room where we'll talk before dinner. Which will be just talking; not a party.

I've finally let the kitten, Nestor, back into the room - he yowled a bit when I shut him up, but I was not about to let him get into the flowers before they were all set! I hope that he'll be good company for Chester, although I imagine that Chester will, as usual, be more interested in human conversation than animal.

I twist the ring around on my finger - it still feels strange to be wearing a ring on that finger again, and oddly heavy for such a delicate little band. But it feels right, too. It felt right when I put it on at the jewelry stall at the market, even if it still needed to be adjusted so that it fit my finger. And part of me can't help smiling every time one of the sparkling jewels catches the light.

[Open to Not A Party guests - if you think you'd be invited, you probably were :)]

(no subject)

[fairy-fiona.livejournal.com]

Friday, October 16, mid-afternoon
Outside the stables

It was a weird week.

Somebody gave me a PONY and I don't know who and Daddy got all grumbly 'cause he didn't know who and he was worried that it might have been somebody mean or another bad-wish pony but it wasn't it was real and it was MINE!

Her name is Sparkle and she doesn't have shoes yet so I can't ride her but that means that I can spend as much time with her as I want without having to worry about the iron making me feel itchy and I can hug her and brush her as long as somebody is watching and I don't squeeze too hard.

And then a couple days ago I woke up and looked out the window and there were extra-sparkly raindrops in the yard like I was still dreaming but they were real till they went away. And then Miss Kaeli got sick and then later I heard there was a big fire and Miss Anushka died and so did the big loud man that worked at the butcher's. I was sad but Miss Anushka was always sad too. It made me think of all of her mothers and grandmothers and she didn't have a daughter that looks like her to do what she did.

I had bad dreams that night too. They're getting better but I still have them sometimes. And I still miss Aunt Vicky and I still need to tell her that I'm sorry but she's always busy when I go to visit.

I go to the stables every day after school and somebody always helps me take Sparkle outside so I can brush her and braid her hair. Today I brought ribbons! Yellow and blue and pink. I think she likes the pink ones best.

[Open to Chester and others]

(no subject)

[fairy-fiona.livejournal.com]

Friday, October 16, mid-afternoon
Outside the stables

It was a weird week.

Somebody gave me a PONY and I don't know who and Daddy got all grumbly 'cause he didn't know who and he was worried that it might have been somebody mean or another bad-wish pony but it wasn't it was real and it was MINE!

Her name is Sparkle and she doesn't have shoes yet so I can't ride her but that means that I can spend as much time with her as I want without having to worry about the iron making me feel itchy and I can hug her and brush her as long as somebody is watching and I don't squeeze too hard.

And then a couple days ago I woke up and looked out the window and there were extra-sparkly raindrops in the yard like I was still dreaming but they were real till they went away. And then Miss Kaeli got sick and then later I heard there was a big fire and Miss Anushka died and so did the big loud man that worked at the butcher's. I was sad but Miss Anushka was always sad too. It made me think of all of her mothers and grandmothers and she didn't have a daughter that looks like her to do what she did.

I had bad dreams that night too. They're getting better but I still have them sometimes. And I still miss Aunt Vicky and I still need to tell her that I'm sorry but she's always busy when I go to visit.

I go to the stables every day after school and somebody always helps me take Sparkle outside so I can brush her and braid her hair. Today I brought ribbons! Yellow and blue and pink. I think she likes the pink ones best.

[Open to Chester and others]

Oh Lord, remember me

[kateohara.livejournal.com]

"Superstition ought not to be confounded with religion, however much their history may be interwoven, nor magic, however white it may be, with a legitimate religious rite."
The Catholic Encylopedia (1908)

Friday, early afternoon

I've been thinking a lot about my conversation with Lugh. Exorcism is a strange word. I look down at the bible I have put on the counter in front of me.

When he arrived at the other side in the region of the Gadarenes,[a] two demon-possessed men coming from the tombs met him. They were so violent that no one could pass that way. 29"What do you want with us, Son of God?" they shouted. "Have you come here to torture us before the appointed time?"

And then I turn forward two chapters in Matthew to another passage I've never paid much attention to.

And he called unto him his twelve disciples, and gave them authority over unclean spirits, to cast them out, and to heal all manner of disease and all manner of sickness.

I am not an apostle. Can I do this? And on whose authority will Lugh be casting out this demon? On whose authority will he be getting back Lucien's soul? If it is his own, am I taking part in a blasphemy? I don't know. But it has to be right, to try to save someone's soul. I suppose God can work through all of us, even gods.

I sigh and close the bible. It has been such a strange week. Robert Reaves found murdered, and the election postponed until the case is solved - and now that has been overshadowed by the sudden death of Anushka Voronin and Antony Marks - Ares - in a house fire. I heard that Glass fainted in the Miskatonic Cafe, and that Dorian of all people took her to see Lucien. I get more and more confused by Glass's acquaintances... Dorian hit her, so why is he helping her? I wonder if she heard about Anushka and was overcome with - relief, maybe? Or just too much feeling. I even braved going to the tavern on Wednesday to see how she was. The barman said she and Iago were not to be disturbed, as Glass was not well, so I asked him to pass on my best wishes. I left a jar of preserves. I hope he passed it on.

Today, however, there's a bright spot - Hermia and Valmont are getting married, and they are having a celebration. The invitation said that I could bring a guest, and so I have asked Tess. It would be so rude to not invite her when she is staying at my house! And besides, I like having her with me; it's comforting, somehow. Now I'm trying to decide if she would take offence if I offered to lend her something to wear. I think Tess's clothes are fine, but Hermia and Valmont are always elegant, and I don't think Tess is likely to have any party clothes with her... We're not quite the same size, but I have one or two things that might fit. It makes me smile, a little.

I try to push thoughts of what Lugh is asking me to do from my mind. I will have to speak to Laurence about it, but for now, I must get back to work, and enjoy the celebration. Even in these dark times, it seems like people keep falling in love. And that to me is proof that good is still working in the world.

[closed]

Oh Lord, remember me

[kateohara.livejournal.com]

"Superstition ought not to be confounded with religion, however much their history may be interwoven, nor magic, however white it may be, with a legitimate religious rite."
The Catholic Encylopedia (1908)

Friday, early afternoon

I've been thinking a lot about my conversation with Lugh. Exorcism is a strange word. I look down at the bible I have put on the counter in front of me.

When he arrived at the other side in the region of the Gadarenes,[a] two demon-possessed men coming from the tombs met him. They were so violent that no one could pass that way. 29"What do you want with us, Son of God?" they shouted. "Have you come here to torture us before the appointed time?"

And then I turn forward two chapters in Matthew to another passage I've never paid much attention to.

And he called unto him his twelve disciples, and gave them authority over unclean spirits, to cast them out, and to heal all manner of disease and all manner of sickness.

I am not an apostle. Can I do this? And on whose authority will Lugh be casting out this demon? On whose authority will he be getting back Lucien's soul? If it is his own, am I taking part in a blasphemy? I don't know. But it has to be right, to try to save someone's soul. I suppose God can work through all of us, even gods.

I sigh and close the bible. It has been such a strange week. Robert Reaves found murdered, and the election postponed until the case is solved - and now that has been overshadowed by the sudden death of Anushka Voronin and Antony Marks - Ares - in a house fire. I heard that Glass fainted in the Miskatonic Cafe, and that Dorian of all people took her to see Lucien. I get more and more confused by Glass's acquaintances... Dorian hit her, so why is he helping her? I wonder if she heard about Anushka and was overcome with - relief, maybe? Or just too much feeling. I even braved going to the tavern on Wednesday to see how she was. The barman said she and Iago were not to be disturbed, as Glass was not well, so I asked him to pass on my best wishes. I left a jar of preserves. I hope he passed it on.

Today, however, there's a bright spot - Hermia and Valmont are getting married, and they are having a celebration. The invitation said that I could bring a guest, and so I have asked Tess. It would be so rude to not invite her when she is staying at my house! And besides, I like having her with me; it's comforting, somehow. Now I'm trying to decide if she would take offence if I offered to lend her something to wear. I think Tess's clothes are fine, but Hermia and Valmont are always elegant, and I don't think Tess is likely to have any party clothes with her... We're not quite the same size, but I have one or two things that might fit. It makes me smile, a little.

I try to push thoughts of what Lugh is asking me to do from my mind. I will have to speak to Laurence about it, but for now, I must get back to work, and enjoy the celebration. Even in these dark times, it seems like people keep falling in love. And that to me is proof that good is still working in the world.

[closed]

The meeting of personalities is like that of chemical stubstances. With any reaction, both transform

[tereixa-zann.livejournal.com]

[Friday, October 16, mid-morning]
[On top of the Carousel]

It's been two days. Sun went down in a sky still smutty from smoke and came up clean on the other side, went down in a chilly dusk and came up this morning and now it's inching 'round and up and over me like the world's slowest scoop, and it'll fall again and come up through clouds and sky and it'll swing around slow on its own golden span of light, and Lady Anushka Voronin will still be dead.

Wednesday it was almost okay, it was knowing but not seeing, a blueprint etched in mutters. I wanted to go out there and I didn't, because fire makes people edgy and when the townie houses start burning down you don't want to end up getting caught poking around the ruins. I'd have gone anyway except Essa said that if she couldn't find me on the damn lot she'd head out there herself. And I couldn't let her do that.

I cried when the sun went down. I mean, I wasn't bawling or anything, just slow stunned tears like I'd been slapped, like I'd managed to bring the hammer down on my hand, that fine sharp spike you get shooting up your arm to your heart before the rest of the sensation sets in, except this time it wouldn't end.

Genny came by to see me, that night. She brought cookies. It was awful and awkward and we didn't--god, we couldn't even talk right, all jitter and halt around each other, and then I really cried, and so did she. I got it under control enough to thank her, and when I went to bed it was easier, long soft ragged sobbing, and I fell asleep feeling better.

And then I woke up yesterday, and Anushka was still dead.

I guess she knew it was coming. I can imagine her standing there to meet it, all bright in silk and light, fine nobility and the steady grace. I remember the first time I saw her, bowing to her in the dust, and her hand in my hair. Remember how she laid out the shape of the town, the fine notes of the piano in the air, and how she let me hold her with the rain coming down all around us, stitching earth to sky.

I remember she kissed me, through the broken glass I brought together for her, and showed me the world unfolding in a piece of crystal. The whole world.

I know what she did. She showed me, in that glare that took apart the world, magnesium flare eating everything inside her to sparks and light. But she warned me. She cared.

You weren't a monster, Lady Voronin. You were never that.

And I can't tell her that, and all the words I could've said, all the things she could've showed me--oh, hell, not even that, all the things I might have been able to watch her as she saw! And she'd have known, I guess...

(And today I woke up before dawn, and the air was cool, and I fed Anti and Kythera and I went out to the Carousel, my baby, and I set her running in the clear morning air, and haul myself up to the top of her and feel her running along underneath me, sweet and bright.)

Anushka would have known, she would have, and that's beautiful, all the beauty and singing meaning that she saw so much better than any or all of us ever could, that great and shining motion that rolls on and on forever as we turn on its strings and weave meaning out of it all to make it into something real.

But oh god, oh God, it's selfish and it's helpless but even though she knew, I wish I could have had a chance to tell her.

[Closed]

The meeting of personalities is like that of chemical stubstances. With any reaction, both transform

[tereixa-zann.livejournal.com]

[Friday, October 16, mid-morning]
[On top of the Carousel]

It's been two days. Sun went down in a sky still smutty from smoke and came up clean on the other side, went down in a chilly dusk and came up this morning and now it's inching 'round and up and over me like the world's slowest scoop, and it'll fall again and come up through clouds and sky and it'll swing around slow on its own golden span of light, and Lady Anushka Voronin will still be dead.

Wednesday it was almost okay, it was knowing but not seeing, a blueprint etched in mutters. I wanted to go out there and I didn't, because fire makes people edgy and when the townie houses start burning down you don't want to end up getting caught poking around the ruins. I'd have gone anyway except Essa said that if she couldn't find me on the damn lot she'd head out there herself. And I couldn't let her do that.

I cried when the sun went down. I mean, I wasn't bawling or anything, just slow stunned tears like I'd been slapped, like I'd managed to bring the hammer down on my hand, that fine sharp spike you get shooting up your arm to your heart before the rest of the sensation sets in, except this time it wouldn't end.

Genny came by to see me, that night. She brought cookies. It was awful and awkward and we didn't--god, we couldn't even talk right, all jitter and halt around each other, and then I really cried, and so did she. I got it under control enough to thank her, and when I went to bed it was easier, long soft ragged sobbing, and I fell asleep feeling better.

And then I woke up yesterday, and Anushka was still dead.

I guess she knew it was coming. I can imagine her standing there to meet it, all bright in silk and light, fine nobility and the steady grace. I remember the first time I saw her, bowing to her in the dust, and her hand in my hair. Remember how she laid out the shape of the town, the fine notes of the piano in the air, and how she let me hold her with the rain coming down all around us, stitching earth to sky.

I remember she kissed me, through the broken glass I brought together for her, and showed me the world unfolding in a piece of crystal. The whole world.

I know what she did. She showed me, in that glare that took apart the world, magnesium flare eating everything inside her to sparks and light. But she warned me. She cared.

You weren't a monster, Lady Voronin. You were never that.

And I can't tell her that, and all the words I could've said, all the things she could've showed me--oh, hell, not even that, all the things I might have been able to watch her as she saw! And she'd have known, I guess...

(And today I woke up before dawn, and the air was cool, and I fed Anti and Kythera and I went out to the Carousel, my baby, and I set her running in the clear morning air, and haul myself up to the top of her and feel her running along underneath me, sweet and bright.)

Anushka would have known, she would have, and that's beautiful, all the beauty and singing meaning that she saw so much better than any or all of us ever could, that great and shining motion that rolls on and on forever as we turn on its strings and weave meaning out of it all to make it into something real.

But oh god, oh God, it's selfish and it's helpless but even though she knew, I wish I could have had a chance to tell her.

[Closed]