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@brckenrctual
BRCKENRCTUAL ; an exploration of a future that echoes all around you, taunting, comforting / the breeze dancing around your frame, leaving you breathless / face turning to the sky when the shadows stretch over you / screaming, failing / trying, living / what we keep and what we break.
“Do they ever give me an easy time? Now there’s the real question.” Ares’s tone came out rough, dripping with sarcasm. He shoved his hands into his pockets as he strolled alongside Genjiro through the buzzing market, the smell of spice and salt hanging thick in the air. There was a rhythm to Genjiro’s silence. A steady beat that told Ares he wasn’t fooling anyone. The unspoken was right there between them: his disappearance, the whispers of a replacement warming his seat before he bothered to return.
Any other night, he might’ve spun a lie for the hell of it, crafted some story to see how long it would hold. But right now? He didn’t have the energy.
His grin curled sharp and crooked as his eyes flicked to the glowing lanterns overhead. “I’d bet they’re livid. They always think they can outfly the sun, and when they can’t?” A bitter chuckle rumbled in his chest. “They scorch themselves. Every damn time. And yet…” His shoulders rose and fell with a lazy shrug. “Can’t say I blame them. There’s something irresistible about chasing something you know might burn you alive.”
a snort, short and disappointed. "if you need them to shape up, send them my way. let them taste the routine for the guards." they may see they're lucky with ares. or they'll realize every one in autumn's army has high expectations and low tolerance for anything below that.
but it's not his focus. genjiro absorbs ares' explanation. imagines the beginnings of his own life, of pushing himself to the brink under his grandmother's training. waiting for the fire to consume him, until he finally clawed past the smoke and ash to find her standing above him.
"maybe they can't decide whether you're standing in front of the flame for their benefit or from the fact only you can." he swallows once. "not that it matters what the reason is. as long as they don't put autumn at risk, getting burned may just be the lesson they need, hm?"
it often felt as if she was gorging herself on sweets when she indulged in a treat or two. the war camps didn't leave room for a budget of candy for the young ones - sugar being a delicious discovery upon entering the court for the first time. the third in command hardly looks as threatening as she should, hand buried in a paper bag of sea salt taffy, overlooking the feast.
"a whole boatload of fish," nor remarks, a ghost of a smile on her features, breathing in the variety of grilled and smoked and fried fish. this sort of bounty was unimaginable in childhood. "as if we haven't had fish every day since arriving."
the feast.
closed for @brckenrctual, @ethercvl, @liuyan, @rosaxseer, @n1ghtsongs + @lichtundschattens.
rarely does he allow himself a moment of chagrin around those he doesn't know. but --- and he won't acknowledge this until much later --- the sight of bat wings has him pause. lets him wonder, in the split-second between one breath and the next, if the other knows arachne, and if arachne trusts this illyrian.
well. perhaps he would learn the answer soon.
"at least they're filling." still, the corner of his mouth lifts. "but i already smell the type of fried fish that they served two days ago. think that is the actual leftover or just a repeated recipe?"
gaze drifts between an uncertain time. figures spinning shouldn't elude them, and an instinct to begin joining in almost overwhelms. but it has been a long time since she has done such a thing. glassiness overwhelms sclera, observing as mihri leaps and claps. traditional dance done with such precision, they could almost envy, for it requires a certain dissociation of self. "enjoying?" pausing. "yes."
somehow, the remaining fae do not seem as lively without mihri amongst their numbers. "i don't think i need return the question." lifting her glass. "you will out dance them all before the fire is lit." and perhaps for good reason.
the question lingers: is this an answer mihri can trust, or is nesrin acquiescing? the doubt dominoes; what they left behind for the night swells forth in its return. mihri bites the inside of their cheek, gaze darting back to the crowd. "you flatter me." thankfully, their voice remains steady, even if it's still careful, hesitant.
the music fills the space between them, beat after beat. a warning, or perhaps a dare. mihri slowly sucks in a breath. their heartbeat hammers in their ears. then, they hold out a hand to their sibling. "we both could out-dance them all, couldn't we?"
ulka lights the wick with a match, her powers making a great lantern but not so much a starter. it gives the signature crack, and then the fuse bullets forward with a bright yellow streak of light. a delighted laugh escapes her lips, hands clasping together in excitement. firecrackers were such a day pleasure, reminding her of when she’d sneak them all over the palace to set off at her fancy. for all the dramatics going on with gaea and its lack of a ruler, this made for a good distraction.
“oh, these? picked them up at one of the stalls.” ulka spreads her fingers open - flashing a small assortment of sprite bombs, box of rockets behind her. crouching in the dirt, she reveals the next firecracker from her basket, where she’d earlier discarded it among the browning grass. “do you want to light the next one?”
on the sand!
closed for @stxrfclls, @ethercvl, @brckenrctual + @n1ghtsongs.
a squeal of shock turned laughter shock peels across the shore, louder than intended. but care she doesn't, for mihri watches the streak of light dart across the sky with a swell of homesickness. it's not as strong as fireworks seen at night, but it's so close. her eyes well, but she quickly blinks, drying her eyes before turning to the day fae.
"yes, oh yes i would. thank you! but i unfortunately need a light myself . . . are there any matches? or you know, i could hold it while you light it as you just did, it'll be close enough to lighting it myself."
ulka helps the high priestess step into the boat, fussing over her to ensure she is set-up before taking her seat on the opposite end. despite her relationship with faith (or lack thereof), ulka liked the fae. "your wish is my command," she says with a smile. "i don't find it silly at all. your hands are the mother's hands, after all. i think that would be offensive to be blistered and bruised."
it would be wise to argue over ulka's fussing, but vijaya allows herself to indulge. there's always a small thrill at attention like this. it's only grown since her ascension to high priestess. she must be careful of ego, she knows this --- but allowing such adoration a few times could cause more joy than sorrow. "thank you, i appreciate that you agree. though it does mean your hands will become blistered. if you haven't worked them recently, i suppose. any time you need a break, i'm alright letting the current pull us --- as long as it isn't into a leviathan's mouth." laughter again, though her gaze darts to the sea.
Simone Ashley photographed by Rebecca Spencer for L’Oreal Paris.
the commander glances to the filling plate. amusement darts brief across her features, mostly steadfast. "if you keep giving me the corn, then i fear i'll turn into a cob myself. are you trying to tell me something without saying it, vijaya?" of course, the stress placed upon her at her station was no secret; a stress, experienced far and wide between all of dawn, even more so their high lord. hand doesn't shake, lorelei asleep against her back. "you need only tell me you've not seen me at meals," and the twinkle perhaps likens closer to teasing. nori has relaxed much in recent days.
"you know me well enough that i'd be forthright, or that i would visit your chambers myself to bring you to meals." but gaze softens as it trails to the child at nori's back. "i figure you would like options should the little one wake in the middle of your meal. and if neither of you eat to the bone, than i shall take your shares and the burden."
steps slow, careful toward nearby shade, though its coolness would only be a small relief under the shade. "tell me your woes and joys, nori. i hope there has been more of the latter than the former in recent days."
the feast is fragrant - all sorts of flavours and spices tickling mal's nose. each breath brings a different scent to track, trying to pick out what exactly vijaya is plating before bringing it to her lips. not that malaika was in the habit of refusing a meal, only making a bit of a game of it. "i think i'm alright for now," mal says. the spoon in hand kisses the pile of food much higher than she expects it too. all of the other high priestesses were really quite nice - vijaya especially generous. "i really appreciate your help with my plate. it sounded... overwhelming."
"good. i believe i'm set as well." balancing her own mound of food, vijaya can only hope she hasn't ruined a dish in mingling flavors together like this. "the sight of the table itself was overwhelming, let alone what everything smells like. extravagance made reality." if she could, she would shrug. alas, balance. it takes longer than usual for her to carefully set her plate at the table. "you must tell me what's your favorite already. if it's not the cob, then we must quickly whisper as to what's the better option to save others from the fate of mediocrity."
She was a bit shocked at the request, most others didn't really care about how she got her work done, so long as it was done and done how they wanted. "I can, yeah." She promised her with a smile and knelt down to see what fabric she was going to be working with and what all she needed to repeair the tear. "You're the first one to ask such a thing." She added.
"am i?" how disappointing that curiosity remains bereft in so many fae. how could they handle small talk that avoids the nature of creation and correction? withholding a sigh, she finally replies, "well, that is now rectified. i thank you for being willing to share. i'm intrigued to see if you'll have the same hue of silk, miss . . . ?"
.
daiyu practically glowed beneath the lantern light. cheeks flushed, eyes shining, energy buzzing through their bones like they'd swallowed the solstice itself. the music thrummed in their chest, laughter spilled across the square, and for once, their cane wasn’t with them. a decision they’d justified with exactly zero forethought and too much confidence.
they turned at rahim’s question and immediately let out a deep, theatrical sigh, one hand flying to their chest like his words had wounded them.
“you did not just bring up botany in the middle of a festival”theywhined, dragging out every syllable with purpose. “rahim. rahim. there are lights. and music. and very attractive strangers. and you want to talk plants?”
a beat.
“…it’s larkspur, by the way” they added in the same breath, arms now crossed, chin tilted with pride. “used in sleep tinctures, can soothe nervous tremors, and it’s mildly toxic if you’re dumb enough to eat it raw.”
they bumped their shoulder into his playfully. “there. happy? your star pupil hasn’t lost her edge. can we please go dance now? or at least steal some wine? maybe not steal but drink. or there are so many events!”
a mischievous grin tugged at their lips as they reached out to snag his sleeve, tugging him forward.
“unless, of course, you want to sit here and quiz me on every damn flower in the court. in which case, i will pretend to faint.”
perhaps he should maintain a scowl when daiyu begins arguing; instead, a smile blossoms soft, with a hint of amusement. he patiently waits for them to finish their list, hands folding behind his back. rahim knows daiyu will answer; how could a stellar student not?
"excellent. your recall continuously improves --- you never know when you need to use what's in your surroundings to help." it's the one lesson he always imparts, no matter who walks into the healer's room. "now, now, no need to faint. i promise i won't spoil all your fun here." light chuckles ring, and he casts his gaze down the path. "what would you like to do? are we staring at attractive strangers, or throwing ourselves into dancing with the music?"
the scholar holds close a summer secret to his heart. alaric dares not tell those who are near him his plans of wedding. one day. one day. when kris has said it's fine, and the consequences of the throne no longer linger. "actually ... i have. a lot more than i thought i would. better than the coronation." short, a rather sullen observation, albeit not entirely incorrect. there was at least a lack of stuffiness here. "though another one looms," comes the dreadful mutter. despises even having to bring it up. the guilt sloshing through.
"this does feel like a sigh of relief in comparison to the coronation." was it only a year ago that life changed so drastically? that what once felt rote in nature despite the change in crown transformed into something --- devastating? time stretched into an eternity for him, a blink turning into decades, but this --- it was forever ago and it was only yesterday. "hm, one more thing indeed." a long sigh escapes; tension still grips the line of his shoulders. "surely the magic must have chosen by now? there should be . . . nothing for us to worry over. at least, in being chosen. whether the new ruler is a good person . . . "
It's easy to follow Genji as his swift motions from clinking of the coin to the bar ( Arachne made note to try to pay next time, suppressing a frown at the gesture because he always seemed to do this first ) to weaving through it behind him. Before their mouth went to protest both this action and tease him for being sick of looking at dragons -- the 'accidental' bump happens and like dominoes, the tension solidifies into place as a FIGHT.
"Unbelievable," it's almost laughed, because her companion was funny in his own way. If it were anyone else who they were not nearly as close to, Arachne would simply run and make note to never take their company again but it was Genjiro and really -- Arachne would always choose their side no matter what tides turned against them. And if they were being honest with themselves? They had wanted to do the same thing. "You know, if we wanted a MEMORABLE evening we could just --" before they're able to finish their sentiment, a glass breaks from the fae that had just been doused and is thrown on the floor.
Arachne pushes the table against their now opponent with a swift kick, seeing as they fall backwards, a grin starting to form on their features. Keeping the fae in their periphery, they look over at Genji finishing their thought, "we could just get tattoos or something just as permanent as the scars we may get from this BUFFOON." No whispering now, they hope it's heard.
the better part of him --- the part that constantly digs to find the softness that still burns --- whispers to step back. that if this was one of his charges in the guard doing this, he'd fume and lecture and drill that it could never happen again. that to protect the ashways meant controlling any negative feelings that threaten to consume.
but that control . . . it withers in his hands. despite the festival, despite the underlying danger of starting and continuing a fight, genjiro doesn't walk away. perhaps, when in orbit of arachne, this is what he needs to shed his worries and irritation and memories. empty the mind for space to be born anew.
a bark of laughter escapes, and genjiro shakes his head, smile turning sharper, mischievous. "in my humble opinion, my dear arachne, scars gift better stories than tattoos." a yowl, and he turns in time to see the fae already back to their feet, rushing toward them. genjiro snatches a nearby beer bottle and slams it fast and hard against the other's head, squinting against the shattering glass.
the fae staggers, but doesn't fall. and then --- another two fae start yelling, barreling through the crowd. oh, they had friends too. of course they did. he nudges arachne, shoulder against shoulder. "this is starting to feel like a replay of a few years ago. where was that" --- someone throws a fist, and genjiro snatches their wrist and twists --- "spring? or was it dawn?"
SELINA HUMMED AT THE QUESTION, A QUICK PERUSAL OF THE ROOM SUFFICENT ENOUGH TO DISCERN LIGHT-HEARTED JEST FROM DARKER INTENTIONS. She sees none of the latter. "I don't think anyone would dare, High Priestess. If they'd wanted to curse us, they would've done it a lot sooner, rather than on a festivity sacred to this court. Unless you fear the festival is only a diversion from something worse." she added.
"there's equal weight behind no one and someone giving curses." day is luckier than others in having the power to break so many curses. but there is always a stronger curse. there is always something beyond the limits of even her own power, as blessed by the mother it is. "i hope no one would risk it, but i'd rather be overly cautious than under-prepared, wouldn't you?"
rubbing his hand over his face, ruan groaned softly. at this point, he was exhausted. festivals and big celebrations weren't really his forte, or his cup of tea in the slightest. at this point, he just wanted a nap, but felt that it was his duty to keep an eye on all of the members of the day court as they celebrated. surely too much money couldn't be spent during this, right? but there were far too many booths for him to keep track of everyone. that was exactly how he found himself sitting by the fire, a tall glass of sparkling water in his hand. because ruan, didn't drink. how could you when you needed your focus on all of the money. hearing someone's footsteps close to him, he looked up at them. "please don't tell me that you've spent a ridiculous amount of money and you'd like me to calculate the total." ruan's voice grumbled softly. he was nice, really, but money was a sore subject at celebrations like this. "however, conversation and snacks would be rather welcome."
@ofcourtfablesarchive
"anything i have requested was out of necessity for the service today." vijaya sets a tray of teapot and teacups at the nearby table before facing the master of coin. "and i have a feeling it's on the lesser side of debt, despite the special occasion." concern flits in gaze, though she only folds her hands in front of her. "how are you faring, ruan? not too exhausted?"
the brow returns the raise. gilded form of the spring high ruler lounges here as he's done in each place he frequents, as though he owns it. veil lifted and roland takes in the sight, scanning to imprint the features of she in case he might need this later. boat, rocking with the genteel waves, with the salt of the tides, and roland scoffs, an instant reaction. "such is the curse of a throne, my lady. sometimes, we are forced to say things for propriety's sake, and forsaking our own thoughts. it has never been the mother i fear for that." in the face of a father far too willing to teach lessons, and mother acheson joining in as was seen fit, there was little to fear from deities roland could not see, and in that same breath, almost nonexistent reason to seek them out. "but your forthright lack of patience is refreshing," and he flicks a petal from his ear. "i wish to know if more dreams have been had."
this, she has no patience for. the lecture of royals and their duties. as different as each of the rulers are, the same weight rests upon their shoulders. however they choose to carry it is their decision alone, but she never needs a reminder. of course their thoughts are forsaken. of course their actions are monitored by all.
but she holds her tongue. lets surprise wash over her until she settles into stillness once more. "a bold request." eyes narrow a fraction, trying to parse reasons from a fae she barely knows. "are you asking this of all high priestesses, or am i the first you've managed to sequester alone?"
one of the most valuable things in the world was the love of art, whether it be words, physical art, or food, mika understood the joy of needing to create what grew inside of you. she enjoyed watching others create it, build it, and let it loose from within. when she stood off to the side, watching him paint on a little girl, she couldn't help the chuckle that left her lips. it was a moment of beauty. and she couldn't bear to interrupt it.
laughing lightly, she shrugged her shoulders, "i did come over here to look at your stock, as i've been wanting to decorate some of my book covers and furniture, but that was a pretty face design. perhaps a small sun, and then i really do want to see what all you've got!"
the small smile spreads wider across his face. patting the child's head, he ushers the other fae closer. "come, come, i have enough paint for a sun." he looks through what he has, plucking jars of orange, yellows, and reds. even then, he still walks back for white before he places the colors in a neat row on the ground.
"so --- what do you wish? should it cover your whole face, or do you want something smaller, like on the cheek?"
