Closed The Heroes' Festival (Sigfrid)

[Zeran]

76th Day of Summer, 513 AV Thought it was Leth's light that watched over the festivities of Lhavit tonight, it was Syna's energy that ran through it, as was the dual nature of the city. Citizens wore masks and garbs of white or yellow, the colour in contrast with the night sky above and beyond them. But it was that contrast that Leth seemed to love, and made look even more beautiful against himself. The citizens themselves looked to be as accepted as the stars around. "I stand out a bit..." Zeran looked down at his own cloak. The darker shade of green wasn't nearly as vibrant as the outfits of others. Even then, it had seen better days. The cloak was old, but had served him well, and it was going to be treated with the respect that it had earned from the years it had been with him. "I'm not going to get rid of you. We're going to have plenty more fun together!" He shouted, stroking the fabric resting on his shoulders before running off into the crowds. The Festival wasn't letting anyone down. There was music coming from almost every stall and building. Some people were dancing in the or around the source of the music. Zeran wasn't sure how many of them were drunk or sober. "You should dance with them! I should. Why don't you? I'm waiting. For what? Music as nice as was played back when we had that disagreement with that lovely group of sell-swords." Tonight was in part thanks to that group. If it wasn't for them picking up their swords before their senses, there wouldn't have been a need for the Akalak and the girl to stop them! Therefore, no party! With any luck, that was going to be the last of them. If not, then there was just doing to be more fun. "Mask!" Zeran suddenly cried out amongst a crowd of people. "I should get a mask!" He stopped and started searching the stalls. "If I could get a mask, I could fight villains like those heroes! Then I could have even more parties!" It was decided. Zeran started searching for a mask.

[Sigfrid]

oocSorry for the long post, wanted to get some work experience in. Note: the stranger she is speaking to is Zeran.

Cringing, fingers pinched the problem strings. Thank Rhaus that no one seemed to notice. She thought, continuing with little hesitation, sticking to familiar melodies in the mean time. With the bar so sparsely populated, it was no wonder that few picked up on the horribly incorrect chord, for most that remained were busy conversing or sating their thirst. Of course many came and went, what with the Demise's location in the plaza, but most soon left to rejoin the festivities. She too, wished to follow, but only a few chimes remained in her shift so she might as well save the effort of asking and simply wait it out. At the very least, it was a job the Ethaefal enjoyed. Taking advantage of the low number of patrons, Sigfrid decided to take a few risks. This for her, was not improvisation but technicality, for she lacked any sort of formal training. In fact, she could not even read a note off a piece of sheet music, having learned all her hymns and melodies by ear, which introduced another factor to the problem: her mental capabilities. To keep track of her position in such a complicated piece, as well as attempting to look ahead in the music proved much too difficult, assuming she could even remember the tune in the first place. Nonetheless, she gave it a go, pushing the thought of learning to read aside. Procrastination was sadly, one of her weaknesses. Her fingers entered a loose grip, rolling her wrists slowly as she peered into the audience. Many were adorned in masks, and some (friends or lovers perhaps?) were even sporting matching designs, bringing a soft smile to her lips. Deeming herself ready, she placed fingers to string and began, entering the quick almost feverous rhythm, albeit a bit weaker than desired. Hearing the difference between expected and reality, Sigfrid strengthened, attempting to attack as the song required. However, there needed to be a balance as well between push and pull, as the rests were pivotal to absorbing the feel of the piece. Evidently, what was difficult was not the hurried pace and at times complex chords, but not to be caught up and forget precision in delivering the silent beats. This was an aggressive piece, if such a thing existed for the tranquil harp, though the opposing impressions could work harmoniously when done right. Sadly, it was not. Even for a decent player like Sigfrid, it sounded more like an angry child playing a lullaby than a passionate ballad. Finishing with a subtle flourish, she bowed to no one in particular, exiting the area. Upon catching a patron's slight disapproval, she could not help but to lick her lips, a dreaded nervous habit. Though she was prepared for disappointment, it was still a bit shocking to see the negative reaction. Next time, at home. She promised, swearing off taking such large risks in the public eye where she could embarrass herself and her employers. Thankful that her shift now came to a close, Sigfrid decided to drop off the harp at her apartment before returning to the festivities. A short walk separated the two areas, and in no time she was there. Cursing herself for not buying any new clothing, she simply kept the rose dress she had on, mentally noting to visit the shops as she returned to the plaza. Anticipation grew with every step, swelling once the music could be heard which inadvertently quickened her steps, giving the typically wandering stride some purpose. Soon enough, the plaza reentered her view, colouring silver eyes with the vibrant lights of Lhavit's night. As she wandered between the stands, a smile rooted itself to her lips. The cities and people may change, but celebration was universal. Though this was on a much grander scale - despite its impromptu setup - than the streets of Yahebah, it inspired the same overwhelming joy. To say she belonged in such a setting was an understatement, for Sigfrid lived for such an atmosphere. To commune and be in harmony with so many at a time made the lonely creature feel just a bit less so. Though few Ethaefal adorned a mask, Sigfrid longed to blend and promptly set a course for the elusive mask seller. Once there, she stood for quite some time mulling over a few similar masks, likely annoying the seller and those behind her. Repeatedly, she cycled through the pros and cons of each, not that she minded extravagance, but she simply lacked decisiveness. Of course, Sigfrid did not wish to continue to test the patience of others, deciding to instead seek a stranger's perspective. Gently, she touched a nearby arm, her eyes still trained on the two masks. "Could I ask what you think of these two?" Her free hand remained on the table, a finger pointing to each. "Which do you prefer?"

[Zeran]

OOCYou are free to write as you want, however long and about whatever. Makes the thread more interesting, in my opinion, if there are other things going on as well.

"I am mysterious!" Zeran announced, having found the mask he wanted. It was a very plain design, with no markings, no colour and no intricate patterns engraved into or protruding from it. But it was that plain design that made the mask stand out to Zeran. A simple, luminous white, with a layer on top that gave the mask a mild, reflective finish. His laughter was slightly muffled by the mask, as he spun with arms outstretched. "I am everyone who faces me! Who needs morphing?" Reaching over the top of his head, it effectively covered up his whole face, tapering with the shape of his head to a square 'jaw' over his mouth and chin. Save for two eyes in the mask for sight, Zeran was completely faceless. And he was enjoying his time in this shroud of secrecy. Basking in whatever stares he was getting again, Zeran turned back to the salesman, grabbing hold of the coin pouch he had tied at his waist. Counting out the coin asked for, Zeran offered his thanks and bade his farewells as he turned to leave. Or had intended to before a hand reached over and nudged him for his attention. Zeran looked over to the source of the request, only to see the Ethaefal from the Scholar's Demise, Sigfrid. Moving his gaze over to the two masks she pointed at. "You must have no ability in decision-making if you are asking for my choice and reasons on anything." Nevertheless, he moved to her side, looking over each mask and then her, repeating this a number of times before voicing his thoughts. "One on the right would match your lovely dress this evening, one on the left would go with your elegant form, Lady Sigfrid." He answered, patting her stomach, then running his finger along one of her horns, as he spoke of each mask respectively. "It is now your own choice if you intend to wear a mask that suits specific outfits, or a mask that suits you whether clothed or not. Need me to help you with that decision too?" It must've been unsettling to have a man in a mask speaking as such, but that was where a person's true face would show.

ST NoteI'm not sure how much the mask would be worth. I'll leave it to the STs decision and deduct it from my ledger accordingly.

[Sigfrid]

In hearing such an unexpected response, the Ethaefal turned toward the voice, pausing momentarily as she assessed his appearance. A common cloak and plain, disheveled hair were hardly distinctive. Masked as he was, there was little chance she could place the familiar voice, despite a nagging feeling that they had met before. Normally, Sigfrid would have taken offense to his comment, but as she was preoccupied in observation, she missed the opportunity to respond. It still irked the Ethaefal, but regardless, she would rather keep the peace than to assert her opinion. Besides, it was not as though he wasn't helping, and she did not want to make a fuss of nothing. After a moment or two, the stranger completed his assessment of two masks and went on to explain his reasoning, which was not too helpful for her indecision. Sigfrid had hoped he would simply select which he preferred, allowing her to choose the same, but instead he added another factor to the equation, complicating the dilemma. The light pat to the stomach surprised her, inciting a soft "Oh." and little else. The same could not be said for the brazen touching of her horns, which nearly forced her hand in reaction. Sigfrid quickly swallowed her anger, reminding herself that they were in public and that he was likely tactless rather than intentionally offensive. She could not lose her composure so easily - though a twitch did slip through her elegant demeanour - for it would be disgraceful for a creature of her standing. Though she knew how she would like to react, the Ethaefal was unsure of how to respond in a pacifistic manner. Optimists may disagree, but she was rather certain that it was not the mask that hindered her judgement. Instead she ignored his gesture, replying playfully. "Could you?" Sigfrid smiled briefly, looking ever bit as ethereal as the rest of her kind. Nudity was never an issue for the Ethaefal for she was thankful for the body He chose, at times proud to the point of vanity. Sigfrid would not mind if this stranger wished to see her unclothed, but perhaps in not public; she would hate to make others feel uncomfortable. Turning toward the seller, she pointed toward the mask on the left. "This one please." It was an elegant design in silver decorated with small leaves, flowers and what looked to be pearls, though the price suggested otherwise. Even so, it was hardly inexpensive, but the Ethaefal was one for extravagance. Once in hand, Sigfrid placed the mask over her eyes, pulling the matching silver ribbons back to secure with a small bow. Utilizing the small mirror on the table, she quickly made any necessary adjustments. He was right, the subtle sheen of the silver did match the cool colour of her hair and horns. Pleased, she turned to face him. "This is lovely, thank you." Then pausing, she succumbed to the growing curiosity. "I apologize, but have we met? Your voice seems familiar..." Trailing, her tongue slowed as a lighthearted melody stole her attention, her gaze naturally drifting toward the sound. Despite herself, an innocent smile formed as the surroundings gained colour, lighting her eyes with anticipation. A festival, her first. As the sentiment sunk in, Sigfrid felt compelled to enjoy herself tonight, under His comforting watch. If it were not for the mask grounding her, at that very moment, she could have easily floated away. "Come with me?" Sigfrid asked, her voice sweetened with desire. Before the stranger could finish a sentence, her hand reached for his, pulling him along for the ride. Though she was hardly strong, the abrupt gesture combined with growing adrenaline was enough to dissuade protest, though it would still be fairly easy to break free. With a quick yet considerate pace, she lead him toward the source of the music to join a gathering group. Slowing near the center of the plaza, the Ethaefal turned to face the unwilling participant. Playfully, she courtesied, eyes downcast before lifting her chin to reveal a small, whimsical smile. "May I have this dance?"

NoteLikewise, I will deduct the cost of the mask from Sigfrid's ledger once the price is determined.

[Zeran]

She was twitching. Not much, but there was definitely something. Sigfrid was likely trying to suppress any emotions she was feeling towards his goading, but that twitch still managed to sneak through. It was unlikely he was going to find anything with auristics, especially at his level, but it never hurt to check, did it? Focusing on Sigfrid, the swirls and wisps of smoke that signified her aura drifted into Zeran's sights. There wasn't much he could find, but there was something. It could only be described as 'heated'. There were definitely negative emotions radiating from Sigfid's aura, but Zeran was unable to say what they were. Mild frustration? Annoyance? Anger? Hatred? He couldn't tell. Only that there was, and they were strong enough to be seen when she was trying to hide them. Zeran released his focus, briefly rubbing his temples to ease the tension that came with using auristics. Her response got Zeran thinking further. Even though she was hiding what she really thought, Sigfrid was still able to manage a response that betrayed none of it. The way she kept herself composed was enough to elicit a chuckle from Zeran, quiet enough it was lost through his mask. She was good. Sigfrid turned to him, having chosen the mask that he said suited her form. Her thanks surprised him. There were not a lot of people who would thank a stranger that had been insulting them for no reason. He was losing his touch, or she was determined to show that she was a much better person than he by not responding to his words. Ignoring them altogether instead. "Lady Sigfrid, if I were to answer it would defeat the purpose of wearing a mask." A hero would not reveal himself to the ones he knew. Neither would he let the crowds narrow down the search by telling them who he didn't know. Zeran was the mask and the mask was him! He would have to get use to fighting with most of his peripheral vision blocked by a mask. Did other heroes have this problem? Or was that the reason some didn't wear masks? It didn't look as if Sigfrid had heard him. Something else had grabbed her attention as she had grabbed his wrist and pulled. Zeran almost tripped over himself as she pulled the top half of his body and his feet decided to stay in place. Taking strides, Zeran managed to set a decent pace where he could keep up with Sigfrid's pulling without kissing the ground. Lights illuminated the plaza as couples danced to the music or with their friends in groups. Jovialities came from every direction as Sigfrid lead him to the centre. She stopped and turned to him, courtesying as she smiled up at him, asking for a dance. She was an interesting person indeed. From thanking a rude stranger to asking him for a dance. There wasn't much else expected from an Ethaefal. Zeran didn't think there was much else he could do to upset her. Not in front of a crowd anyway. She didn't want to cause a scene, neither did she sink to his level. Zeran smiled. He wasn't going to try any more for now. Sigfrid had earned enough that he wasn't going to ruin her chance at having a bit of fun with something she looked to enjoy. Instead, he placed his right arm in front of him and left arm behind his back. Zeran stepped back into a bow of his own as Sigfrid watched. "If the Lady can put up with me, I am honoured to meet her request." Zeran got back up and offered out his hand, smiling all the while. "Though as a fair warning, I dance like an Akvatari."

[Sigfrid]

Sigfrid was obviously pleased that the stranger decided to play along, suppressing her widening grin as he in turn, bowed. "Then this will be a dance to remember." She reassured, taking the offered hand with a gentle clasp, not holding her breath as she mentally prepared for rigid movements and dodging steps. To him, it may have felt a tad warmer than expected, partly from rushed steps but mostly from growing embarrassment. The Ethaefal was only now realizing the impulsive and forceful manner in which she behaved having been blinded by excitement. Knowing her body, she attempted to forget the thought before it revealed itself in the form of a faint flush, but this would prove to be mildly successful. Soon, other worries preoccupied her as Sigfrid wondered about the man in front of her. Was he annoyed or offended by her pushy actions? With his face effectively hidden from view, she could not use the usual methods of deduction, relying solely on the apparently lighthearted tone in his voice. The Ethaefal often wondered if she was pleasant company, always careful to not step on any toes and remain in everyone's good books. In Lhavit, this was easier than ever before for its denizens openly admired her kind. However, with every appreciative look, she saw horrified gasps, expressions that were sure to follow should any lay eyes upon her mortal seeming. Closing the distance, her free hand naturally drifted to his shoulder, thankful that she had found a partner of similar height. It rested lightly, but not hesitantly, as though he was truly dancing with a spirit. Once they began to move, following the whimsical and lively rhythm of the music. Sigfrid wondered for a moment if this was a song from the heroes' homeland, for though Lhavit was a conglomeration of cultures, it had a distinct tone that was missing in the current song. She tried to absorb every sound; from the way the lyre kept rhythm with each strum to the winding melody of the flute as she attempted to pinpoint its characteristics. Though Sigfrid did not want to bore her partner, she could not help but occasionally waver in attention from then on. Peering at the moon-faced stranger, she at times felt as though she were in Leth's embrace. Silently she chided herself for comparing Him to a masked man, but did not stop her from wishing that it were true. "What do you wish to hide with that mask?" Here it was, the precursor to a barrage of questions. To deny Sigfrid answers was a mistake, for it only encouraged her curiosity. Some have called her nosy but she had never been able to keep her mouth shut when it came to knowledge that dangled just out of reach. Apparently, she had heard the stranger's reply to her asking of his identity, but only fragments. All she knew now was that he wished to remain anonymous, but the reason, well, her mind quickly supplanted a variety of ideas. "I have seen faceless men bound to their masks and nothing more." She hummed, briefly closing her eyes to enjoy the music before slowly lifting her lids. The Ethaefal paused, as though she were about to elaborate, but instead lifted her tone. "Would I find a scarred man or a coward underneath that mask?" Sigfrid goaded, smiling slowly. She took a chance with that one, believing him to be made of greater stuff than to falter with that question for he certainly did not behave with restraint thus far.

[Zeran]

The mountain breeze of Lhavit continued to carry the melody from instrument to citizen, without so much as sour note amongst the cheers, laughs and joyous discussions from all. The immediate problem was not sticking out too much from lack of dancing skills. In fact, it wasn't a problem at all. Zeran didn't care much for what strangers thought of him. Even acquaintances and friends had only some influence on how he acted, else they wouldn't have stuck around long enough to be called such. The problem now, as the Ethaefal glided towards him, was hand placement. He had danced at other Lhavit festivals before, with varying success but it was all trial and error. Perhaps dancing lessons would be an idea in the future. Sigfrid already had her hand on his shoulder - double-checking, as Zeran could see it, but barely felt it - so she had a much better idea than he. Zeran's hand floated around her waist, quickly trying to decide where it was meant to go. Lower back was usually coupled with kissing, from Zeran's observations. Whilst he had no objections, it was a little forward. Besides, the woman in the pair usually had her arm around the man's neck in those instances. Probably not the right placement then. On her ass was a definite no. That had apparently warranted a slap, last time. It had hurt. In his defence, the woman should've had some indication on where her back ended. Something about 'being slim' that Zeran had taken to mean 'flat' after that incident. It was another learning curve, but he did wish it didn't have to come with pain. Even if it served as a good reminder. Zeran eventually settled for placing his hand on her hip, after looking at a number of the other dancing pairs around them, hoping he wasn't going to get hit again. I've got a mask. That should act as some form of protection. Hopefully. The pair started to move with the rest, in time with the music. The lights that adorned the streets and stalls twinkled as the stars in the sky, creating a gentle lighting over everyone that mixed with outfits of all. Zeran was paying so much attention to his surroundings that he managed to step on his own feet a number of time. Never Sigfrid's strangely enough. She's dodging. His attention was drawn back to his partner at her question, resulting in him cocking his head to one side in confusion. What did she mean 'wish to hide'? "I thought a mask was meant to hide your face. Are there other uses?" Creativity at its finest, when you could think of numerous extra applications for an item that was only designed to have one. Sigfrid must've been very creative to find another use for a mask. She seemed to enter some kind of trance as she spoke again. Bound to their masks? Nothing more? Were there people running around with no clothes on and a mask stuck to their faces? What kind of magic was that? It definitely didn't sound healthy. As she opened her eyes again, asking yet another question, Zeran figured out what she had intended. "Poetry." he concluded. "Not really my strong point. I was never good at it. I have no scars worth hiding, and cowardice is like beauty, what it is seen as changes with the person. Is a scar not the mark of a survivor? And is that survivor, who deserted strangers he neither knew nor liked to protect his friends and family, a coward?" Zeran leaned closer, pulling Sigfrid towards him as he smiled at her from under his mask. "If you ask shrouded questions, Lady Sigfrid, expect shrouded answers. Asking have we met will not result in the answer you are wanting. The answer you want, which was cloaked before, now lies within your grasp." He chuckled as he returned to his original position, continuing to dance as if he had said nothing.

[Elysium]

Zeran

XP:
Rhetoric +3
Observation +3
Dance +1
Auristics +1
Philosophy +1

Lore:
Sigfrid, the Musical Lethaefal
Philosophy: Does the Man Wear the Mask, or the Mask, the Man?
Lhavit: Festival of Joy

★

Sigfrid

XP:
Musical Instrument: Harp +3
Dance +2
Observation +2
Rhetoric +3

Lore:
How to Take a Risk at Work
Rhetoric: Digging for Information
Zeran, Masked and Familiar
Lhavit: The Festival of Joy

Notes: D'aww. I would have liked to see this continue! Both of you, deduct 3 kina a piece for your fine masks. If you have any issues with the grade, please contact me!

and so, the journey continues...