Closed Carnival of Words.

[Albireo]

“Another day in this carnival of souls Another night settles in as quickly as it goes.” Spring 15, 513 AV. For ten days the parchment had been pinned to the front desk in the entrance area of Bharani Library. A few words were written on it in clean and cursive handwriting and thick black ink. Everyone who visited would notice it right after entering and before speaking to the clerk. The writing said: Writing Circle You want to write, but don’t know how? Get your stories and thoughts on paper, but can’t find the words? Let’s chase them together! Meet me one bell after noon rest, Spring 15, Bharani Library. Please bring your own writing tools. “It is good for practice and our reputation”, Polaris had agreed. The smile hiding in the corners of his mouth suggested amusement of a different kind though. Perhaps he took it as an excuse. Dressed in white robes, Suria had occupied and cleared a reading desk at the back of the library for her purpose. The distance from shelves and other tables was big enough to not disturb other readers, yet small enough to embrace and enjoy the atmosphere of quiet learning. Two ink sticks and a leather-bound journal marked the desk for the meeting. As did, of course, the short Vantha girl sitting in front of it, jet-black hair collected in a ponytail and rainbow eyes dipped in murky darkness. Had people noticed? Were they interested? Would they understand what she was trying to say? Words were fickle and hard to control, even when written down. Anyway, if visitors interested in the writing circle arrived, the clerk would point them into the direction of her desk. Twiddling her thumbs, Suria reminded herself that one person had to come at least: Johanne, the girl she had met through one of her stories two seasons ago. A written invitation had asked her to practice writing together. Like the parchment on the front desk, it had been written carefully and in handwriting leaning towards calligraphy. While the content wasn’t wrapped in riddles for once, the writing carried its own message in itself. “The memories of shadows, ink on the page And I can’t seem to find my way home.” Far From Home by Five Finger Death Punch

[Lu Gavima]

Lu often walked the five peaks during the day, when he did not have to report or meditate. He had seen the notice at the Library several times, taking several days to toss it around in his mind. How would writing practice help him? His mother's calligraphy seemed more of an art form, whereas the extent of his writing was note taking or signing things.

However, he also wanted to excel in his meditations to Wysar, which required a full portrait of a man, including some sort of education. Martial skill and strategy was surely not enough to earn any attention from such a God. He also had the book he had borrowed from the bartender during his patrols the night before. It seemed like to good an opportunity not to take the offering of time when it was given. So, after a fitful rest period at noon, Lu made his way toward the Bharani and uncertainty. He had taken a book, quill and ink from the meditation library,as he saw his actions as something which could only help the City. Education.

Dressed in his only clothes outside of his usual uniform, Lu stepped up to the desk, asking about the writing workshop. With a combination of intrigue and suspicion, the clerk directed him. The smooth shimmer of his silver tunic gleamed under the candlelight, the embroidered stars alive with an animated glow. Arriving to find a peculiar but striking girl, he placed his materials and the book in an appropriate place near her.

Standing beside his seat, he bowed to the girl. "Hello, I am Prot--I mean Lu Gavima, of the Shinya. Is this where the class is?" His eyes seemed to follow her own, an amazing display of shifting hues. Smiling as best as he could, he enjoyed the show for the moment.

[Quiarinox]

"I'm here as well." Quiarinox spoke aloud to the two people currently arrayed at the table, joining them with a bag slung over her shoulder with her own things from home. Her goals here were simple; she wanted to better her writing and reading, since her level currently was basic, even rudimentary and illegible. She could do with some actual tutouring in the fine art of weilding a quill. She supposed it was best to do it with others, as well. "I am Quiarinox. This is where we meet for the writing session, correct?" In such a group, she wanted to appear as dignified and poised as she could. Humans though her company may be, she had no desire to let them think they were her equals completely. She was an Ethaefal, they were not. Her divinity far outweighed their own. "Is the group full already?" She spoke to the seated woman that looked so sure of herself, tone dipping into the realm of mocking. She was doing so well with holding back her need to condescend, but small slip-ups were to be expected. "If not, I'd like to show my candidacy for learning with you. I've even brought my own things from home," the girl patted the strap of her backpack. She had brought her journal along for the ride as well as a blank book, just in case she had some observations to make about the people present. She stood idly as she awaited a reply, or hopefully in invitation, her woodland eyes flat and observant of the two people present. She decided she didn't like how the man looked, being bald. It made his head look far too small. The woman at least looked relatively normal, if a little richer in tone than usual.

[Johanne]

OOCI'm sorry this took so long. It won't happen again!

When the invitation from Suria came, Johanne had not known how to react. The Ethaefal and her had met two seasons ago, when the leaves were turning golden brown and the winter's chill was ever-so-slowly but surely edging in. Their meeting had been strange. Not unhappy, nor aggravating - but perhaps too raw, too much of herself exposed to a stranger, old wounds opened up for the world to see and rub dirt into. But still, the Ethaefal had an irresistible quality: and so when the invitation came, neatly lettered and spaced in a swirling calligraphic font, Johanne had been unable to resist. She had replied within the day in the affirmative.

The noon rest had afforded her no sleep, something still strange to the Denvali girl, clinging to the habits and pastimes of her home. Anxious, she had spent the quiet hours while the city slumbered arranging her paper, remnants of the stuff made from her home, and her ink sticks (a wonderfully useful contraption she had found in the markets of Lhavit) into her bag slung over the shoulder. When she could delay no longer, wearing her usual forest green dress, bodice laced in accordingly, and her sleeves pushed up to reveal the myriad of scars and mutilation over her milk white skin, she had left the Solar Winds for her destination: the still-elusive Bharani Library.

Her throat dry, the walk was spent in silence, hardly returning the smiles of the people passing by, a gesture of goodwill from a city steeped in it. She did not know why she had come, or rather, she did but could not voice the exact reason: she was lonely, yes, but was that truly enough to motivate the fearful Johanne to share her inadequate words with a circle of strange and talented writers? It seemed so, if that was the reason. Whatever it was, when Johanne was directed to the back of the library by a squinty-eyed clerk, her hands were fair shaking with nerves.

Already two sat by Suria, the diminutive Ethaefal in her Vantha seeming, her eyes a swirling myriad of passions. One, a man dressed in the robes of the Shinya, was unknown to her, but the other she recognised: the woman, Quiarinox, the one who had snapped at Johanne, who had let her carve into her skin. Fluttering her eyes towards the two, she looked back at Suria, her satchel clutched close to her body by scarred and scratched arms, as if afraid one would steal it. "Hello," she said quietly. "I'm sorry if I am late." She waited for some kind of validation from Suria: it was not in her nature to simply impose.

[Albireo]

OOCThank you for joining, everyone! A group of four shall be fine, so the thread is closed now. First to arrive wasn’t a figure immediately associated with writing. Silver robes and regal posture, he approached with an air of self-confidence that betrayed the uncertainty the environment of white modesty and shimmering architectural legacy had to instill in one as him. Shinya. Rising a brow, Suria stood and returned the bow nevertheless. “Yes, this is the right place. I am Suria Skyglow.” Straightening, she met his gaze with a rainbow of bright orange and magenta lightning in her own. “This is no class though, more of a meeting to exchange advice and practice together.” Would he leave, disappointed in her inadequacy? A steady gaze challenged Lu to do so. Until the girl chimed in, an image of innocence with fiery locks, yet the dry and mocking tone betrayed her apparent age. Suria’s eyes narrowed a fraction as their hues shifted to violets and sky blue. Ignoring the attitude, she repeated her name. It already tasted stale in her mouth. “There is plenty of space. You’re welcome if you want to practice writing with us.” Finally a familiar face appeared between shelves. Suria’s heart gave a small flutter of relief, not enough to show on her features or brilliant irises, but still… The slightest nod acknowledged the girl’s existence. “Johanne. It is good to see you again and I’m glad you could make it.” Late or not, it didn’t matter. She had constructed the gathering as free as she could, a mere experiment. They could come and go as they pleased, Suria wasn’t one to judge. For a moment her gaze flickered towards Johanne’s naked arms: scars upon scars, all neatly lined up next to each other like books on shelves. Indeed they told their own stories, although the Vantha could neither hear words nor understand the language. It was for their owner to translate. She sat and ran her hands over the sheets, inviting the others to choose their seats around the desk. “Before we begin, I would like you to answer a simple question, so I can better understand how to do this. What do you hope to accomplish here, through this meeting? What kind of goal or expectations do you have in mind?” Thus her plan unfolded, transforming from fragile image into solid reality. Her eyes plunged into orange once more, excitement of what it would reveal.

[Lu Gavima]

Lu was unsure of how to take the girl's demeanor. She stated that it was not a class, but a way to exchange ideas and gain practice. Her posture was one that he was used to; that of challenge. He acquiesced in this case, taking a seat and arranging his materials carefully. "A pleasure to meet you, Suria."

he certainly felt out of his element, which was expected. He imagined it would be the same for a noncombatant to attend a fighting practice session. His eyes scanned over the others. He recognized one as being the Ethaefal who had conveniently disappeared when he and Alses ventured off to Sartu. He only looked at her sideways, passing on the opportunity to feign a smile. The other girl he did not know, though with her appearance, he was surprised he did not know her. Of course, Lhavit was a large place and with so much time spent on work and training, it was a wonder that Lu knew anyone who wasn't Shinya.

A question was posed to he and the others. Lu looked at the book he had been enjoying and his own journal before answering. he wanted to make a good showing, though he was clueless on how to do so. best to speak up and see what came out. " I came across a most interesting book last night and it is very interesting. It is an account of an expedition, but it is written in a way to make it pleasant and enjoyable to read. My duties contain my focus to things that are very serious, but I would like to learn how to write in this friendlier tone." While it came out as if someone was reading something his mind had written ahead of time, Lu was satisfied with the truth.

[Quiarinox]

She didn't miss the sidelong glances and almost smiled with satisfaction at them. The new leaf she was turning for a simple human didn't seem to apply to the way she dealt with other humans. She was not disappointed with that thought, because certainly all humans weren't the same as Daille. She took a seat, folding into the chair and slumping in a most unladylike fashion. She wasn't an Ethaefal at this bell and wouldn't be for a few more bells yet, so she afforded herself the luxury to not act like she embodied graceful divinity in a hopelessly mortal shell. Her smile after the act was a little more inviting to friendly conversation as she folded her hands on the table after placing her bag on the floor. She would remove her tools for writing after introductions and the questions expected to be passed around had been passed around. "I learned how to write in Ravok," she replied to the woman's question. She took Johanne's arrival in stride and did little to convey that she recognised the scarred woman. "Like many people that haven't had the chance to try themselves with writing every day, though, I've found my writing is sub-par and would like, and love, to change that." She smiled again more fully, noticing inwardly that smiles were easier now than they were before. She anticipated the day when smiling came without conscious effort, because then she could finally leave the human city and return to the city of her god. "In all honesty, I find writing a relaxing form of expression and expect, from this meeting, to again revive my desire to write. I brought my own tools for this purpose so I may reflect upon what I learned today in the privacy of my apartment and joined you here today because this opportunity seemed so enlightening. Otherwise, I don't plan for much after this." She would still like to curse them all, of course, with the thought that she hadn't spread discord through Lhavit as often as she should have. Everil would be displeased she didn't do lasting damage to the city.

[Johanne]

Johanne caught the flicker of Suria's gaze towards her arms. How could she not? She was so aware of the marks on her flesh, and she knew how much of an anomaly they were. Truly for one to ritualistically carve into their flesh, bring forth blood and pain for the sake of a value, a concept as intangible as beauty, that was something strange. But her eyes stayed steady. She knew Suria and she knew that she, too, was a purveyor of beauty, a storyteller who understood that things did not always mean one thing and that words weren't always enough. She nodded back at the girl, her eyes constantly flickering between the Shinya and the innocent looking girl with freckles.

"It is good to see you again, too, Suria." Perhaps good was not the right word. Johanne liked Suria well enough, but what they talked of, what their conversations had touched on: well, it all seemed over things as silly and simple as 'good' and 'bad'. Perhaps it could be said that Suria was important to her. Not a friend, not in the most trivial sense of the word, but nevertheless essential. Standing a moment more, Johanne took a seat at the table, setting down her satchel on the floor. She looked to the other two strangers at the table, nodding at them silently. They had not introduced themselves to her and so she would not do the same. She was here to write.

Johanne turned her attention to Suria, watching her shuffle her pages together, clasping her hands with the poised dignity Johanne had come to expect. Before she could respond to the question Suria had posed, the other two began to speak, giving her time to think. What did she hope to achieve from this meeting? She had come initially because Suria had asked. But really it was that the call of words was too strong. She stayed silent and listened to the other two, their wants and needs. A friendlier tone, writing for enjoyment: it was clear that Johanne was not among those who felt the artform of writing as she did, who bled words and feelings constantly to the point where she had to carve it onto her own skin.

In fact, if the others looked close enough, they would see a stain of fresh blood gathered on her left elbow, one that steadily grew bigger.

When the time came for her to speak, she did so quietly and without pretention. "I am here to find new ways of taking the heart of the world and putting in onto parchment. I am tired of poetry and pretty metaphors. I want to find things that make people burn inside. I think I can only do that if people are truly honest with me about what my writing needs."

[Brandon Blackwing]

JOHANNE

XP Award:

• Observation +2
• Socialization +2

Lore:

Notes:
Everyone except Johanne: Your grades have been withheld due to inactivity.

Please edit or delete your request in the request thread.
Comments, questions or concerns regarding your grade? Why not send me a PM?

credit goes to Adelaide Sitai