OPEN :: A golden bird was singing

[baedalites]

Who: Everyone!
What: St Kelley's evening
Where: The Apache and surrounding environs.
When: Veerdi evening.
Notes:
(1) The topic threads are just suggestions; if you've got somewhere else that your characters simply must be, make your own thread.
(2) All mementos will appear overnight in some part of your character's apartment.
(3) Dance!

St Kelley's is one of the more sedate occasions in Baedal, at least as holidays go. It passes more or less unnoticed by the majority of the population as many of them feel it doesn't concern them. It's not their holiday; it's for the others. Those with severed ties and broken hearts. The temple and church preach that it's a time for reflection or for glorifying the generosity of the gods. It's one of the few days on which no one looks askance at first generation Citizens mourning their missing loved ones publicly.

As night rolls around and floating lanterns are set to sea, the Apache in Mog Hill prepares to accept guests from the newer cohorts. It's something that happens every year, making it a practical tradition. The alcohol will be cheaper for first timers, and the music will be kept at a reasonable level.

Comments

[martyrdomoption]

"Something to play or lie on?" There's a familiar voice coming from a shadowy corner, and if Hasi investigates, she'll see Mitchell not intentionally skulking in the shadows. But these things happen, sometimes (vampires).

Regardless of intentions, he's smoking and making himself inconspicuous. Apparently the desire to be social and the reality haven't quite meshed tonight.

[norea]

She turns on her heel, eyes wide at the familiar voice appearing from seemingly nowhere--but she's not that surprised, somehow, that he's there. Courtyards. Hasi saunters over, intending to steal his cigarette to take a drag of her own, if he'll let her (..."let") get up into his personal space. She is wondering if he's putting a boat out tonight, but this entire ritual is intriguing to her, so she's curious about everyone's results. Just Mitchell's in particular.

"Someone to play for me, so I can sing. But I wouldn't mind the latter, either." She smiles at him, sidled up close. "Hi. ... I'm a tiny bit drunk."

[martyrdomoption]

'Let,' indeed. His cigarette is stolen, although he doesn't really seems to mind. In fact, her antics make his face soften into something closer to a smile. "So I can see. Having something close to a good time?"

He isn't holding out for anyone genuinely enjoying this holiday.

[norea]

"Mmm, I always like a party." Wherever there are people, Hasibe is in her element. She knows she'll probably get something of Henry's or her mother's, and she's prepared for that--she's lost nearly everyone, after all, so she's expecting it'll make her sad. It's not here yet, though, so she intends to enjoy her time.

She loops one arm around Mitchell, face tipped up. "What about you? You're very shadowy tonight."

[martyrdomoption]

"Mm." It's a reluctant sort of noise, as though he'd rather not talk about it. Then again, Hasi has ways of dragging things out of him. It's better to give them up of his own volition, he decides, but he still takes his time about answering.

Which means he waits until his (now free) hands have settled on her waist, all the better to keep her close. He's either unconsciously mirroring her body language or avoiding her gaze when he looks up to the strange sky and answers: "I don't know. Not feeling as sociable as I thought I was. But I'll make an exception for you."

[norea]

She's glad he's learned that much, and she doesn't mind being patient. Hasi inclines her own head in a bare approximation of a nod, understanding.

"Well, if you want, we can cut out earlyish. These things are better with just the two of us." Like on Christmas: take-aways, bottle of something alcoholic, sharing cigarettes and not wearing enough clothes. "Are you putting a boat out?"

[martyrdomoption]

"Nah, it's fine. Enjoy yourself." And he presses a kiss to her cheek to stress the point.

He puts his hand in his pocket to remove a set of house keys that don't match up to any house in Baedal, twirling them on his finger. "I've got all the mementos I'll ever need. Can't really think of any others that I'd want. Probably end up with a mug of cold tea, or something."

[norea]

"I don't mind going," she says, but she certainly doesn't mind staying, either; there's something about this interaction that's terribly coupley, she recognizes, but Hasi can't quite bring herself to spoil it by mentioning as much. She's swiftly distracted, anyway. Her gaze follows the house keys, and then back up to Mitchell's expression.

"You carry them," she observes; they don't match up to any lock in Baedal, as noted, but he's got them in his pocket.

[martyrdomoption]

"Yeah." His accompanying expression is calm, a good natured blankness, with the exception of his lips curling up in a mild, sad smile.

The keys are pocketed once more, and he recalls something someone (that they both know) once said to him. "I have lived a long and appalling life. But I had them, for a little while. And whether I deserved them or not..." he breaks off to tilt his head to the side, conceding to that last point, before continuing with, "I think I needed them."

[norea]

Hasibe considers that, the weight of those words--they don't speak in-depth often of their pasts, but she knows enough to recognize how important the residents of that house really were to Mitchell. She wants to say you have me, too but it doesn't seem right, so she doesn't.

Instead she says, sotto voce, "I'm glad you had them, then. And that you've got something to remember them by."

[martyrdomoption]

"Yeah. Well." There's a shrug. As prone as he is to sentimentality and emotional outbursts, there's still that expectation to play it cool (until it all gets too much and it comes tumbling, tumbling out--)

"How about you? Did you take part?" Now, that's something he's more than a little curious about.

[norea]

There's a momentary lapse in eye contact (telling, since she's usually terribly steady about that), just a flick of lashes as she double-checks her composure. "I did. I'll get something of Henry's, I'm sure--that was my husband's name."

Sure, it could be something of her mother's--but Zeynap didn't keep a lot of things, being as anti-material attachment as she had been, and frankly, Hasi knows how these things work. Her mother's death was ten years ago, and stings less, therefore the city is likely to give her something that's more difficult to maintain her usual perfect poise when contemplated.

[martyrdomoption]

"Will you be all right?" The past isn't something they talk about a lot, after all. And speaking of which, while his concern has usually always been part of his façade, some way to help him get or keep what he wants with the exception of a few notable individuals, this time it's remarkably genuine.

Something which, like Hasi, he also ignores, but then he's well practiced in denying his feelings.

[norea]

"I'm always all right," she says, like it's a promise. She has no luxury of delicacy, the way she looks at it; Hasi measures her strength in her ability to grin and bear it, which is interesting, considering she discourages everyone else from utilizing her own unhealthy methods.

There's a pause, though, and she tries to push through, tries to be a little more honest. Nothing she ever says, for all her pretty turns of phrase and knowledge of languages, will ever encompass the wreckage of Henry Jekyll, but she can give a bit.

"There's this poem he gave me once, when he was having one of his episodes. Early on. It talks about this thing men in Naples used to do--I can't recall the name--but to show ownership of a woman, they'd cut her face." She indicates on her cheek, just so. "Anyway, the poem goes on to say that while the author sees the appeal, it's unnecessary, because he's already left his mark on the inside."

Her tone isn't falsely cavalier, or even matter-of-fact, but--more vaguely distant with memory. Not so sad so much as drifting away from earth a touch, the way things of spirit sometimes do.

[martyrdomoption]

While he considers what's she's saying, a strange tenseness comes over Mitchell. Hasi will probably be able to feel it in his hands, see it in the way he holds himself. Because it's not the same dynamic, but there's something, something about the idea of someone so casually handing over a poem like that, that bites away at him, reminds him of--

He stops himself from reaching that most inevitable of conclusions and breaks out of his thought process to wipe a thumb at her cheek. He does it in the hopes it will bring them both back to earth.

"Long lie in, tomorrow. And day-after drinking take-out. Might have some hair of the dog, even." And considering there is a giant dog lolloping around his flat, "Not actually, I cleaned this morning."

[norea]

The gesture does help--she connects so well to their (at times aggressive) physicality for that reason, among others. Hasi smiles just slightly, brushing away the remnants of old losses and associated wounds.

"Did you? That leaves us free to do whatever we like, then, including staying in." Which usually involves a lot of other things than just lying down, with these two. She can tell his mind went somewhere else just now, but a party isn't the place to press the requisite buttons (and she should be more conscious of how she does that to him, since she cares with increasing intensity, but that caring is also why she's prone to her benevolent manipulations).

"I can show you some new accessories I got." Madam.

[martyrdomoption]

"And I might wait for you to actually try them on." Unlike that last time with the lingerie, yes.

Wherever his mind was a moment ago, it's now quite firmly in the present. He's beginning to like the tendency they have, of getting wrapped up and lost in one another, more and more.

[norea]

"If you like." Hasibe tips her face up, smile playful, a little bit challenging; she's not too shy about PDA in the first place, but she does mind it so she doesn't make others uncomfortable, and here in the gardens of the courtyard in the dark, she doesn't think anyone's watching. Thus she has no qualms about kissing him then, drawing it out.

When she breaks, she says, "Like I've been telling you. You can do whatever you want with me."

The epitome of her recklessness: saying things like that to men, and meaning it.

[martyrdomoption]

"Oh really..." He returns his enquiry with a prolonged kiss, hands sliding down to fiddle with the hem of her dress, ruffling and pushing it up. When he does pull away, there's a sly little smile on his face and his hands don't move.

After all, there's no one around and apparently he likes pushing that saying as far as it can go. Like the world's most tactile game of chicken.

[norea]

That gets a little breathy yelp and equally soft laugh; she plays at being scandalized, but the way she presses against Mitchell afterward, hip-to-hip, is telling. "You're going to get us in trouble," Hasi says, accusingly, "what would you do if someone came out here and saw us, hmm?"

There's a pause, as she regards him from under her eyelashes.

"Or maybe you'd just like the voyeurism of it all."

She always plays on his instincts when she finds them--right now she's testing to see if that's one of those little hidden desires. They might not be officially together, but she knows he has possessive tendencies, and that's not a bad way to show them off in front of company.