The morning is wiser than the evening

[by-firelight]

Ceara Coveney. Cis-female. she/her. 27/500+. ⸻ king roberon cole welcomes Vasilisa Zima to fabletown—or, as they were once known, Vasilisa from Vasilisa the beautiful. before the magic mirror, they come glamoured in the mirage of a well loved doll, cherished from childhood, the last remains of mother whose face she barely remembers/ flowers wreathed in her hair, slowly decaying as she works endlessly, figures in the light of a lantern that she still sees after images of every time she closes her eyes.  the tale from which they hail exalted their diligence and  sincerity, but decried their bluntness and reserved in equal measure. no matter; this time, they shall write their own. in accordance with the fabletown compact, they are granted amnesty for any and all transgressions, even that which is little known: she did not bury the skull lantern gifted to her by Baba Yaga as she led everyone to believe. Whispers rang in her ears, claiming that she would have need of it once again. It is still with her to this day, she’s still unsure if it was a gift or a curse.  ⸻ Rin, 27, cst, she/her.

What was

Vasilisa had been showered with love from the moment she was born. A fairer child could not be wished for. Oh she was as happy as could be in that little cottage with her parents. It all took a turn when her mother fell ill. In those final moments she gifted Vasilisa a doll, not just any doll but a magic one. ‘Care for it my child. Give it food and it will help you in your time of need.’ It quickly became her most cherished possession. After a few years her father remarried, a stepmother and stepsisters who liked to pretend she didn't exist. When her father was away all of the chores fell upon her and if she dared to speak up well her stepmother was not forgiving. Luckily she still had her mothers gift. ‘Help me little one. I fear I will never accomplish all this alone.’ She would whisper before giving it a bit of food as she had been instructed. Without fail every time it helped do what needed to be done. Eventually she was instructed to go deep into the forest, find Baba Yaga's hut and bring back fire. The journey was treacherous but the doll led the way. Soon enough she found herself at her destination, completing tasks for the old witch. When night fell once again she was given a skull filled with an unnatural light. It whispered to her, telling Vasilisa to not discard it as her instincts told her. When she returned to her cottage, the hatred and resentment she felt for her stepmother and stepsisters overwhelmed her. They were burned to the ash by the light of her lantern. That light would sear its way into her very being, she would never forget its righteous warmth as long as she lived. Vasilisa had intended to bury the damned thing before she left her home for the city for a new life, but she could not bring herself to do so. It was hidden away and she told not a soul she still had it. Meanwhile it whispers away, not ever letting her forget that it exists.

What is

When the adversary came Vasilisa was among some of the last to leave. Stubbornly believing that this too would pass as every hardship before. As it became clear that it would win, she made a hasty retreat from the homelands, trusting the doll to lead the way to safety. Now in fabletown with what little she owned she would start anew, she had done it once before she would do it again. Though it was made a little more difficult by the fact that there was a whole community of fables trying to do the same. Nevertheless she would find a way because if there was one thing that Vasilisa was good at, beautiful and fair as she was, it was putting her head down and doing what needed to be done. 

[r0ttenluck]

Remembrance Day may be a joy to some, but to Mei, it was nothing more than a reminder of her shortcomings. Had she successfully killed the adversary back in her homeland, she and the others wouldn't have needed to flee to another world and abandon their original homes. It was a bittersweet moment for sure--- a celebration of a new form of life, new companions and roles in society, but a loss of the life one had come to know intimately once before.

It felt strange to see individuals acting so jovial at the festivities, and a bitterness began festering in Mei's chest. She could feel the envy seeping in, and she had to pull herself away from the crowd before that feeling could swallow her up. Of course, when she slipped away, she hadn't expected to run into someone. Perhaps she was losing that observant edge that got her far in the army.

"Do you have any more of those?" She asked, nodding to the stubbed cigarette. Mei didn't judge one's vices--- she had seen it all during her time at war. "I know it's a celebration, but everyone seems so... happy. It's strange, given the history, don't you think?"

[by-firelight]

The inhibition she felt began to fade,she had already been caught, no sense in letting it go to waste. Deftly she relit the cigarette still held between her fingers.The end of it a bright ember in the dark, hypnotic in its own way. These days she couldn’t look into any flame for too long without invoking memories of a searing lamp light. Some days she would give anything to  feel that warmth again. Shaking her head she cast off those thoughts and turned her gaze to the other woman. Pulling a second one from her purse, she passed it over along with her lighter. “I don’t smoke often, but I always keep a few on me.” 

Vasisla couldn’t help but laugh. “Believe me I do. Why do you think I’m out here?” Now she was all for looking on the bright side, but it felt like the point of today got lost in the mix somewhere. “I think it’s important to remember all that happened a lifetime ago.  A party is perhaps not the best way though.”

[blackliights]

⟢　　﹒ starter ; open to anyone ⟢　　﹒ setting ; event pt 2, on the steps of the woodland apartments

her frown is almost permanently in place ever since she heard the news. did she know the victim? no. did she still feel sympathy? yes. she's just made her statements, and has decided to sit down on the steps in front of the woodland apartments. it's a cloudy day, the sun hiding, and she's glad that it's not raining. mali's pulling her hair over her shoulder, fingers instantly tangling into the thick black strands as she looks up towards the sky, wondering if the weather will actually match the mood of the day.

she perks up when she hears the doors open, and her head swings around to look at the fable who had just appeared. "finished your turn?" she asks, giving them a small smile.

[by-firelight]

The weight of the morning's news had settled like a stone in her stomach. A dead witch, a class that from her experience seemed nearly untouchable. Whoever had managed this was either highly skilled or extremely lucky. She wanted desperately to believe that this was the worst of it, but her gut told her that was not the case. Just another thing to add to the growing list of troubles. 

Exiting the building Vasisla paused at the base of the stairs, giving a small nod. “If only what I had to say was actually of use.” She let out a sigh, that was just the way unfortunately. “I hope they figure out who did this quickly so she can have some justice.”

[ber3ave-deactivated20250711]

open to. anyone — come one, come all ! setting & notes. remembrance day gala event, well into the night. feel free to assume connections if not plotted yet, or this can be their first interaction if you'd like.

      while their current environment deeply constrasted their homeland of thebes, the sheen of tonight's event, gilded in excess and glamour, was, truthfully, nostalgic to antigone. colonades and open corridors were traded for sweeping hallways, lined with glass, reflecting the twinkle of its surrounding kingdom. all of it conflated into a pool of guilt-ridden nostalgia, one that pooled deep within their gut, diminishing them into a former form, a mindset arguably foreign to whom they have become. perhaps it reminded them of better days, or rather easier ones, a childhood of royalty, nobility as their norm, only turned upon its head when the self became a pawn — coward. alas, tonight wasn't the occasion to dwell, to seethe, every other day is wrought with such distress ... would it be so wrong to indulge, just once ? even if so, tonight was for celebration, for others, for the kingdom.

      they positioned herself tacky-stuck to the wall, perpendicular to the spanning ballroom, eyes flicking between clumps of assumed friendships and pockets of comfort. she merely lingered, sips of a cocktail between curious glances. only the click of a heel upon polished wood forced their attention to waver, " the attendance is abysmal, or perhaps it's my doing, for being so late. " despite judgements, their tone remained unwavering, only characterized by its usual deep, billowing timbre. " i've seen more people wafting about in the corridors outside. — more so a business meeting than a ball, no ? "

[by-firelight]

The thrum of the party had dulled, as she had taken to hanging on the fringes of it. Vasisla did lazy circles around the room, not quite a wallflower yet not seeking to join the fray. Eyes flitted from one face to the next before alighting on one in particular, Antigone directly in her current path. To this day she still couldn’t say what exactly she had done to earn the girls ire, but she had done it quickly and completely. It was luck that she hadn’t been seen yet, she could slip into the crowd and avoid the headache that would undoubtedly ensue. Yet she continued towards her, grabbing a fresh glass of champagne from a passing tray. Fully aware that she may possibly come to regret this decision. 

“I think most have just wandered elsewhere. Getting all of us fables into one room is like herding cats. Given that many can’t stand each other in the first place,” Her voice was cool and even as she made the pointed comment. “I’m not surprised that many would flee to far flung corners of the penthouse.” Vasisla took a sip of her drink, looking at the crowd rather than Antigone. “It’s the day, a party is thrown to remember all that was lost. Personally I could do without the ceremony of it all.”

[figm3nts]

belin  lingers  in  the  doorway  a  moment  before  stepping  onto  the  balcony,  her  silhouette  caught  briefly  in  the  dim  spill  of  light  behind  her.  the  chill  of  the  evening  suits  her,  always  has.  it  tempered  the  warmth  that  others  so  often  mistook  for  softness.  “i  could  say  the  same,”  she  replies,  voice  smooth and cool,  threaded  with  the  faintest  amusement.  “but  i  suppose  you  and  i  have  similar  instincts  when  it  comes  to  big  rooms  and  too  many  eyes.”  she  moves  toward  the  railing,  hands  folding  neatly  in  front  of  her,  not  quite  facing  vasilisa,  not  quite  ignoring  her  either.  “didn’t  mean  to  catch  you  in  the  act,”  belin  adds,  eyes  flicking  toward  the  stubbed-out  cigarette.  “but  i  won't  pretend  i haven't done  worse  to  get  a  moment  alone.”  a  silence  stretches,  thin  and  companionable.  the  murmur  of  the  party  inside  is  muffled  by  glass  and  distance,  almost  ghostly.  belin  doesn’t  fill  the  quiet,  instead  she  lets  it  breathe. after  a  beat,  she  inhales  ---  “are  you  enjoying  yourself  in  there  ?”  it  seems  silly  to  ask,  given  their  current  predicament,  but  the  question  lands  lightly  and  without  demand.  “i  don't  know  about  you,  but  i  can  think  of  a  thousand  places  i  would  rather  be.   or maybe  i'm  just  being  uncharitable.” 

[by-firelight]

She couldn't help but chuckle at Belin words. “Crowds don't bother me so much. I like a good party just as much as anyone.” no one would call her the life of a party, but she liked a good time. With a drink or two and minimal effort she could be coaxed onto the dance floor and one would discover that she wasn't half bad. “This-” Vasilisa gestured back towards the doorway. “Feels more like an obligation.” It sort of was, she supposed. Maybe she hadn't been expected to make an appearance, but somehow it felt wrong if she didn't. She waved away the others' words. “Ah it's nothing to worry about. I shouldn't smoke in public if I'm  going to be upset when I'm caught.” No move was made to relight the cigarette. A faint smile curved across her lips, eyes twinkling with amusement. “And what is the worst you've done?” The silence settled over her comfortably, the stillness of the night creating a sense of peace in the shared space. “I am, really it's not a bad party. It was just time to escape for a moment, get a little fresh air.” She let out a hum of agreement before answering. “I don't think you are. I wouldn't say this was my first choice of ways to spend the night.”

[damnedspots]

open at the business office.

it had been the wrong day for yvonne to have such a large responsibility when it came to remembrance day. she knew it was coming but the woman is still drained from last night's sleepwalking episode, how she'd somehow opened all the locks and awoken in the middle of a pathway in her white night dress. still, she cleans up well, sleeks her hair back and dons professional attire - this is her moment for her efforts to be recognised by the people of fabletown. yvonne robertson is very good at her job, she has to be and no matter if she's exhausted, she will deliver. still, making everyone pledge once more did seem like a clerical nightmare and she could have done without it. "come to renew your vows to this place?" she hums, hardly looking up towards them as dark circles weigh her bloodshot blue eyes down. of course, there had been no hesitancy with yvonne signing herself away once more - still no closer to being appreciated or getting the recognition she deserved. things would be different if she didn't pick this job but she had to remain close to them... she was always close to them.

[by-firelight]

Signing the pact once again was something Vasilisa put little thought into every year. Her hand easily signed it the first time so many years ago. Then again she would have signed just about anything back then if it meant that she could carry on. Now it was just another thing that needed to be done so she could move on with her day. Thus she found herself in the business office, a place that she rarely found herself needing to visit. “Aren’t we all.” Her eyes studied the other’s for a moment. “You look like you’ve seen better days. Is that a sign of trouble ahead?” With the mundanes sniffing about more than usual it seemed as if fabletown was on the precipice of another downfall. Sure there were promises from King Cole that was well and would remain so, but he wasn’t exactly a man of action. So Vasilisa would hold her reservations until they proved unfounded.

[by-firelight]

Location: remembrance day gala Open to anyone

This was one event that Vasilisa would never understand. Today had never felt like a day of celebration to her, how could it when in the end the adversary had decisively won. Why revel in their hasty retreat to land where they had to conceal all that they were. Still she would make an appearance, more out of obligation than anything else. 

It wasn’t long before she slinked away to an empty balcony for a bit of fresh air and a quick smoke. Vasilisa didn’t partake of the vice often, it was dependent on her mood and the melancholiness she felt now called for it. Smoke curled into the night air as she took a drag. The smell reminded her of her father, long gone by now. He had a pipe he would smoke and would let her take hits when no one was watching. Old memories absorbed her as she leaned against the railing staring out into the night. The sound of footsteps behind her startled her out of it. “Shit.” She muttered under her breath as she snubbed out the cigarette. Vasilisa typically didn’t like for people to see her smoke, a stupid insecurity about maintaining an image of herself. “Didn’t expect anyone else to come out here. Probably should have since it’s not a bad place to escape the party.”