Festival of Illusion

by **Madeira Dusk** on March 2nd, 2017, 6:51 am

The 15th of Spring, 517

On the last day of the Illusion Festival the very stones of the city pulsed with life. Performers in gaudy outfits weaved through the crowds on stilts, on floating chairs, on their hands, on the shoulders of willing and unwilling participants. Murals were painted on every wall, and more than one reveller would find themselves colliding with stone where they thought there were stairs or an archway. Mind-bending sculptures stood on every street corner, attracting and entrancing both the inebriated and the stone-cold sober. Baskets had been set out across the city, each filled with cheap paper masks depicting snarling dogs, flower petals, feathers, beaks, and stranger things. Hawkers shouted above the crowd, advertising their wares not by the quality of their goods, but by the quality of their product's illusionary deceit.

In the centre of the city a strange sculpture of a bird had been slowly building for weeks. Built in pieces by the hands of the formerly cursed Vantha, the rumours said. A apology of a god, a sign of their return to it's good graces, or a hollow act of sympathy? Nobody was sure, but the theories ran rampant through the hushed whispers of the curious.

Madeira breezed by them all. Her new cloak floated in her wake as if she were underwater. The cloak was a strange thing; it was made of golden feathers like the golden wings of Ionu’s statue. But every time she looked at it she could swear it shimmered with a hundred different colours. Every once in a while it would billow about her legs like she was falling. Or flying.

Over her face was one of those peculiar masks she found in a basket on the first day of the festivities. It's unexceptionableness was in itself, exceptional. It's smooth plaster was painted silver, it's features human and androgynous and so boringly perfect. With her cloaked fastened in front of her, her mask over her face and her thin blonde hair tucked away, nobody could guess Madeira's age, her gender or even her race. It was her own way of honouring the city's ever changing, guileful and sexless god.

But more than that, she was drunk with anonymity. She danced with strangers, drank too much, laughed openly, and worshiped her gods loudly and often. Things Madeira the Craven girl would never do. But for these few precious days she wasn't Madeira at all, but a new creature drunk on celebration.

She was just passing one of the city's many temporary stages, where a troupe, wearing nothing but body paint and glitter, were enacting a scene from a play, when suddenly a roar went up from the streets. The whole city vibrated with cries of wonder and jubilation and confusion. Madeira looked around in a panic, wondering what fresh trick this could be, before an immense shadow passed over her, and her eyes flicked skyward.

The crow!

The statue of the golden crow was alive and whole and so very real. It wheeled above the streets on immense, shimmering wings that seemed to grow even as the creature flew higher and higher. All of Alvadas watched it's ascent with wide eyes all reflecting the same scene of azure blue sky and golden feathers.

Just as the Madeira was sure the creature would disappear into the sky, the majestic illusion lost forever, there was a flash of light. With a crackling like the whole of Miza was breaking apart, the creature exploded. Sparks and explosions and dazzling lights even brighter than Syna rained from the sky in a crazy dance, and the whole city lost it's mind. A cheer went up from every mouth in the city as everyone stopped what they were doing to praise the spectacle, praise god, or simply shout for everyone else to shut up.

With a laugh Madeira's hand slipped out of her cloak and grabbed the nearest person by the chin without looking at who it could be. She drew their face forcefully to hers and kissed them hard with the sculpted lips of the mask, warmed slightly by her breath, as the lights flashed above the city and the people thundered around them.

Purchase :

by **Anthere** on March 2nd, 2017, 3:11 pm

Anthere had grown up with the Festival of Illusions. She adored the dancers, the performers, and the colorful costumes. Over the years, it had lost its spark. She could remember being in the orphanage and going to see it, organized in tidy lines so Mrs. Holt wouldn't have difficulty keeping track of them. Mrs Holt herself seemed to lack interest in the festival, finding it too chaotic. But Anthere would sneak away into the crowd, later with Tastur, embracing the chaos and the beauty of it all. She'd watch the colorful costumes and do her best to avoid her angry caretaker.

At present, the Nuit pulled an old, worn mask out of her cloak pocket and put it on her face. She remembered when her mother had first bought it for her, a tiger mask that had covered her whole face, almost down to the neck, and had quite inhibited her visual ability. Now, it fit much better, and she wore it with pride of her younger chaos.

Now, as she walked, she passed two neat rows of children, led by an ever-aging Mrs. Holt, who had new bags under her eyes and new wrinkles on her cheeks. Anthere considered greeting her, but didn't want to get into conversation with the distasteful woman. Instead, she walked past the group, giving the kids a gentle smile. It was mostly unreturned, as a tiger smiling at you isn't the most pleasant experience for a child.

Suddenly, the cheers of the crowd grew, joyful and in awe, as a new view swooped over head. The nuit was silent and in awe, as a great golden crow swooped up, taking to the sky with the wind under it massive, feathery wings. Though the view was wonderful, Anthere prayed the bird wouldn't defecate.

But It didn't. Instead, the crack of a firework resounded overhead, and the bird shattered into a thousand lights, renewing the cheers of the observers. The Nuit simply smiled, as a feminine voice next to her screamed with excitement. Suddenly, the person's hand was under her chin, and Anthere jumped in surprise. "Hey!" she exclaimed, not having the chance to continue before the stranger was pressing their lips against her own. Anthere's eyes widened in surprise for a moment, her view only seeing the silver of another mask, but she soon closed them, losing herself in the exhilaration of the Festival. She could only think how cold her own lips must be.

by **Allassanachassanya** on March 2nd, 2017, 11:23 pm

.
.

"Speech"
"Others"

Sparkling light, clear and bright and white-gold, drifted through the air like incense. The sky above throbbed with blueness, and the ground felt warm underfoot with the intensity of the celebrations that had built to a climax on this day, the fifteenth. Ssanya stood, closing her eyes for a tick, letting the sensations wash over her conciousness. Then like drifting smoke, the sounds, smells, and sights of the riotous Festival of Illusion gradually crept upon Ssanya, who stood in the centre of a dance woven by two women who danced a spiral of water around the stationary Dhani woman. She blinked, and clapped enthusiastically as the two performers stopped, bowed, and then danced off with unearthly elegance to another part of the street.

Everything was bright, in Ssanya's eyes. From the moment she had awoken and stepped out the door straight into a group of artists painting the glorious rise of Syna above the patchwork roofs of Alvadas, she had finally acknowledged that it was home. Something about the city called to her blood, made it sing when otherwise she would lay silent. Whether it was the colour, or the excitement, or the forever presence of adventure, she knew that Alvadas was somewhere she was going to stay. For a long, long while.

She wandered for a bell, maybe two. Time passed without her really noticing, her attention was too caught up in the pirouhetting illusions and people that laced the streets. Every sight was new, every sensation exotic and amazing. She walked until her feet grew tired, and then she was there. At the golden statue of Ionu- or at least, that was what everyone called it. To her, it simply looked like a bird. Not a simple bird though, for it was patchworked with gold and honey fragments, all glinting with a thousand facets.

She walked on, grinning and grinning until she felt the expression was fixed to her face. Her attention was drawn to a shambling stall on a donkey's back, selling masks of all descriptions. Almost before she knew it, she was handing over coins and picking up the only one that took her fancy- a half-mask, vibrant, shocking orange in colour, with a black velvet ribbon to tie it around her head. She fumbled with her new purchase, feeling inspired by the countless others she'd seen wearing such things.

The snake woman thought there was something wrong with her, or the mask, as something fluttered overhead. So she craned her neck and looked up into the sky, to see the shimmering, butterscotch crow circling in the sky, growing, growing...

It burst, like rich fruit, showering the air with shards of piercing light that sent Syna into the shadows. She laughed at the spectacle, and found herself grabbed and pulled into a dance with a group of youths with glitter freckling their cheeks. She danced, as others around her celebrated without boundaries, even as she was tripping over her own feet, laughing almost madly the whole time.
PurchaseOrange velvet mask: -9 GM

.
.

by **Madeira Dusk** on March 4th, 2017, 5:40 am

Madeira saw a flash of a snarling tiger and heard a feminine yelp of surprise as she pressed the plaster lips of her mask to her shocked partner. But while she couldn't feel the lips on the other side of the mask, the hand under her chin was telling her all sorts of things about this woman.

She was cold. Deathly cold. There was no flush of surprise, no accelerated pulse under her fingertips, no expansion of the muscles to say she was even breathing. Nothing at all. It was like she was kissing a corpse.

Madeira and the woman broke apart as a jester in flashing motley pushed between them, pursued by a dozen children screaming in delight. The fireworks had faded by then, but the crowed was still going strong. The actors on the elevated stage had switched out with musicians, who were kicking up a fast, dancing beat. Several laughing youths had started to dance, and before long their charisma had pulled in a tiny woman in an orange mask, and several more passerby, until a whole section of the street had turned into a dance floor.

Madeira watched the children thunder past, thankful for both the distraction and the mask over her face as she fought to control the sudden spike in emotions that hit her like a punch to the stomach. That woman she just assaulted was a Nuit.

Death was natural. Death did not bother a Spiritist. But her entire upbringing revolved around making sure the dead stayed dead. She saw Nuits as just another ghost, like the dozens she had exorcized before, but this ghost was trapped in a cage that was slowly rotting around it. She despised Nuits for stepping from the natural order, but she also pitied them for the weakness that made them do it. It was sympathy and revulsion and frustration rolled together with an innate compulsion to help her along to her proper death.

And she had the skill set to make that happen. Like she explained to Dex all that time ago; a Spiritist deals in suicide.

You don't hold down a ghost and tear it apart. You smile, bargain, and speak kindly to it, and slowly push it towards it's own decision to leave it's life behind. In the two ticks it took for the parade of children to pass, Madeira had already decided she would befriend this woman, and with time, do what she could to make her die peacefully.

Madeira removed her mask, revealing permanently tired eyes and a face flushed with drink and dance. She reached out and flicked a flake of silver paint off the dead woman's lips.

"Guess I owe you a drink, huh?" she said brightly, her blue eyes glittering mischievously. "But since Nuits don't drink, how about a gift?"

Without prelude or preamble she took the woman by the hand and steered her towards a nearby stall that was selling flowers in every imaginable colour. She flicked a copper Miza at the stall owner and pick out a tiny bouquet of almost unnaturally blue roses. With a flourish she removed one stemmed rose from the bundle and held it out to the Nuit.

"My name is Madeira." she said, sadly crushing her anonymity in one fell swoop, but still high on the effects of the celebration. "Why don't you be my date today? I'd like to know more about you."

by **Arisia** on March 4th, 2017, 11:44 am

The girl hummed a slight tune to herself as she walked through the festival, it was so exciting. Everything was exciting in this city, it was so different in contrast to Syrilas, which had been boring and closed off. Here she could see the sky, breathe in the air, and see festivals like this. She had never seen anything like it.

The statue of a golden bird that had been built over some weeks was flying. Arisia herself, had personally never liked birds, except for food of course. Yet this one was magnificent, and it exploded in a brilliantly bright light across the sky above the festival when it seemed like it would fly away from everyone.

The feline had heard that it was people of Vantha heritage that had been finding them, and it seemed like they were accepted again. Hopefully this meant that the horrors of winter were over, and they were accepted again, as they should be.

It was when she thought about things like this, that she thought about her Vantha mother. She was on her mind sometimes, but there was no point dwelling on it. If her mother had indeed been killed in the previous season, then she would want her to enjoy the festival.

She danced, sang along to the music, and enjoyed everything that was happening around her. She felt like she belonged in this city, and she doubted she would leave anytime soon.

Arisia wore the cloak she had brought that day as she took part in the festivities, though when she looked at it, it appeared to shimmer with a different colour each time. Intrigued upon seeing it, she had brought one, and then she had brought an interesting mask that she had spotted being sold nearby.

The mask was coloured black, and it covered the top half of her face except for her eyes, the bright blue stood out against the black, while the warm brown almost matched the colour. Her eyes would likely reveal her to anyone she knew, being as unique as they were. However, those who didn't know her would assume them an illusion, like most things in this city.

The anonymity of the mask didn't effect her at all, either way she would have came to the festival and joined in with everything that went on around her. It was exciting, joyous, and brilliant after everything that had happened last winter.

With a grin on her face, she continued to dance away. She looked like she was drunken to anyone who might be watching,when in reality she was just excited and enjoying herself.

Ledger :

by **Allassanachassanya** on March 13th, 2017, 12:27 pm

.
.

"Speech"
"Others"

The dance was joined by others on the street, and Ssanya relaxed into the sway of bodies. There was hardly space for the dance, but it carried on, weaving playfully across the street. Ssanya curled her fingers with a woman whose hair was flicking like wings around her pale face, and was tugged with a surprisingly fierce grip into her arms as Ssanya followed her feet and grinned a devilish smile at her dance partner. Her heart fluttered, kite-like, as she regarded the woman through hidden eyes, yet soon enough the dance moved on and she was lifting her feet and swaying her hips with an elderly man with mischief in his nut-brown eyes.

Ssanya danced until she grew tired and the musicians changed to a more sedate piece. She wriggled out of the crowd, flushed, with her hair a tangled bird's nest, still clutching the mask to her face as the ribbon had come untied. She sat on a verge, and distractedly dug in her purse for a few coins to pay for a drink she found pressed in her hand. Then, she lay back in the grass and stared at the ceiling of the sky, her lips curling into a broad smile. Every sound around her was filled with joy. She felt it too, that excitement that spread like an infection through the assembled people. A dog ran past, chased by a woman wearing a ridiculous hat festooned with ribbons. Ssanya sat up again and knocked back her drink all in one go.

The festival didn't only have music and dance, but also street vendors, puppeteers, painters, actors, and all manner of people peddling their trade. A vibrantly-painted stall was selling toffee apples, next to a lone actor narrating a play where he was every character in it. The Dhani stopped to watch for a chime, laughing as he pretended to stab himself... and then she spotted something out of the corner of her eye. Or rather, a someone called Madeira. Surprise made her feet move without her even meaning to, but a smile crept onto her face as she regarded the Spiritist from a distance. However, she stopped when she realised the woman was busy. Still half-wondering whether she should interrupt or not, the maledictor turned and walked without looking...

Ssanya stumbled and almost fell when she was confronted with a wall of bodies, the crowd still associated with the dance. To steady herself, she grabbed the nearest person, a woman wearing a black mask and golden cloak, whilst still twisting her body to see if the blonde Spiritist was still there. Because although she didn't want to disturb her, as soon as the woman's friend had left she would seize the opportunity to talk. Until then? She would dance, and watch, and and think about just what she might say in a situation so far removed from their norm of death and decay.

OOC :

.
.

by **Anthere** on March 14th, 2017, 2:48 am

The stranger pulled away, slipping their hand out from under Anthere's chin. The Nuit gave a soft smile, knowing she'd taken the stranger by surprise. She watched as they took their mask off, to reveal a thin woman with large, blue eyes. Her face was framed by gentle wisps of blonde hair, and she had her own gentle smile reflecting Anthere's. A fingertip brushed across Anthere's lips, and the Nuit was surprised, unaware of the paint that had been sticking to her mouth.

The sympathetic offer of a drink calmed Anthere, as if the stranger hadn't realized her blatantly obvious identity. But it was followed by an offer of a gift as an alternative, and the Nuit knew it was too much to hope for. Either way, she might as well enjoy the presence of this woman. She still felt the contrasting warmth of the woman's hand lingering on her chin as she felt a foreign hand in hers. She was being pulled to the side of the street, where a vendor displayed bright flowers. As they walked -- or rather, Anthere was dragged, still in shock -- the Nuit pulled her mask off to reveal her own sunken cheeks and hollow eyes. Her hair was messy. It had been pulled back into a ponytail, but flyaways and strands that refused to stay framed her face.

Anthere was handed a bright blue rose from a beautiful bouquet, and the thorny flower passed from one thin hand to another. "It's pretty," the Nuit responded, her voice quiet and her demeanor shy. Though she was happy, this was a strange interaction, and she'd never felt so detached from those who lived.

Madeira. It was a pretty name and it fit the skinny woman. The name seemed vaguely familiar, and Anthere had a recollection of news regarding a cranky ghost in the Crooked Playhouse. She hadn't been in the performance at the time, but the moment she set foot into the building, she was battered with tales and gossip of the spectacle. "I'm Anthere."

The idea of a date was a bit foreign to the girl. She'd been on them before, but never like this, and not with a woman. Either way, it could be fun, and this stranger might make a good friend. "Sure, why not?" the Nuit grinned, "I don't need to eat, but any chance you want that drink I was offered?"

by **Madeira Dusk** on March 15th, 2017, 7:22 pm

Anthere, huh? Madeira tried not to look her over like she was appraising her, but there was something a little less than casual in the way her eyes roamed over her flyaway hair and sunken cheeks. The girl had been pretty, she decided. Or the body was, she should say. Gods know it's probably not her original. She had the look of a lovely creature who had suffered an illness, or lost weight very fast. There were dark circles under her eyes and a waxy tone to her skin.

The Nuit agreed to the date with a bit of a grin, and offered to get that drink they had passed over.

"Gods yes, I want a drink", Madeira moaned plaintively. All the dancing and excitement was thirsty work. Unfortunately, most of the drinks that were being handed out were either alcoholic or hallucinogenic. And nothing was as it seemed, definitely not today, so even the water wasn't safe. And she might… Well, she might already be a little bit drunk.

“Let us find a drink”, she said regardless, shifting the bouquet to her side and looping her arm through Anthere’s so she would not lose her in the bustling crowd.

As the two navigated their way across the street they ducked under a man wearing six-meter stilts and edged around a woman with a skirt wide enough to hide several more women. The cacophony of madness and the festive air was still going strong, and Madeira knew it would carry them well into the night.

Between the street vendors, the Spiritist took a moment to laugh with Anthere at a man putting on a one-man play, where he played both the villain and the young maid he was preying upon. But as they did she caught a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye, and spotted something she was not expecting.

"Ssanya?" Madeira squinted at the little brown woman, taking in the tangled mess of dark hair and darker eyes. A little orange mask had slipped from her face, and she had both hands on a pale woman with long, flowing black hair and a dark mask. ”By the gods, Ssanya!"

On a typical day Madeira Craven would avoid physical affection from someone she was not intimately familiar with. But she needed to speak to Ssanya with some modicum of privacy for just a moment, so she bore down on the woman with an unexpected hug. Ssanya smelled of girl sweat, wood dust and sweet wine she noted as she pressed her lips to her ear.

"Nuit" she whispered, her breath warm and ticklish. ”Be nice.”

And just like that she pulled away.

She turned her attention to Anthere, motioning to the Dhani with the blue bouquet, her voice bright and betraying nothing of what just happened. "This is Ssanya. She's...." She's what? A Maledictor? A snake monster? Does she mention they met over the rotting remains of a murder victim? It occurred to her that she had never once asked what Ssanya did for a living.

"...She's a friend" she managed to choke out.

"And this is Anthere", she said, turning to Ssanya as she placed a hand on the Nuit's shoulder. "We just met. She's agreed to be my date today. Who’s yours?” she asked innocently, nodding to the woman Ssanya had just been hanging off of.

Deep inside her festival-fevered mind all Madeira wanted to do was flap her hands at Ssanya and squeal like a child. Look! she longed to say, She’s a Nuit! Think of the possibilities! Think of an entirely Maledictated corpse inhabited by a living soul! Think of the layers upon layers of soul possession you can possibly cram into one dead body! Out of all the people on Mizahar, the Dhani was the only one who she was sure would be just as fascinated and angered by this walking defiance of nature as she was. She wanted to share her first ever Nuit discovery with the one person who might understand. But to voice any of this would be not only social suicide, but might just be enough to bring the listeners down on her. So she just stood there, staring holes between the two women’s eyes, and sharing a secret smile with herself.

by **Anthere** on March 26th, 2017, 3:06 am

Madeira's acceptance of the offer was soothing to Anthere, who regarded as a display that she was doing something right. Arm in arm, two bony women made their way through the chaotic, cheerful street. As they wound through the crowd, they found a number of entertaining sights, including acrobats on stilts, colorful patterned pants hanging loosely down. An actor showed a play in which he played both the antagonist in the protagonist in an exaggerated drama of thievery. The two women laughed as the sight before them unfolded. The man mocked snatching a purse out of his own hand, before quickly throwing on a wig and displaying an expression of mock horror. The false hair was tangled from so many costume changes, adding another humorous factor to the performance.

However, Madeira's chuckles were cut short as something caught her attention. Anthere watched her head whip around, and a questioning word left her lips. At first, Anthere was confused, as "Ssanya" wasn't any exclamation she'd heard, and even more confused when it was repeated, but then she realized the word belonged to a person. Madeira's arm slipped out from Anthere's, and her date was suddenly embracing a dark-skinned woman, whom Anthere assumed the previous name belonged to. The newcomer wore a crooked orange mask and a tangle of dark hair atop her head. Through the misalignment of the mask, Anthere saw a brief expression of surprise, then curiosity, as Madeira wrapped her arms around the woman.

After this, introductions were established, and Anthere noticed a slight pause before Madeira called Ssanya a friend. Then, a hand was resting on Anthere's shoulder, and she managed to squeak out a little "Hi, how are you?" Before the two friends' banter continued. She gave a polite nod to Ssanya's companion, who seemed just as disoriented as she was.

by **Allassanachassanya** on May 17th, 2017, 8:39 pm

.
.

"Speech"
"Others"

Ssanya danced... or at least, she shuffled awkwardly with her hands still clasping her newfound acquaintance and her torso twisting round to see if she could spot Madeira in the crowd. It was busy too, and she strained to and fro as she clung to the woman trying to keep her balance and nodded to the beat of the music as she searched. Just as she thought she'd lost her, the blonde-haired Spiritist suddenly appeared like a phantom- an amusing turn of phrase, considering her profession. Ssanya grinned and then her eyes widened as she was folded into a hug, having not expected it in the least.

"Nuit, be nice."

Ssanya's already wide eyes blinked further. She dimly raised her own arms to hug the woman back. She was less fragile than she looked- but the Dhani already knew that, knew the fierceness that hid beneath the surface. The two let go and stepped apart as they began their introductions. Yet in her head, she was ticking over the word, 'Nuit'. A real-life Nuit, flesh-and-..blood? Flesh and something, anyway. Someone who had beaten death. She felt a kind of affront directed towards the woman who dared to defy Dira, but much like Maddy, a serious curiosity in the sickly Nuit that stood in their little circle encompassed in the mass of bodies.

She suddenly realised that the dark-haired woman she had grabbed was still there, and immediately stumbled over her words as she ran a hand through her flyaway hair. "Hello Anthhhere. Hi Madeira, I am glad to sssee you." Glad was an understatement, but with the festival atmosphere rich and vibrant in the air, the two of them could share their excitement without drawing too much attention to themselves.

"My date isss... aah, what isss your name?" She grinned, suddenly feeling the effects of the drink she had imbibed. Her head rushed with sounds and colours and she laughed. "We were dancing and now.. I look like a fool." She winked, and picked up the stranger's hand. "If you are to be my date, I shall introduce you. I am Sssanya, thiss is Madeira my friend, and thiss is Anthere who I have met."
OOCApologies, I thought it was someone else's turn to reply in this thread.

.
.

Open Festival of Illusion