Open Arriving

[Maro]

Arriving 13th of Winter, 514 AV Maro had spent most of the day making Soulmist. It was taxing, but he didn’t mind, especially with Autumn there to distract him. She had been getting increasingly better at that over the previous couple of weeks. Now, merely her presence was enough to make his mind lose focus. There had been several failed batches of the Soulmist for that reason, but the distractions were worth the failures. Already adding to the ghostly white of the marble walls of his house, the entire apartment was covered in flour, and there were patches all around where his feet stuck to the floor and his skin peeled slowly away each time he stepped. Those areas were golden brown and dusted in white, a tribute to the honey he used in his own recipe for Soulmist. Slimy and sticky clumps of egg and dough were squished up between his toes and lodged there. Yes. The day had been adventurous and exciting, even though they had never stepped foot outside. Maro had bought all the supplies he had needed the day before, so he wouldn’t have to go out at all until he and Autumn would go to the Tower of the Dead to join others in observance of the Arriving Night. The first of these interruptions came while Maro was meditating on his third batch of Soulmist. The first two had gone perfectly, and he had produced the two best batches he had ever made to date. Autumn had sampled them and told him so. Deep in his black sand beach meditation, Maro was controlling his physical self by taking focused, filling breaths. Suddenly something entered his lungs at the beginning of an inhale and he sputtered and coughed. Almost immediately, he was back in the present, in the room of his marble home, and away from the peace of the meditation. Something tickled his nose, and he sneezed, sending up a white cloud from around his face. Autumn was laughing, still holding the empty bowl that had once contained the flour that now covered his face and torso. Maro coughed again, and a second smaller cloud rose around him, filling the air with a white haze. He tried to act angry but could only hold his glare for a moment before a smile broke across his face and he joined her laughter. When he had regurgitated the dough, it was still just dough, partly digested and reeking of bile. He tried again, successfully this time. It wasn’t until his seventh attempt at Soulmist that the second distraction came. In his meditation, there was always a storm brewing far out to sea, but suddenly he was being rained on. He snapped out of his meditation just in time to see Autumn dump the bowl of water over his head that she had only been trickling on him before. The dusting of flour that coated his body quickly became a thick paste. Standing, he flung some flour at Autumn, and she laughed as it just flew through her. She flung some back at him, but her lack of skill at manipulating the physical world made it fly wide. As she continued to assault him with dough and he evaded around the room, his footsteps mixed the water and flour on the ground to create the dough that got mashed up between his toes. Damn it, she could be distracting. When he settled back into a meditation after that batch failed, he tried to settle into his rehearsed meditation, but it wouldn’t come. Autumn’s beauty kept distracting him, and all he could see in his mind’s eye was her face. That attempt failed but brought an idea to Maro’s mind. Rather than try to push Autumn’s visage from his head, he held it there, concentrating on all its wonderful detail and remembering the heart and mind that dwelled beyond it. His next four batches worked perfectly. He would have continued, but they had run out of supplies for dough, unless he wanted to scrape it off the floor. Satisfied with what he had done, Maro gathered his vials of Soulmist together and waited for Syna to sink lower in the sky.

[Traverse]

C
Black Rock was not ordinarily a noisy place, yet on this day everyone was quiet as they awaited the night to come. The aura of the island was subdued, hushed. Barely any foot traffic on the numerous walkways, and people who crossed paths might make eye contact, but not say a word. There was a reverence and mood of preparation that blanketed the Rock of Living and Dead, in its entirety.

Sampson had become ensconced in the holidays of the island, this 'Arriving Night' in particular. As Syna kissed the ocean's horizon he was out of his temporary living quarters in the Dormitories and making the short climb up to the clear pavilion where all the events would be held. Tucked beneath his arm was a leather pouch containing many vials of Soulmist.

Ghosts arrived before most, floating, walking, hovering, but not before the 2 dozen or so Omens that stood in their flowing black cloaks and cryptic masts in a semi circle around the Tower of the Dead, their mysterious forms growing ever more so as shadows lengthen and the little light starts to disappear.

One by one, mostly silent save for the soft breeze of whispers, Ghosts and living alike ascend in droves. Shortly after Sampson settled in a kneeling position in front of the tower, Chastity and Bernard come up together, not as invested in the strange ritual, yet not wanting to shirk the traditions of their new found home. Bernard comes equipped with charcoal and paper to write something...he is still unsure what.

The rasp of scales can be heard as a few Dhani slither up to make their appearance, and despite the tensions that flare between them and the Myrians of the Isle, not a single glare is thrown one way or another on this night of reverence.

Darkness overtakes everything, and still a thin yet steady stream of individuals make their way to the tower, the vigil beginning...
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[Maro]

Arriving The sun was setting when Maro and Autumn left their home and headed up toward the Tower of the Dead, the Watchtower casting its blue light out in sharp contrast to the burning oranges, pinks, reds, and purples of sunset. After their antics with creating Soulmist, they spent the rest of the day in relative silence. Both meditated, preparing their hearts and minds for the upcoming night and all the amazing things it would hold. Autumn faded away to nothing more than a glimmer, as if the air were water and she was the reflection of the sun off a ripple. As they wandered upward, Autumn remained subdued, her form still nothing more than a shimmering light. There was no body in the form, just light, and Maro was amazed at how she could still make something so simple so beautiful. When they walked into the open area at the base of the Watchtower though, Autumn finally ended her brief humility and materialized fully in a burst of color and light. She wore a white dress that had been a favorite of hers while living. It was white with beautiful floral patterns embroidered in green all about. There was still a part of her that enjoyed showing off her beauty. He followed her in. Already, Maro was beginning to feel tired. It was late in the day, and the effort of making Soulmist had taken most of his energy. With the preparatory meditation, some strength had returned, but he still hadn’t eaten all day. Still, that didn’t matter. Tonight was Autumn’s night. As a ghost, Autumn never slept which meant she spent every night just waiting for morning to come and Maro to wake up. So Maro saw it fit to forsake sleep for at least one night every year, just for Autumn’s sake. When he wandered deeper into the large group of people waiting to greet the ghosts everyone knew would come, he spotted some friendly faces. Reaching out to Autumn, he gestured for her to follow him. He whispered, so as not to ruin the contemplative, solemn mood, “Come with me. There’s someone I want you to meet, actually several someones.” Sampson saw Maro as the Kelvic approached, smiled warmly, and offered his hand in greeting. Maro returned the smile and shook Sampson’s hand. “Sampson, there’s someone I’d like you to meet. This is Autumn. Autumn, this is Sampson.” With how much he had told them about each other over the last week and a half, Maro was surprised it had taken him this long to introduce them. He hoped that the two would like each other and that Chastity and Bernard would feel the same about Autumn as he felt about them. With only a few short conversations, the three new arrivals to Black Rock had already garnered themselves a friendship with Maro.

[Traverse]

C
A few hushed greetings and conversation was shared, but for the most part the flat area surrounding Dira's Temple, though slowly filling with the Isle's inhabitants, was quite silent. Sampson glanced over, taking a moment to recognize Maro, and then his features broke into an easy smile, Chastity and Bernard drawing up just after Maro had introduced Autumn.

The older man gave a respectful bow, his smile remaining, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Autumn, Maro has told us much about you." Chastity eyes her ghostly competition for beauty with a calculated eye, but gave the politest of smiles. Bernard offering a quick greeting and the smallest glimmer of a smile himself.

Once initial introductions were given Sampson continued, "Have you brought any gifts with you Maro?" His smile shrank to a conspiratorial expression as he tapped the breast of his jacket where the Kelvic could hear a slight clinking of vials as Sampson tapped it twice. "I am very interested to see the influx of dead upon this night. I wonder why of all times many choose to come here now upon this night. This island has a strange harmony to it I've found, perhaps Arriving Night is a culmination of that."

"Have you come to these nights many times?" Chastity asks, glancing around to the growing crowd as the sunlight disappears altogether, sconces around the square being lit to replace the last glimmers of light that will soon too face.
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[Maro]

Arriving Maro revealed the contents of his basket, then gave an answer to Sampson’s pondering. “There is a harmony here, something that goes beyond the natural, and tonight, it can’t just be explained by Dira’s influence. There is something more, something from when the Arriving Night first began. They say it is Priskil’s night, Her way of bringing Her light to the darkness. Death can seem dark, especially elsewhere where ghosts aren’t easily accepted. Priskil draws them here to show them there is hope. Hope is not just for the living.” Chastity shifted herself between Sampson and Maro, flashing a smile. Her movement bought her everyone’s attention, intentionally or not no one knew, but she did so in such a way that it just seemed natural. Her eyes swept over the people around them. “Have you come to these nights many times?” Maro shook his head. “No. Only twice before.” Autumn laughed at him. “You make it sound as if you hardly ever come. You’ve been alive three years, Maro. There hasn’t been a single Arriving Night that you have missed.” To everyone else, she added, “Maro has been sweet enough to accompany me to the Arriving Night the past two years, but he hasn’t been much for company. Both times, he was asleep before midnight. Still, it makes it less lonely than it has been before he was around. I’ve been coming since the year before I died.” The light of dusk was fading quickly, and in the growing darkness, Priskil’s light atop the tower seemed to glow brighter by the moment, casting a blue glimmer far out over the sea. Autumn turned to Chastity, excited to have another woman around, someone who might understand her point of view. “Are you excited for what this night will bring?” With Autumn and Chastity in their own conversation, Maro focused on Sampson. An experienced spiritist like him would certainly have a lot he could teach Maro, so the Kelvic made a note to watch Sampson closely tonight. “Are you ready for this?” Maro asked. He pointed out into the darkness where the light began to fade. Out over the sea, a lone figure could be seen treading slowly above the waves toward the Watchtower. “The first ghost is arriving.”

[Traverse]

C
The Watchtower's light began to pulse, starting off as the faintest hint of blue, light in the otherwise darkness. From there is grew to be a shining beacon, powerful and luminescent, yet strangely, one could gaze upon it with little to no discomfort.

What little conversation had been taking place within the courtyard still entirely, some people glancing up, many more shifting or floating to peer out over the Ocean and watch the newcomers arrive.

Alone the first entity arrived, heralded by the opening flare of the Watchtower, translucent, and looking more than a little unsure. She appeared as an aging woman in a long flowing skirt with hair bundled neatly atop her head, details slowly coming into focus as she rose from the Ocean to the peak of the Isle. Arms, living and passed on alike reached out for her, whispers of encouragement and welcome spreading around.

Sampson had two fingers on his lips as he watched the proceedings from a comfortable distance away, He still had a smile on his face from Maro's word, and to his question he had only nodded, one swift, confident movement.

"I have heard that at different times sometimes more or less Ghosts appear, and that this new moon is perhaps the most common of Arriving Nights, is that true?"

His fingers slid into his jacket, causing muffled clinking as he slid out a singular vial of Soulmist, faintly glowing. A lull happened after the first arrival, a pause as she approached the other ghosts of the isle, and floated wistfully towards the Omens standing in front of the entrance to Dira's Tower.

Then everyone's attention was drawn back to the Ocean as a steady stream of ethereal bodies began to make their way over the black waves. Sampson looked down at his eagerly removed vial a bit bashfully. "I suppose I will have more than a few chances to share this with the newcomers, won't I?" He smiled at Maro, and though Maro couldn't quite place it...he had a strange feeling that he was being watched.

oocApologies Maro, I know this thread hasn't moved super fast, but I didn't mean to take so long with my response
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