Open A Festival of Hearts

[Madeira Dusk]

22nd of Spring, 521

Whatever might be said about the Diamond of Kalea, they knew how to throw a party.

Surya Plaza was alive with the humming energy of hundreds of people. The wedding ceremony they had come to witness was over, and now the dual nature of Lhavit was on full display as reverent prayers turned to shouts of joy. Now the festivities could truly begin.

The stage where the brides had exchanged vows had been converted with a sweep of a talented hand into the setting of the Spinning Glimmers wild performance. Flammable vegetation and symbolic white drapery were exchanged for flaming torches and tiered platforms for their glittering dancers. Colored lanterns and fire dancers cut great swaths out of the slowly gathering dusk until it seemed the entire Plaza must for tonight be just as bright as the stars the city worship. But no stars could make such a racket as this. Musicians played to exuberant and vocal crowds, astonished cheers punctuated every miraculous move the Glimmers made, and servers weaved through the tides of people holding aloft trays of extravagant food and confections and an endless flow of drinks. Streamers and banners hung from between eaves and above every doorway, and artists lined the streets with dazzling paintings and sculptures that looked half alive in the flickering lights. This was a night of extravagance, to drink and dance and sing in praise of love in all its many forms while the sky above them was clear and cool and alight with the first twinkling of stars. It was a perfect night for a wedding.

Yet underneath the joyful current of the party small pockets of muttering pulled like an undertow. Maliciously gleeful packs of teenage girls, tutting rich socialites and all those close enough to see the vows all wondered the same thing: why was there no mark upon the wedded pair? The Cheva mark was the universal sign of marriage across all races and cultures. Was it even a marriage without one? What could have possibly happened for a goddess of love to refuse to mark the Dusk couple?

Whatever the answer, it didn’t change the fact that there were dances to be danced, songs to be sung and a celebration to be had. The entire Plaza was drunk off of wine and love, crisp mountain air ferried the scent of flowers through the press of people as they laughed and danced or snuck off to quiet corners together.

Madeira Dusk, a bride resplendent in white and silver, threaded her way in and out of the crowd sinuously, gracefully, with a basket of yellow flowers and a bright smile. She offered a bloom to anyone that approached her, giving them all the traditional Heart’s Festival token of friendship. In return she asked for small boons. From old women she asked for advice on love and marriage, from children she asked for luck and well wishes, from young men she asked for a single kiss on the back of her gloved hand.

This was her city, this was her night, and even a Goddess wasn’t going to stop her from enjoying the fruits of her labors. So she laughed and danced, trading flowers for kisses and well-wishes, dripping in social grace and the ferocious confidence of a woman who wanted to be seen.

Cheeks bright with dance and drink, holding a yellow rose to her bridal dress, Madeira looked to offer friendship to another stranger.

x

[Ayosel]

Wrapped in a short linen dress dyed deep, velvety red, Ayosel thought she suited the environment. Another new experience for her to enjoy, the Iyvess was currently taking a breather from vigorous dancing to admire the sight of others twirling and celebrating and sharing flowers among one another. The dhani herself had not yet received flowers and though she held a bundle of four she hadn't given out any yet either. She was taking it in, honestly. The vitality, the laughter, the sunlight, they way everything seemed so open and free (and despite the lingering agoraphobia of having lived in a cave for all her life she wasn't all too uncomfortable).

Brushing her hair out of her face and tying it into a knot at the back of her head, braided clumsily due to haste and unfamiliarity, Ayosel tried to remember what the event was.

Not Syna worship, though the bright colours would say otherwise; silvery yellows and cold reds and faded scarlet oranges, she thought it all looked very festive for the god of sunlight in her cheery distant personage. Even flashing a smile to the sun, though it helped her face warm up, she felt that now was not the time to thank her for the lovely festivities.

A part of her remembered that the festival was city-wide and preparations had been ongoing for the better part of the last few days. She'd not come out of the Red Lantern much during that time but from her brief sojourns at night and the chatter of her house-mates she'd come to understand that this was expected, a yearly tradition observed on this one day in spring.

She also remembered that there was talk of a wedding though she'd certainly not gone to that. Weddings were not even uncommon in the nest, Ayosel had only ever seen chevas markings in passing, and she didn't put as much stock in it as seemed the Lhavit people did. She'd heard the gossip, after all. She found it quite titillating despite the personal belief that it was unimportant.

Huffing, feeling only just a touch of yawning hunger under overall contentment, Ayosel looked back to the frolicking and considered another bout. She loved to dance and was feeling a bit high in spirits, refreshed, alive.

It might rain tomorrow, if she felt so inclined to move for Makutsi.

Her attention caught by Madeira resplendent in her white and silver, Ayosel caught sight of the basket with a bounty of yellow-silver flowers and hopped up, seeing her opportunity. She offered one out to the bride, vaguely recognizing her from the many faces she'd seen today, and offered sincere congratulations on the marriage with a yellow flower in hand.

**dress cost from the silk palace : base for short dress (3 sq yards of cotton, dyed) 22.50 kina , short dress 00.80 kina. added together 22.50 + .80 = 23.30 kina aka 23 kina and 3 topaz kina. please check my maths.

[Madeira Dusk]

Madeira’s first thought, as a woman she didn’t know approached her holding a yellow flower, was the realization that in all her years in this city this was the first time she had received a flower at a Hearts Festival. The Spiritist was strangely touched, and taken aback just enough to register that she was being congratulated on her marriage, but not what the stranger had actually said.

Madeira’s second thought was legs.

The stranger was tall for a woman, slender limbs rising up and up until they disappeared beneath the hem of a dress too short to be traditionally fashionable in Lhavit. The stormy grey eyes under her severe brows were reflecting the lantern light in a kaleidoscope of colour, flashing between red and yellow as the scene around them changed tick by tick. There was something intense about being under those eyes, like their attention was something that would cut if it fell on you.

“Thank you very much.” Madeira accepted the bloom with a smile and lifted it to her face, inhaling the fresh scent even as she studied the woman over the petals. “You’re not from around here, are you?” Something about the way the woman was dressed and the way she spoke, though it was too noisy to quite pick out the accent, seemed to all point away from the mountain city. “Neither am I. Do they dance where you come from?”

She should be exchanging platitudes with this stranger like she had all the others. Just interact with her enough to charm her and then move on. But there was something vivid and alive in her flashing eyes that was telling her to stay.

The music that was ebbing and flowing with the party struck a new beat, much to the vocal approval of the crowd. A pocket of which turned to each other and began to dance in a whirl of flowing dresses and robes.

Madeira tucked the flower she’d been given behind her ear and held her basket out behind her. The Shinya that had been discreetly following the bride for security purposes took it automatically, and then looked rather miffed about it. She would come back for them later. Her purpose here was to make a good impression on this city, that hadn’t changed. But this was still a festival, and there was nothing a former Avalad loved more than a festival. She was going to take a chime to celebrate it.

“Dance with me.” It was not a request. She took the woman by the hand and tried to coax her deeper into the throng, backing into the dancing crowd that was quick to make room for the bride in white.

x

[Ayosel]

Looking at her--Dusk, Ayosel thought her name might have been?--she radiated a cool energy, calm, distant. With how the woman had flitted from person to person, Ayosel would have thought her untouchable. In her element. She might be made of marble were there not Ethaefal in attendance, actual people who more resembled statues than men. No, hers was a different sort of something that Ayosel couldn't put her finger on. It must simply be the festivities; everything seemed brighter when there was laughter and love to go around.

"Falyndar," she explained by means of introducing her home. She'd not say the nest; it hardly mattered right now, unimportant in the spirit of the occasion, and she had grown a little weary of the raised brow that came with explaining her dhani heritage. "Not like this, but they do," she laughed.

Placing aside her own flowers with one hand grasped by the Dusk woman, Ayosel let herself be steered into the throng of moving bodies. She loved to dance, lived for it, and all it took was this gentle but insistent coaxing to get her back out there. Ayosel could forget about the ache of tired legs if it meant having people to dance with.

When Ayosel began to move it was not far different from how snakes did, fluid motions rising up her body from her feet into her core. She had a rain dance, one taught her by Makutsi, and when her gnosis pulsed as she began the motions of her rain dance, Ayosel let the divine energy settle in her stomach into a pool of motion. She did not move into the lissome motions of her rain dance but pulled instead from the snake dances of Zinrah where constrictors writhed together in revelry. Ayosel was the larger one in this dynamic and acutely aware of her newfound companion's height so when she coaxed Madeira into the sway of her people she did it as the leading hand.

[Jomi]

The Surya plaza was alight with the colors and sounds of celebration. The wedding décor was steadily being replaced with festive banners and stalls selling food, drink, and other delights to amuse the festival-goers. In the spirit of Love day couples old and young alike walked hand in hand drinking in the sights and each other's company. A line of booths had been quickly erected along the edge of the plaza. And one booth, nestled quietly between the topiaries, had piqued the wandering soul's interest. The simple wood frame draped in a deep purple cloth embroidered in stars kept with the usual Lhavit style, but the wares being sold differed from the usual fare. Collections of miscellaneous fortune-teller junk were spaced out neatly for any curious customer to come inspect: mismatched cups and saucers, casting bones, intricately inked cards, as well as the sort of spooky crap Madeira seemed so fond of.

"I like this thing here," Jomi leaned over the counter, his calloused, Bloodstone-illusion hands reaching up to swat at the charms hanging from the eves of the stall. "Is that human bone?"

The ceremony had ended, Madeira and Chiona were officially hitched. Now people were lined up to congratulate the happy couple, arms laden with gifts to sweeten their favor to the future head of the Dusk tower. And Jomi, unused to human courtship rituals, didn't want to be the only one left out.

A withered crone seated behind the counter didn't bother to answer him. Slumped in her chair, arms crossed and head lolling on her chest, she might have been asleep. Or possibly dead. Either way, she showed no interest in the raging party or the potential customer.

Jomi waved his hand over her face. The shadow of his arm in the lamplight passed over her rapidly, flicking little beams of colored light over her eyes. His efforts couldn't illicit so much as a twitch from the elderly shopkeep.

"Well," he smiled cruelly, tucking his long hair behind his ear. "Don't mind if I do."

He took a quick tick to look over the display before deciding on what he wanted. With one eye trained on the proprietor, Jomi encased his prize in a thick layer of soulmist. The box had caught Jomi's eye immediately. The polished ebony glowed in the lamplight, and the words embossed in gold on the lid flashed prettily. Had he been a touch more literate, he might have noticed the painted gold spelled 'Truth Tea'. But to the unlearned Kelvic ghost the intricately carved box just seemed like a suitably mysterious gift for a death-obsessed mage.

With an unusually delicate touch, the ghost palmed the box. Lowering it beneath the table and out of the sight in order to press against his thigh. Turning casually the ghost sauntered away from the sleeping crone and her table of trinkets.

Once turned and his face no longer in her line of sight the ghost allowed himself smug grin. He walked away with a slight spring in his step, pleased with himself and his gift.

"You be careful with that."

Surprise caused the elaborate soulmist constructed body to tighten reflexively. The fake tendons in Jomi's neck jumped in sharp relief as the old woman's voice drifted from her relaxed position, still slumped back in her chair.

"Honesty can get you killed. But I suppose...That's not going to be a problem anymore." The hag cackled cryptically. The sound sent the ghosts soulmist crawling as he held back on his reflexive urge to blink himself away. His soulmist tightened around the box as he kept his eyes trained forwards. Now all the more eager to dump his elicit goods on his Master.

...........

The crowded plaza seemed to vibrate with energy as the musicians began to play in earnest. Colors swirled together in a mass of waving skirts and robes during the vigorous dance. Each garment more intricate than the last as Lhavitians took the opportunity to show off their finery. Jomi circled the party, careful to stay out of arms reach of the revelers, his eyes strained for a flash of white between the press of bodies.

Not that he had to look too hard. An elegant, pure white ballgown decked out in jewels had a tendency to draw ones eye. But so did the one Madeira was dancing with. Coal black hair that so closely mirrored his own swept around her shoulders as she moved. The short cut of her dress worked well to show off her legs and the graceful rolling motions of her dance. She seemed to lose herself in the music, allowing her body to move as it pleased. Dropping her guard just in time for a opportunistic ghost to notice.

Jomi lacked any sort of subtlety or finesse in his possessions. His power was one of brute strength and surprise. Tossing the black box in Madeira's basket of flowers Jomi blinked through the crowd and entered the dark woman's body from the center of her back. Jomi quickly set to work, capitalizing on her shock to absorb his soulmist into her muscle fibers and wrap himself in her skin. Pulling at her astral body with a practiced hand and enmeshing himself fluidly into her very being as Jomi took over the dance without missing a step.

"Dancing with another woman on your wedding night?" The snake woman loomed over Madeira as they danced, her smile turned wolfish. "How indecent."

[Madeira Dusk]

Not like this, the stranger had said. Madeira hadn't realized how honest she was being.

The woman seemed to soak into the music for a moment, letting its rhythm twist in her ankles and up to her core. Then when she did move it was as if she was feeling it more than hearing it. Suddenly the Spiritist found herself thrust into a liquid, serpentine dance her severely corseted waist and heavy skirt was in no way prepared for.

Madeira was used to two kinds of dances: the kind that existed in chaos as if each person was dancing to a completely different song, and the kind that utilized a square foot of space and required holding your partner at an appropriately awkward distance. This was neither. It was sensual and feminine and completely new.

Madeira had to make an active effort to give in to it, her ridged posture softening by degrees. She relied heavily on her partner to lead the way, studying the way she was moving and swaying with her. Completely giving up on her precious control she sank into this new experience.

Though even as distracted as she was, she didn't miss the signs of the sudden possession. It wasn't much, just a twitch in the hand that was holding hers, the way her eyes rolled away before snapping back. But she had been at this game far too long to be fooled by even a master possessor, and there was only one ghost who dared to talk to her like that.

"Jomi", Madeira's teeth bared around the lingering vowel in a bright smile. At once her shoulders straightened, her posture collapsing back into its taught rigidity. "I'm so sorry you could make it."

After long years together it was difficult for the ghost to get a rise out of her anymore. But there was something about the conspicuously empty space below her collar bone that made his cruel little joke about her fidelity ring through her like a struck wire.

The dance changed as the former Kanasian moved into the kind of dancing he was more comfortable with. And Madeira fell into step easily with the more familiar partner. As he loomed over her she rose onto her toes in order to get right in his face. Cupping her fingers gently under the woman's jaw and pressing on her chin with her thumb, Madeira managed to tuck the woman's chin against her throat and force Jomi to look up in order to meet her eye. She met his wolfish smile with something gently furious.

"Back off, dearest. This is a new dress, I'd hate to get dust all over it."

Nobody seemed to have noticed the little exchange. Madeira released his face and fell back to her heels and let herself be steered around the other dancers.

"It's quite the party though, isn't it? " she smiled, letting the anger dissipate. "But just because you can't find a dance partner doesn't mean you can steal mine. Go make trouble somewhere else and leave this poor woman alone."

x

[Ayosel]

Ayosel delighted in dancing with the newlywed Dusk, coaxing as much as commandeering her into the tribal rhythms of her ferocious homeland and mindful not to send her onto the ground in a spill of white and furious. No, the dhani was nearly charmed by how the woman loosened up as they moved together in participation of something Ayosel would fondly describe as a snake dance, all flowing motions and sinuous strides and rolling bodies, more than a standout among the stuffier dances partaken by the locals.

She thought to compliment her partner on stepping up to the challenge she thought this to be for her; the gown couldn't lend itself to the kicks and lunges and Ayosel had no idea about the cinched corset further limiting her range of motion (and air intake, she'd think if she knew). It was darling how the woman tried though--

And then, as if a bucket of ice cold water had doused her whole self, djed and soul included, Ayosel was taken by a ghost.

It was a swift possession, washing over her awareness in the same breadth of moment as a rubber band snaps, her fingers twitching against Madeira's own as if she thought to fight off an assailant with clawed fingers before her hand, her whole being, was simply not hers anymore.

The experience awoke something not too unlike horror in the dhani, fear of the unknown and possibilities stirring in the instinctual serpent mindset nurtured by Siku long ago when she crafted the breed in her likening. Ayosel could still feel with her hands the way that Madeira was taken into a new dance by the thing controlling her body. She could hear the words spoken even if, for the moment, they lacked meaning beneath the unexpected tide of fear that came with losing control of oneself. She knew that this conversation meant something, that the new bride knew what this was and wasn't calling attention to it, but she felt nothing other than the crushing realization that she was not...

The realization that Ayosel might not even be able to trust her own body to not turn on her without warning was far more important than the words exchanged at hand. If Jomi had any knowledge of what she was thinking and even feeling, if she had any influence over her body while in his possession, her heart would be pounding and her ears would be ringing and she would be possessed by her own singular need to defend herself in a moment of blind panic.

In time Ayosel would calm, just a little bit, to begin calculating what this was and why it was happening but for the time being she was but a bystander, an unwilling third wheel, to an uncomfortably stiff dance.

ooc!I've never worked with possession before. Rate my driving.

[Jomi]

"I'm so sorry you could make it."

"Hmm, liar." Jomi pulled the stiff newlywed around in a new dance. Transitioning from the loose, sensual dance of her previous partner into the straight backed line dance he'd seen at the Kenesh plantations. The ghost did his best to be mindful of his hosts unwieldily limbs as the heeled shoes stepped delicately around Madeira's own, only making contact with the brides shin's twice as they got up in each others faces like posturing geese.

"Don't act like you weren't waiting for me to save you from this 'new Dusk show-and-tell'." Jomi laughed, the ringing bell tones of the Dani woman's voice were so different from his own. The ghost smiled cruelly as the sound cut though the constant din of the crowd. "You'd be lost if there weren't constant destruction for you to control."

Jomi could feel the dark haired woman's soul writhe and strain against it's invader. Living souls were much stronger than their dead conterparts. But the living that were inexperienced with possession tended to throw around that strength carelessly, allowing a crafty spirit the opportunity to take hold of the astral body as long as they could wether the force of a panicked and desperate host. But even the most powerful or experienced ghost would have to fight with all they had just to stay in control.

"It's quite the party though, isn't it? But just because you can't find a dance partner doesn't mean you can steal mine. Go make trouble somewhere else and leave this poor woman alone."

"Ha! You know as well as I do that I could make anyone dance if they're sloshed enough." Jomi pulled at his hosts astral layer, plucking the strings like a harp as he directed her to release Madeira's hands and forced the body to do a tight spin. The ghost could feel the woman heart beat rapidly, the sound ringing in their shared ears as Jomi forced his host into an abrupt stop with the unsettling look of epiphany etched on her face.

"Actually, that's not a bad idea."

Jomi tore his way out of his dark and mysterious host. His soulmist began pouring out of her eyes and mouth and lifting off her muscle tissues as he worked to detangled himself from her astral body. The resident soul rushed to fill the void he left as the ghost collected himself in front of the two women. The red stone imbedded in his right hand flashed a bright red as it supplemented Jomi's own materialization creating a true to life imitation of his previous living body.

Once fully formed the ghost hooked a ribbon of his soulmist around the black wooden box still resting atop the flower basket being held by a miffed Shinya. Dropping it in Madeira's hand whether she was prepared for it or not.

"I suppose I'll take your suggestion, and go make trouble somewhere else." Jomi declared triumphtly, turning to Madeira's dark hair companion he blew her his sweetest kiss before blinking away.

"Thanks for the dance."

[Madeira Dusk]

Madeira hated that look. As Jomi released her hands and spun away, she saw the woman's lips pull back and thin out in a wild smile that just screamed 'bastard with a plan'. No matter who's face it happened to be on, the expression was pure Jomi. As he exited his host, materializing between them and blocking Madeira's view of the woman's reaction at being so suddenly back in control, the Spiritist merely sighed. The ghost could be coerced, redirected, and compelled, but he could not be stopped. He dropped the mysterious gift in her hands and blinked away, and she had no choice but to let him go. He was just going to have to be someone else's problem for a few bells.

"Easy, easy, are you okay?" Madeira stepped through the last dissipating swirls of soulmist and caught her partner by the elbow to steady her. The box she shoved into the pocket of her dress to deal with later.

"Here, lets find somewhere to sit. Have you ever been possessed before? You might be a little bit sore and shaky but it won't last." With one hand oh the woman's elbow and another pressing gently on her back she steered her to one of the many stone benches that ringed the Plaza. Once she was seated she flagged down a server and pressed a flute of champagne into the woman's hand. Guess it was too much to ask for water at a festival. "I'm sorry about this. I'd say that ghost means no harm, but he definitely does. Give your soul a moment to recover."

Madeira sat down beside her, the wide skirt of her dress greedily consuming the rest of the bench not otherwise occupied. From its pocket she drew out Jomi's 'gift' for a better look while her partner recovered from the soul trauma. It was a handsome black lacquer thing embossed with gold, and labeled Truth Tea in elaborate cursive. Peaking inside it was clear at least half of that title was true. It looked like normal black tea, with a curling aroma of lemons lifting from the leaves. There was a little card inside. Madeira fished it out with her fingertips and read it by the red light of the paper lantern above them.

Compeller and truth-teller. Liar beware, one sip and you'll be laid bare.

Well, isn't that ominous.

With effort she activated her djed, bringing it forward and letting it sit passive in her eyes. Her pale brow furrowed and her gaze slid in and out of focus before she could catch a glimmer of an aura. It wasn't much, and she didn't truly understand what she was seeing, but she did understand the size of it. The aura radiated several centimeters from the tea, easily three times what a mundane object would produce. The tea was definitely a magic item.

She let her concentration go and blinked the watery strain out of her eyes. As she slid the box back into the folds of her skirt she wondered if Jomi had any idea what he'd given her.

Glancing sideways at her partner she noticed a tattoo under her jaw, the black ink stark against her pale skin. It was a snake coiled around a drop of water, or perhaps a tear. Madeira wondered what the significance was.

"I'll admit that was a disaster of a first impression." A rather strained laugh huffed from her chest. "I hope you'll let me start over. I'm Madeira Dusk", she offered. The name sounded unfamiliar on her lips, but the weight of it made her smile.

OOC :

+Truth Tea

x

[Ayosel]

When Ayosel came back into herself, her first recognizable sensation was that of pins and needles everywhere, palms to crown to stomach to shoulders. She wanted to scratch the feeling out, not sure if it was the same sensation as wearing too-tight clothes for too long or not. The second recognizable sensation was that of Madeira's voice, soothingly placating newly frayed nerves with the ineffable calm of someone more experienced to their screaming.

Ayosel wanted to twist away from the hand that felt suddenly too invasive, to lash out in the blind fear of being suddenly and wholly overwhelmed and subjugated in her own body, but she more or less relied on that touch to ground her. She recognized the woman and flashed the ghost of a fragile smile. "Possession's new," she managed to say, incapable of putting words to the still unsettling sensation rolling around under her skin. Ayosel wished to sink into a form with scales and coils to soothe the discomfort. "Can't say I like it much."

She followed the gentle instruction of Madeira Dusk and took a seat, a mite more stiffly than she would have liked to. At least it was firm, solid, certainly there under her bare hand when she touched it. In one hand she clutched the flute of champagne and looked at it as if she'd never seen its like before, draining it a moment later and smacking her lips with a thoughtful grimace. Water would have been preferable but the taste of alcohol, in any amount, was a bitter balm regardless.

"Do ghosts do that often?" She asked once she'd had a moment to ground herself out of what might have otherwise been sweaty palms and heaving chest; how embarrassing to choke like that in front of a newlywed at her own (and the city's) festival. She thought about the boy she'd met with his ghost companion and wrinkled her nose in dismay.

"Otherwise lovely to know you, Madeira Dusk," said the dhani, sighing with a drawn out hiss and a lick of her tongue to the back of her teeth. "Ayosel." Just Ayosel, it should be clear.