There had been a time, once upon, when Kassandra had been extremely happy. Days flitted by in a vapid stream of colors and exploration, new sights, scents, tastes, and, above all, people. Having been confined to a tower since shortly after birth and unwillingly trapped in a horrible mythos woven around her by the powers that were led to much missed opportunity and social deterioration. Freedom was once fresh and sweet, the world wide and big, and everything just as swell as could be.

Then she met a god.

Caligo had looked down at her with eyes simultaneously devoid of everything and full, full of the Nothing. Heart full of worship and hope, Kas had asked a simple question: why? Why had the Goddess chosen her to be the vessel for such terrible sights, such horrendous prophecy, the bitter, vile truth of destruction? Why send the nightmares which haunt her nights and wrack her body with shivers and fill her throat with bile? Why instil such self-loathing based in confusion and the unwitting sense of being born a harbinger of doom?

And Caligo had taken scant time to answer: IDK, you tell me.

Kas tried not to be bitter. It wasn’t working. She was steadily moving through the stages of grief from whatever the first devastating steps were to more of a residual, smouldering rancor, something fetid taking root in her heart and leeching the life out of her, like a halitosis of the soul. Stewing and bubbling, a veritable witch’s cauldron of utter disappointment.

A party was usually a good time to break out of such a stagnation, shattering the tarnished and dusty glass of a cynical mind. Kas was trying to keep an open one. She was trying lots of things recently, including some strange concoction which tasted like sour apples and buzzed through her with both the lumpish weight of alcohol and something more electric. It wouldn’t do to drink oneself into a stupor, after all, given the nature of the festivities.

The music was a droll tambourin in the background. The dancing was strained and staggering. People were drunk and tired, but also wired. It reminded Kass of marionettes on strings.

She was standing a bit off from the swathe, next to a drink stall, while Oculos hovered nearby hoping to snipe treats which ventured too far to the edge of merchant carts. She was stuck somewhere between working up the courage to dance and flat-out refusing to have any part of this celebration at all.

Still, she was in a better mood than she had been in a long time, all things considered.


tagged @Gareth
notes a thousand years late. big ups to RALLI for letting me use their tables to help learn how to do the fun floaty background thingy.
party dress

kassandra,

but this woman, this who is agonized here--

The east sea and west sea rhyme on in her head for ever instead.

All the world was abuzz with the inevitability of Ira’s coronation. It was something heavy and imminent and unavoidable, like seeing distant and unfavorable relatives at a gathering. But, in true Denoctian fashion, there was less a hum of excitement and more a tightening, squeezing of cheeks to prepare for some awful taste, and the air became full with the grinding of teeth as the community pinned it’s courage to the sticking place and put their heads down to thunder though the winds of celebration.

Kassandra was no exception. In her sleepless midnight wanderings she watched the volunteers flitter about, setting up shop for Ira’s big to-do, adding extra lanterns to a sky already occluded by the paper constructs, and filling the town square with effigies of amethyst wolves, moons, and stars, all symbols of Caligo that once filled Kass with such pride; now they simply made her heart hurt.

At her side, her faithful hound watched her head hang lower and lower as the night went on.  They paused in front of a wicker billboard plastered with notices and party invites.

i think a little party would do us some good, Oculos said as he came out of a comfortable stretch.

Kass mulled the words over like something she expected to taste foul but was actually liking.

“You know, I do think you may be right,” she finally allowed, head rising a bit, ballooned by the energy of a tired smile.

see? Oculos winked. i have good ideas. you should listen to me more. but it is a masquerade party, he said, sounding bitter, and we don’t have anything… fancy… to wear.

“I do know how to sew, you know,” Kassandra said, threading an indignant sniff into her voice. She led them back towards the market. “Lady Zair was my tutor.” She squinted an eye. “She was always afraid to give me needles because she was certain I would try and stab her eyes out with them so I only got to practice when she left.”

One trip to the Night Market to peruse materials later and Kas set up with a sewing pattern, yards of black tuille, gray satin, and thick cotton with a fine, white beaded ornamentation sewn into it. It was a simple gown, with a gathered neckline and floating sleeves. The pattern called for a gathered waist but Kass was neither petite nor gentle, and so when she stepped into it ripped with a horrible noise and sent beads scattering everywhere. She was surprised when she looked into the mirror and saw the massive tear over her back actually looked flattering, though it did little for hiding her identity from any who may know her.

When she accidentally stepped on the beads and shattered them, inspiration struck; the scattered fragments looked like little stars. She happily went about fracturing the rest of the beads, turning them into galaxy patterns so that they might dance and shimmer on the fabric when it moved.

She was most proud of the mask. Scale-like sections of gray satin hand sewn together and pinned to a blackened veil. Oculos snagged some of it on his claws and accidentally shredded it, inspiring Kas to do the same for the rest of the edges. The antlers, by most opinions runty things, were purchased from a hunting outfitter.

Oculos glared at her through unimpressed, half-lowered eyelids as she affixed the bone structures to her mask with lots of glue. i hate you. Kass did not deign a reply, but she was smiling like a maniac.

The euphoria lasted right up until the start of the party itself, wherein Kas found herself standing on the edge of a swarm of strangers, all bedecked, in some fashion or another, in intricate masks, costumes, and paint. She swallowed hard and her courage crumbled, the dress which once brought her so much pride now beginning to feel a bit like a ruffle-collared noose.

Oculos, whose smaller mask matched his owner (sans the antlers; he would rather die than wear the antlers) poked her with his long nose to give her some strength. c’mon, Kas, he said, taking tiny steps forward to urge her onward, it’s just a party. And no one’s even gonna know who you are. ideally.

She swallowed again, her mouth dry. “I-- highly doubt that. But.” Her tail lashed in agitation. Where had this social fear come from? She had never been a cultured society lady, and had a penchant for bumbling into communal spaces and being a giant, living faux pas. Why was she suddenly so scared? Why did she care?

Her heart calmed, and she realized instantly, she didn’t. Breathing regulated, she flicked her ears forward and fixed her companion with a look of renewed vigor.

“Let’s find the snack table,” she said, and his mouth split open in an excited, toothy grin.

Caelum

The sun had barely started to rise.

Color dotted the horizon, bright and cheerful, full of wonder and the promise of a new day. The colors didn't melt the frozen heart. They didn't make the fae smile; they didn't inspire any sort of reaction from the mare who'd already been up for a few hours. She stretched in the coolness of the autumn morning instead, one limb and then the next, unkinking and realigning the vertebra of her spine, her neck. Her head was tossed back, chocolate eyes dull from the pain of nightmares through the night, as she shook her mane into a better array, letting the long forelock fall loosely over her gaze, shielding the lack of a proper emotional response from the few in Denocte who would recognize the symptoms of a long night of no rest.

It wasn't uncommon after all.

But last night had been worse than normal, and at the moment, Caelum just needed an escape, a short escape, to regather herself, her thoughts, her memories. To bind it all into a tight ball, as small as she could make it before shoving that ball into the depths of her self-conscious so she could once more wear her brave face without it slipping into an emotionless void when she wasn't paying attention. A few hours, to regather, to recenter, to let the magic that Novus held over her do its work and settle her mind, soothe the frayed ends of her tattered heart, and help her forget the visions, the memories that had danced through her mind.

She should have known it would happen.

She'd gone home, she'd seen the graves, she'd returned to where her life had shattered, her heart had been ripped out and burned, and she had done what she needed on autopilot there, she hadn't taken time to mourn silently, she hadn't had the time with those who hunted her sniffing her out when they realized she'd shown back up on the Seelie Lands. The fae had to cut her visit short when they'd treaded too close to her, and now the feeling of betrayal, of ignoring them, ignoring the past had raised the memories from their locked box. Had forced her to relive their last moments. Arson sacrificing himself so she could get away from the bandits after their fairy wings. Convallis falling with a pitiful cry of 'mommy' as she was unable to reach him before her baby fell, Calico, attacking with a vengeance before he was robbed from her by those teeth stained with her baby's blood. She'd woken to the memory of Trey standing bloodied, a corpse showing every wound he'd received when fighting to the death to keep her safe. He didn't say anything, just stared at her with his red eyes, silently watching, as if suggesting she'd forgotten him.

As if she could ever forget him.

But now, for just a few days, she wanted to. She wanted a chance to breathe, a chance to resettle her mind, to let Novus reheal the wounds that had been opened by seeing her kingdom in ruins again. Her wings snapped out, delicate film flapping as she lept into the air, easily catching her weight and carrying her up, and up, and up in that dawn sky. Her wings carried her further out of Denocte, making her way to Ruris, to Eluetheria Plain where she could let the simple, peaceful land settle her mind and settle her heart. Wings fluttered quickly, her mane and tail whipping behind her, banners of ivory signaling her request of mercy to the pain. Fairy dust trailed delicately through the air, shedding off of her wings with each flap as she crossed the realms easily. It didn't take her too long to get where she was going.

A year had passed, and she still knew Novus.

It was proof of how much she liked the land that had done so much to help her, how it worked to settle her thoughts and soothe the pain, help her feel more alive like it would be okay eventually. And some days were excellent - when she could laugh and dance around others, impish and playful, a true fae to the name. But it would take a little time for the reopened wounds to heal enough for her days to be anything more than passable, a few weeks to remember she didn't need to feel guilty, she didn't need to feel like she forgot, because she couldn't forget.

Her wings angled her down to the plains.

She didn't touch down, wings humming to keep her afloat a few inches off of the ground, even as she trotted through the air. She breathed in the early morning air, the chill that clutched at her lungs, as the peaceful sounds of the plains just waking up helped chase away the last of the shadows remaining from the nightmare. A smile started to twitch to life, even if her eyes remained dull for the time being. She allowed her hooves to touch the ground, carefully checking and not seeing anyone nearby. Another deep breath, another forcefully full body shake, starting from the top of her mane and ending at the base of her tail. Mentally she was recentering herself, gathering the pain and memories the nightmares had dredged up and once more burying them deep into her subconscious. Even asleep, they would be untouchable.

The tension fell off her shoulders.

Less tense, less stressed, less struggling with each step. It wasn't perfect; it rarely was on these harder days, but it was enough to help her replace her mask, finally faking the expression of contentment, using it to disguise just how void of emotion she usually was deep down inside, how emotionless she'd become most of the time to keep from living in the constant emotional pain of her past. It was a mask built on her mother's knee, the mask of a royal who couldn't let the subjects see when something was wrong: flawless, too perfect, artificial. As artificial as she felt when she introduced herself fully - Princess of a dead kingdom more like. Can she really call herself the Light of Summer if the Summer Court had been so hopelessly destroyed? You can remove the princess from the country, but you can't take that training from her actions. And a part of her was glad; she'd use that mask to pretend like she was okay, like she was fine like she was another oblivious little mare who didn't know any better about the real darkness of the world.

Better than being a warrior with survivors' guilt.

"Speech"
Thoughts
@Leviathan
Notes: No idea what will happen but I'm fairly excited to find out

Caelum

Denocte looked the same.

Exactly how she remembered it, though it was fall, and she left in spring. But the smells were different, a likely change to leadership that had her wondering who was in charge now. Her hooves touched down lightly on the soil as she looked around, drawing in a soft breath, picking out the scents she recognized - Lu was still around (a good thing, considering the items she'd brought back for her fellow healer). The tangy ocean scent from young Pol who avoided the ocean like the plague. And so many others she hadn't seen in a year while she'd been away.

It was nice being back.

It was simpler here. Sure, there was chaos, calamity and confusion of it's own sort in Novus. Between the Gods, and the land itself (she remembered the island well - though there was an odd ripple where it once was now). But it wasn't the horrors she'd experienced in the past. There had been no pain here. Nothing to further shatter her heart that had been broken so many times, the pieces no longer fit together. There was nothing else to shove in her box and bury under barbwire so she wouldn't have to feel it.

Slowly, Novus was healing her.

It would be a long process, Caelum knew that, but the fae princess had hope that it would happen one day - that the light at the end of the tunnel would be with in her grasp and not a fleeting glimpse between moments of darkness and pain. But Cae knew how hard it was to heal wounds of the heart. They weren't like anything physical, applying a balm to a burn, or a poultice to a cut. You couldn't wrap it in gauze and cobwebs to hold it together. You had pick up each piece and push them into a mass and hope it held while time did it's own work.

Some wounds time couldn't heal.

Convallis would forever haunt her memories. A mother doesn't get over burying her child before herself, and it's harder still when it's your fault. She and Calico had antagonized too far. They hadn't protected their child when they should have, in the end, they hadn't protected anyone properly. Only a few they were helping were able to escape, Caelum lost her entire kingdom (the few survivors hiding with the Autumn Court) and her own parent's bodies had been left in a state. Then trying to escape with Calico, Convallis and a few abled-bodied others . . . the ambush wasn't expected. Calico hadn't been able to get there fast enough. Caelum hadn't been able protect Convallis well enough. The others hadn't been strong enough. Their escape had been foiled. Caelum and only seven others out of the group of 50 had escaped. Convallis wasn't one of them. Her little baby boy, not even old enough to taste grass for the first time, struck down before he could even see the world.

You don't get over that.

But Caelum was still healing. She met each day with the best smile she could. She faced each day head on. She had some days when she'd hide in her home, unwilling to face the day, and she had other days where she could laugh at ease. Novus was helping, slowly . . . but returning home to the Florumian Court hadn't been easy. either. She saw the destruction up close again, even if nature had finally began to reclaim the land. Even if the wounds on the earth were disappearing. Her kingdom was in ruins, the large number of graves had been heartbreaking to see, her home was shattered. But one day, she'd be strong enough to win it back, to rebuild, to fetch her brother, and the rest of the Seelie Court from the Unseelie Realm. One day her kingdom would see light again, even if it was her heir who brought it to light, or their heir after them.

But for now, Novus was home.

And it was good to be home.

"Speech"
Thoughts
@Gareth
Notes: And let the medics make friends!

Caelum

It felt like homecoming.

Her hoof touched down on the sand as filmed wings stopped moving. Her ivory hair floated lightly on the soft ocean breeze, carrying the scent of sea with her. It was her step back onto Novus soil, though it did little to settle her thoughts. The trip had been harsh over the sea, stopping from island to island to get back, but it wasn't as difficult as the sight of her homelands had been; her kingdom had looked. The earth had begun to reclaim everything, growing back slowly. But her people were still locked in safety behind the barriers of the Autumnous Court, not that she was surprised. She'd seen some of the monsters, those terrible equines who had slaughtered her people, had been through recently. Still checking up frequently - waiting for her return. She didn't stay long. A traveling sack was filled with what she had gone home for, beyond checking on things - though it was the primary reason for her return home. No, she'd returned with packages of carefully preserved seeds and handfuls of carefully wrapped seedlings ready for transfer into the soil, and of course, her apology to Luvena for being gone was the entire package of different herbs and medical supplies difficult to find in Novus, all stored properly with clean, delicate writing labeling each one carefully. 

Perhaps Lu would forgive her.

Especially when she explained in private, she just . . . she had to see her home, see how it was doing. Her duty demanded it of her. One day, she prayed that the Florumian Court would one day grow strong again. It might not be any time soon, but hopefully one day. She could only hope. But now, she was back in Novus, much to her relief. It was with much relief to return to this land. A soft warmth on her chest was a touch of delight, filling her heart with a soft bit of warmth that was tempered by a melancholy disappointment. She touched her muzzle to the red stone, missing the knowledge that the other end of the red stone would forever remain cold in death - no longer connected to the individual who had given it to her so he would know if she ever needed him.

Trey had taken so much with him.

What light had returned in her life with Calico and Convallis had disappeared further upon Convallis's death, her sweet little boy taken before he had the chance to even experience life properly. But she kept moving with each day, with each step of the way. She was determined to keep making it forward, keep stepping one step in another. One day at a time. But life always seemed to have a bit more room for her to breathe in when she was in Novus. Here she was, rebuilding herself up. Here, she could keep trying. Here, she could try to get better, to move on, to be stronger, and perhaps here, one day; she could smile and mean it. One day the pain would be a distant memory.

One day she could just live.

It was getting easier at times, but she still guarded her heart as she always would. But as she took a few steps through the sand, she felt just a little better, a little brighter to be back here, where she had those who cared for her, who knew her history, knew where she came from, could see when she needed a day of distraction, or just a shoulder to lean on. And here, she could hide in her medic duties, could help others still. Here, she could fly through the air and just be happy. Here, it was just a little better.

It made Novus home.

She kicked off from the sand, wings fluttering as she headed further into the beach, glancing around and just breathing in the Novus air. She'd make her way back to the Night Court later, but for now, some time to soak in the sun and relaxing on the ocean breeze would be nice. Her wings fluttered, leaving a light trail of glittering, iridescent fairy dust in her wake as the mare breathed in softly, soaking up the scent, the sounds of Novus.

It was good being home.

"Speech"
Thoughts
@Sparrow
Notes: And Caelum is back on Novus soil.