[F27-EVENT-2024] Diwali

[Acanthus 0]

Acanthus took a different path to Hiten today. She wasn’t sure what had sparked the deviation, but to Acanthus, it felt nearly criminal. She’d already measured out the shortest path; doing anything else cost her time in the game. By her count, it was about 47 seconds longer.

And the time was about to stretch even further. One of the festival NPCs approached her from a purple marquee, drawing Acanthus to her with a gentle, enamoring voice. "Hello. How might I be of service today?"

“Nothing, thank you.” Despite her rush, she felt compelled to stay and chat just a little longer. She didn’t want to be rude. “What is it that you do?”

“I am Sarasvati, and I deal in hand-crafted traditional clothing. I have a beautiful blue saree that would look wonderful on you. Or perhaps I could interest you in some henna?”

“No thank you. My brother got caught with some once, and he was grounded for a month.”

“Well, hold on one moment then.” Sarasvati disappeared inside, returning with a gorgeous royal blue saree, filigreed with dark golden details. “Please, give it a try.” Acanthus paused to take in the stellar craftsmanship of the gown. “I wouldn’t want to be rude.”

Item Name: Aarti
Profession: Performer
Quantity: 9 (Total: 45)
Craft IDs: 237160, 237150–57
Post Links: 

 

[3ulogy 0]

Eulogy ducked out of sight just as Acanthus disappeared into the marquee to try out some weird dress thing. The less they interacted, the better off they would both be. After a few moments, Eulogy popped back out into the crowd, whistling nonchalantly. Again, he’d rather drag his feet over hot coals than deal with too many people, but stuff like this was always a good way to get good items and experience.

Eulogy flipped through the sporadic info trickling out of the various info brokers—some of these people were fast. Unbelievably so. Eulogy wouldn’t be surprised if they were here right now, gathering information. But he was grateful for people to do the boring parts of adventuring so that he could get right to the fun stuff.

He read that lighting of the diya, while supposedly a gratuitous act, actually provided some small benefits to the user. So he ran over to Dayanita and snatched five lights out of her hand before she even started to talk. “Thanks, sure, self-reflection, yada yada.”

No one said it had to be genuine. How could a program know, anyways?

Eulogy jogged over to the first station, where he dropped the light in front of a lamplighter NPC. The lamplighter waited expectantly. It wasn’t seriously waiting for him to respond to the prompt, was it?

‘To our parents who guide our journey, we grant of you this blessing.’

“Starting off weak.” Eulogy glowered. “My parents were shitty, stuffy human beings that didn’t know how to be parents. Dad just wanted a smaller version of him, and worked his hardest to cut away any part of me that didn’t fit inside his vision. And mom was the opposite—hated any confrontation, so she just wilted in the corner while dad did his thing. Ugh,” Eulogy spit on the ground. “You actually got me reflecting, didn’t you?”

The lamplighter merely lit the diya in response.

***

‘To our parents who guide our journey, we grant of you this blessing.’
‘To our friends who walk alongside us, we grant of you this blessing.’
‘To our siblings who stand with us, we grant of you this blessing.’
‘To our partners who stay with us, we grant of you this blessing.’
‘To those who will come after us, we will owe to you this blessing.’

Edited October 31 by 3ulogy

[Mishiro 0]

they break for food at a secluded corner then resume their appreciation of the festivities.

mishiro, in search of more unique items, methodically goes from stall to stall to try each one's offerings. perhaps fermata had missed something in its initial sweep. it is not impossible. there are vanity shops wherever one looks, selling street food, outfits, tattooing services, and a half hour with a rented mount. more games. from a simple ball toss, she wins a feather. she immediately knows what she wants to do with it. the problem is sibyl, who jealously curls a hand over loth's gift. ("one more for your hair." "do the two of you fancy turning me into a bird?") and after a round of bickering, it ends up in their pocket with the false promise of wearing it in the future.

other than a table of crafting schemas in front of the library, nothing quite stands out the same as gyan chauper. mishiro reviews the route they had taken around the festival in her head and concludes -- the process of arriving at this answer was not entirely devoid of fun.

she ends up following the lights again eventually.

they cluster thickest at the base of the nameless statue, and among them, a woman in blue prepares even more. it greets her when she passes, and courtesy brings her to acknowledge it and draw closer to listen to its request.

"this lamplighter that you speak of, is he still on the other side of ronbaru?"

"yes," dayanita responds, "it is a quieter walk, perhaps an opportune moment to reflect on your journeys thus far under the guiding lights of our festival. would you like to help again? in the process of understanding oneself, retreading old paths bears numerous spiritual benefits."

sibyl pauses by a set of lights, noncommittal. "i'm not so deep as to need the reflection twice, to be honest. but i can still help. mishiro?"

"i'll take the lights, too," mishiro says.

 

-> diya lighting: receiving the lights

Edited October 31 by Mishiro

[Acanthus 0]

This was a bad idea. Acanthus returned with another set of crafts. The beautiful saree she wore seemed much less beautiful with her in it. She felt clumsy as she stepped on the hem of the garment time and time again. And people kept staring. Everywhere she looked, people were staring at her, only to quickly glance away. I’m wearing it wrong. I must be wearing the stupid thing wrong. And everyone here is too nice to say something.

She met with Hiten one last time. “As much as I’ve enjoyed making all of these songs, I don’t know that I have many more of these in me. I’m spending a lot of materials on this, and the payout won’t be anything other than a little experience, as I understand it.”

Hiten nodded. “I understand. But aren’t you having fun?”

“I shouldn’t be.”

She passed Dayanita on her way out. “Traveler, would you please help me—”

Acanthus nearly collided with the poor girl as she left Ronbaru as fast as she could walk without drawing attention to herself. “I’m sorry, I—I have somewhere to be. Another time.”
 

Item Name: Aarti
Profession: Performer
Quantity: 5 (Total: 50)
Craft IDs: 237179–80, 237182–84
Post Links: 

 

Edited November 1 by Acanthus

[3ulogy 0]

‘To our friends who walk alongside us, we grant of you this blessing.’

Eulogy tossed the candle down to the lamplighter. “Friends are just people that don’t know each other well enough. Sure, I’ll bless the people that hang around enough to be useful, but no one stays much longer than that.”

Eulogy looked at the lamplighter, who continued to stare expectantly.

“Look at you, some stupid quest NPC. You probably don’t even have a family to go home to, or friends to talk to about your day.”

“Actually—”

“I wasn’t finished.” Eulogy smiled with hollow eyes as the lamplighter immediately stopped talking. “You’d probably make a pretty good friend, actually. Docile, helpful, not prone to being judgmental… Hey, you wouldn’t happen to be sticking around after the event, would you? Or are you going to despawn like all the rest of the programs around here.” The lamplighter seemed at a loss for words.

“Yea, whatever. Friends, friends, friendship, love, respect, admiration, blah blah blah. Have I hit enough of the keywords for you to light the stupid thing?”

Obediently, the lamplighter knelt and lit the diya for Eulogy.

* * *

‘To our parents who guide our journey, we grant of you this blessing.’
‘To our friends who walk alongside us, we grant of you this blessing.’
‘To our siblings who stand with us, we grant of you this blessing.’
‘To our partners who stay with us, we grant of you this blessing.’
‘To those who will come after us, we will owe to you this blessing.’

Edited November 1 by 3ulogy

[kali 0]

Pallankuli ended, or was put on pause, or all guild members present at the time exhausted all available moves -- (i.e. things happened and Yue Hua was there for it) -- and there was no conclusive winner. She had thought it was quite fun regardless. Perhaps she could pick up some board games somewhere for a more proper bout; hadn't a few of them said before that the guild hall was in desperate need of decoration?

Yue Hua bid her companions goodbye and went off to sample the food. She had neglected the group chat since her first series of messages, so between mouthfuls of curry, she took the time to scroll through her message history. There was a second game somewhere and Bistro helpfully sent coordinates. Of course she was interested. She went over as soon as she had finished her food.

This one was familiar to her, too. She didn't know she had so much experience with board games.

Seeing none of her cohorts, Yue Hua slid into a random table occupied by three attendees.

“Hello. May I join your game?”

 

-> Gyan Chauper: CD 13 | Laddu (5)

Spoiler

GYAN CHAUPER
237185: CD 3
237186: CD 6
237187: CD 4
-- [Total]: CD 13 | Laddu (5)

 

Edited November 1 by kali

[3ulogy 0]

Eulogy returned one more time. Only three more of these to go, he thought sourly. The things I do for a little experience. He wondered what the prompt would be today. Some saccharine little refrain about love and life and honor. He wondered what kind of keyword soup he could get away with and still have the game process his hollow reflections.

‘To our siblings who stand with us, we grant of you this blessing.’

The fair became deathly quiet. Eulogy was lost in himself.

“He’s hiding because he’s scared,” she would say. “Give him a little space, I just know he’ll—”

“He’s hiding because he knows what he did,” father thundered. “Get out here right now, boy. And if you’re hiding him, h—”

“I’m not hiding anyone,” she replied with a steely gaze. Despite her ten-year old frame, she stood her ground like a Spartan. Dad returned her gaze—it was clear where she had gotten from.

“You find him. Tell him he needs to come home and learn his lesson.” As he stormed away, her gaze turned to his hiding spot in the closet, and their eyes locked for a fraction of a second.

[Eulogy] panicked. I didn’t mean to do it. He cried quietly. I really didn’t.

But it was so exciting. I can’t wait to do it again.

Diwali came back into focus. The lamplighter waited placidly. Big sis… she always took care of me. She always trusted me. Even though she shouldn’t have.

“We grant of you this blessing,” he mumbled. He kicked the diya over to the lamplighter. Eulogy lingered a moment to watch him light the candle, then left without a word.

* * *

‘To our parents who guide our journey, we grant of you this blessing.’
‘To our friends who walk alongside us, we grant of you this blessing.’
‘To our siblings who stand with us, we grant of you this blessing.’
‘To our partners who stay with us, we grant of you this blessing.’
‘To those who will come after us, we will owe to you this blessing.’

[Siren 0]

Siren strolled into Ronbaru with some pep in her step. The guild had been abuzz with plans to participate in the Diwali event, though she admittedly didn’t know much about it. But the energy was contagious, and she was excited to experience something new. Bistro had introduced her to Gyan Chauper, a traditional board game similar to Snakes and Ladders, and, being a board game lover, she was more than ready to dive in.

With a flick of her wrist, she rolled the dice and watched as her piece moved along the board. "Come on! Mama needs a new pair of shoes," she cheered with a grin. Her roll was decent, placing her further along the board, and she flashed Bistro a playful smile.

As she waited for her turn, she fiddled with her menu to send off a quick message. "So, any plans after this, Bistro?" she asked, her gaze flicking up briefly. "I'm waiting on Escudo to show up. Wulfrin’s been on me about introducing him to everyone. He thought the festivities would be a good chance for y'all to finally meet him," she added with a soft smile, clearly looking forward to his arrival.

Spoiler

To: Escudo De Protection
From: Siren

Hey, sugar! You on your way yet? I’m hanging out with some guild members, but come find me first! Te amo, mi amor. See you soon! ~ <3

* * *

Spoiler

Event Activity:

Gyan Chauper - (Snakes and Ladders)

ID: 237279 | CD: 2 | LD: 7
ID: 237280 | CD: 8 | LD: 11
ID: 237281 | CD: 11 | LD: 19

Rewards:

• Dragon’s Jewel | Tier 4 Unique Consumable | +5 DMG, but x2 duration on all negative non-disablement status effects. Lasts for one thread. Does not stack with crafted Damage-boosting consumables.

* * *

Tags: @Bistro @Wulfrin @Escudo de Protection

Edited November 5 by Siren

[Pinball 1]

He didn’t mesh well with festivals of any kind, really. Too many people. Too many bad memories. Staying home was usually preferable. Usually. He was on the 27th Floor, walking beneath Ronbaru’s perpetual night, and he followed the lights. 

Pinball walked through the festival in stealth, slipping through the crowds of players and NPCs, taking little notice of the stalls lining the streets. Food, trinkets, clothes -- a colorful assortment of vanity items to clog the inventory of those who were interested in such things. There were games, which seemed to occupy the attention of most of the players in attendance, but he wasn’t there for that, either. He found her by the lamplighter, with someone else. 

“For me as well, please,” Pinball said, his tone more solemn than he’d meant it to be. He emerged from stealth mid-stride, as Mishiro was receiving her lights. He didn’t waste time attempting to dissect the flurry of emotions in his chest. No point in it. He kept his cloak pulled tightly around his shoulders as he retrieved his. 

 

>> diya lighting: receiving the lights 

[Wulfrin 0]

Every time Wulfrin had a move planned out, another player would show up and disrupt the current state of the game. This wasn't a bad thing mind you, just an unfortunate side effect to an open game that anyone was able to jump in and out of at any point. Once the crowd had dwindled a bit, Wulfrin was finally able to make a move. Gingerly he consecutively chained a few moves together as he perfectly emptied each of the cups. 

"Thanks for the game y'all," Wulfrin stood up from the table. "Getting a bit overwhelmed with all the players coming in and out so I'm going to go and explore a bit more of the event's features. If you want to meet up send me a message."

Wulfrin did as he said he would and began to peruse the other festivities being presented. He stopped breifly to drop off another order of Samais but other than that the entire of the event was free for him to explore.

* * *

GAME #1
Moving six (6) crystals from Row #1:

309   541   [12]
022  403   [13]

GAME #1
Moving one (1) crystals from Row #1:

309   540   [13]
022  403   [13]

GAME #1
Moving four (4) crystals from Row #2:

409   540   [13]
022  014   [14]

* * *

Festival Item Crafts: 11/2/24

Item Name: Ornamental Samai
Profession: Blacksmith
Quantity: 7
Craft IDs: 237268, 237269, 237270, 237272, 237273, 237274, 237275
Post Links: 

Total crafts for event: 23

Edited November 2 by Wulfrin

[Mishiro 0]

she turns the unlit lamp in her hands until she is holding up the side that bears a line of black ink. under the hundred lights of the plaza, she reads the first inscription.

'to our parents who guide our journey--'

“for me as well, please.”

she almost doesn't believe herself. pinball -- unstealthed in the thick of a festive crowd? she looks, almost without moving her head, still holding the peach half shape of her diya. she hasn't spoken to him in two weeks. the warmth and verve emanating from their surroundings seem to sand down his edges in a manner entirely different from the peaceful sunlight of his garden. less funereal; head still bowed to look back at her. she doesn't know what else to say, really. "you were here, too."

but dayanita encounters the stutter customary to every safe zone npc upon being faced with a marked criminal: it hesitates.

"he can have mine," she hears sibyl offer behind her. they had never picked up their lights; theirs remain arrayed neatly on the table in front of them as dayanita had arranged it. "long time no see, pinball," sibyl greets lightly, "i'll leave the two of you to catch up if you agree to deliver my half."

Edited November 9 by Mishiro

[Escudo de Protection 0]

The Spanish man stared around the premises of the large gathering. An event with a large quantity of people was intimidating for most but he mostly mulled around looking at the festive stalls and paid attention to the surrounding conversations as to what this was even about. One word stuck out to him. Diwali. Gears turned in his brain as he thought about this notion of what the significance of this event was even about. He would have to see if there were any loose mouths giving out proper information about it.

Stall after stall, he stared at the multiple items strewn about and he gauged their potential. "Perhaps she would like this..." He spoke aloud while browsing the wares. Between the vendors, food simply smelled exquisite, and he looked around to identify what was strikingly delicious. A kebab. It seemed rather distinct but the person there was an NPC. He wondered if this NPC actually could cook. 

Body leaned over and he smelled the kebab and ordered one. Col was transferred and he nibbled upon the delicacy. 

The food was decent with a strong flavor for a palette of his own. Star anise, cumin, and other familiar flavors seemed to be triggering but he knew that those things wouldn't exist here, would it? He continued down the path and made his way toward the gathering spot. He adorned a sleeveless vest exposing his upper torso to the elements. Taylored pants would allow him freedom of movement as opposed to the heavy mail. Soft yet durable fabric meant not just for style but also protection.

Fiery red hair flowed to the left and he gazed upon Siren within the distance. Perhaps she would see him or perhaps not. Only time would tell as the tall man would move swiftly among the patrons. His eyes looked over the other people and noticed she was speaking to someone. He would wait until she was done before moving into sight. Besides, he had to figure out an item for her to wear when he wanted to at least ask her to be his. Only proper for his culture.

[Andromeda 0]

Was that Mishiro?

For some reason, An immediately ducked behind a stall. She crouched there for a good ten seconds, then she raised herself very slightly so she could peek over the counter. She waited, feeling embarrassedly like some weird subversion of a stalker, as Mishiro apparently changed partners, and the one that departed passed by her hiding place and tossed her a curious glance, and the new pair went off to the edge of the fair. Only then did she stand, apologize politely to the NPC whose business she had invaded (they were very nice about it), and make her way over to Dayanita’s station herself.

“H-hi…” She had heard about the EXP.

“Hello,” Dayanita greeted. She was very gentle and polite. “Would you like to help me deliver these lights?”

“Yeah.”

The woman bundled together a set of five diya lamps and a digital packet of coordinates. “Then please take these. My coworker is managing the lights outside of the plaza. Thank you very much, kind stranger.”

“Thank you.”

An walked off, smoke pouring out of her ears. Oh gosh. She did not mean to sound so stilted. She was going to take a turn around the plaza again so she could avoid another tremendously more awkward encounter.

 

-> Diya Lighting: Receiving the lights.

[Pinball 1]

She seemed surprised to see him here. A part of him was surprised, too. Unstealthed in the thick of a festive crowd, it made him feel naked, exposed; it went against his very nature. He focused on her. It grounded him. Made it just a little more bearable. His response was automatic, reflexive, though no less genuine for it: “Of course.” 

The NPC was hesitant, understandably, but Sibyl offered him his lantern. Pinball nodded, quiet. It had been a long time, and there was nothing he felt he could have said to appropriately fill the silence that followed. 

They hadn’t talked in weeks. He didn’t like how that made him feel. He held the lantern with one hand. He was grateful for the cloak around his shoulders. Pinball turned his attention to Mishiro. His voice was soft, a murmur. “Are you ready?”
 

[Mishiro 0]

"great! thanks. take as long as you need."

and with not another pause, sibyl wanders off in the direction of the pallankuli tables, leaving her to peer down at the card they had pressed into her palm. map data. mishiro but closes her hand over it, thankful and faintly apologetic. but it is no trouble at all.

"yes. let's be off," she tells pinball. she about turns and leads him outside, into the soft, quiet night of a ronbaru temporarily emptied.

for a while they walk side by side in silence. the lights of the festival fade far behind until they are nothing more than a vague splash of orange limning the tops of the buildings that came between them. they are familiarly, devastatingly, alone. and she does not want to talk about it.

mishiro clasps the arch of the basket holding her lamps. she retrieves the one she had been looking at prior and they pass beneath the circle of a street light. "from what i heard from dayanita, we're meant to reflect on these inscriptions before delivering the lamps to the lamplighter." she runs the flat of her thumb across the words, thinking. "shall i say mine out loud? i feel that i would be wasting your company otherwise. you're free to just listen or join in."

| ‘to our parents who guide our journey, we grant of you this blessing.’

they continue to walk. her form loses clarity in the shadows.

"i had parents."

--two. a large house. no siblings. still, so, suffocating. they loved you but only the parts you had carefully picked out like specimens. so did they really? were you at fault for not letting them try?--

(hold on a moment.)

(whose memories are these?)

she stops. the girl, standing just shy of another street light, drops her gaze to the lamp cupped in her hands. the ink flickers briefly. stays unlit. she stares at it like she has never seen it before, but at the sudden remembrance that she is not alone, she comes back to herself with a suppressed jolt. to pinball's watchful eye, she would have only bent her index fingers along the bowl's rim.

"no," she breathes. she draws the next words from the mire of her thoughts and she imagines she is holding them in her hands, uncomprehending. "i... i think i lost them. i might not be suited to this topic at all." she suddenly loathes that she had even thought to bring it up. but first, she raises her head, walks forward to gently grasp pinball's sleeve. resumes their walk, urging him along with her. "sorry. i'm just now learning that i don't actually have an answer for this one. do you want to say yours out loud, too? i'll listen."

somewhere, cardinal decides that the lack of an answer is an answer in itself. her first lamp's inscription burns away.

Edited Monday at 02:12 AM by Mishiro

[Styx 0]

>> STYX has:  attached file(s): [STATS]  Styx - HP: 20/20 | EN: 20/20 | DMG: 4    Spoiler EQUIPPED GEAR: SKILLS: > R1 | Thrown Weaponry  > > EXTRA SKILLS: MODS: CONSUMABLES USED:  > x3 Starter Healing Potions (Heals 50 HP) BATTLE-READY:  BUFFS:

ph

---

ID: 237394 CD: 12 ID: 237395 CD: 3 ID: 237396 CD: 8 Total CD: 23 + Blessing of Barkskin | Tier 1 Unique Consumable +25 MIT. Stacks with other existing Mitigation effects. Has three (3) charges, and will be destroyed upon its last use.

 

Edited November 11 by Styx

[Arabelle 0]

she is almost embarrassed to say -- she has ridden horses so few times in aincrad that she has to be retaught at every occurrence. but why not try again today? she is on a leisure trip and perhaps the lesson might stick for once.

the stablehand, who introduces herself as ashvini, sets aside her work for a moment to teach her the basics. mounting and dismounting, the correct posture, the correct hand and foot movements to direct the horse where and how fast to go, the do's and the do not's. she guides the gentlest mare out of a stall and offers arabelle an apple to feed it. arabelle gingerly pets its neck as it enjoys the treat and giggles in delight when it nuzzles her back. then with more care, she mounts the horse and sits a bit stiffly atop the saddle, the reins loose in her hands, as it walks in a slow circle around the available space in front of the stable.

when she gets back, her audience has grown by one.

"arabelle...!" an is standing beside ashvini, a bundle tucked in her arm as she claps. she has toned herself down greatly to avoid startling the mount. "hi," she greets, suddenly, adorably, shy. "sorry for butting in! i, ah, didn't know you liked horses."

she hasn't been around horses long enough to decide if she likes them. did seeing them in movies count?

"this kind girl was just teaching me how to ride. do you want to join me, love? we could take a turn around ronbaru."

ashvini smiles. an swings her bundle in front of her. "y-yes!"

 

-> diwali lighting: receiving the lights (from andromeda).

[Acanthus 0]

Nearly a week passed before Acanthus gathered up the strength to return to the event. She walked stiffly down the main street, toward Dayanita. Everyone else here is wearing the same clothes as you. It’s just your stupid brain telling you stupid things.

She passed by the pallankuli tables. She’d already put in enough work on those. It was time to let other people have fun and enjoy themselves. And she brushed past Hiten without so much as a second glance. Her Aarti probably hadn’t been good enough to merit any further submissions.

Dayanita greeted her neutrally. “Traveler, would you please help me?” The same line from last week. Acanthus nodded weakly. “I’m just here for the experience,” she said to herself. “As soon as I light the lamps, I can go home and relax again.”

Although if you’re just here for the experience, why are you subjecting yourself to the saree?

* * *

Receiving the diya from Dayanita.

[Arabelle 0]

it takes a great amount of an-typical stammering and fumbling, 'no, it's fine, really!'s, for her friend to let arabelle hold on to her baggage as she rushes off into the stable with ashvini to prepare. waiting, arabelle slightly indulges her curiosity. the bag is made out of cloth, closed at the top with a drawstring. it would be rude to open it outright and poke about an's things, but nothing stops arabelle from trying to feel out the shapes of its contents through the fabric.

these are... bowls? more additions to the dragon hoard of items an likes to keep in her shop?

the clop of hooves, orderly, marks her friend's return. an rides up to her, then stops with a gentle tug on her reins. in the short time she had to prepare, she'd changed into a riding habit, whipped off her cap and pulled her hair back into a messy bun. she sits atop her horse, straight-backed and with practiced ease -- but too quickly does the illusion break when her eyes catch arabelle staring, speechless, and her cheeks redden with a blush.

arabelle barely restrains a laugh.

so cute.

ashvini sees them off with more snacks and a reminder to take good care of their borrowed mounts, and the two make for the edge of the fair where there are less festival goers to mind. soon, by some unspoken agreement, they had left the plaza entirely.

the long white train of her robes falls past the stirrups. "i didn't know you liked horses," arabelle starts, playfully accusing.

“i-i-i-i-i don’t!! er--” an sends a guilty look in the direction of the stables. "maybe i used to? i, um, might have taken riding lessons... once every week when i was a kid... and then i, h-had a horse. we kept him in a stable, not at our property, but um. he was mine." an gulps. "his name was connor."

arabelle smiles. she could have snapped her in half.

"i see. did you pick this one because it resembled your old horse? tell me more."

despite the gap in their experience, an matches arabelle's slow pace. she doesn't attempt to ride ahead or circle her, or show off. light conversation and easy spirits take the bubbly night's fore. they break after a quarter-hour of riding and arabelle briefly dismounts, steadying herself on an's hand. she offers her mare a treat in gratitude for the smooth ride and happily rubs its head when it dips low enough for her to reach.

-> DIYA LIGHTING: 5/5 PROMPTS ANSWERED.

Spoiler

| ‘to our parents who guide our journey, we grant of you this blessing.’

an discloses the contents of the bag and the errand she is on eventually. she wants to take the long route around and arabelle wants to enjoy another person's company for the night. a perfect arrangement. the lamps change hands but an is quick to give one back when arabelle takes out a glowstone from her inventory. shining it over the inscription, she reads the words out loud and --

covers the stone with her hand so that neither of them could see the other in the renewed darkness.

her parents? does she want to dig through her trash again?

they ride in silence, one deep in thought, the other shy.

"oh, i get it," arabelle says.

fine, then, but let an pour out hers, too, arabelle thinks. she turns an open expression of concern to the girl at her side as she draws her hand back from the glowstone. "but the other side is a bit of a sensitive topic for most people. are you sure you want to share this with me, anyway? i'd completely understand if you don't."

her girl lights up like the invitation was all she had been waiting for. "yeah! this is easy." the words that follow are quick and as certain as an could ever get, borne on a level of detachment that could only have been wrought by time. "i was with them the day we came here... with them back outside, i mean -- no one came with me here. they think this kind of superstitious stuff is silly so i doubt they'd accept my blessings if i could give it to them, but... i just hope they aren't too worried!"

"are you?" arabelle pries.

an's voice drops, becoming more subdued. "a little. but i know i'll make it out of here and see them again. then i'll never be wanting for stories to share at dinner." she glances arabelle's way. "so, um..."

"i pray that my mother and father reach the place they have always yearned for."

how is that for a blessing? she is perfect at prayers, she must say; the only problem is, she is asking it from an undefined god. but better that, against condemnation, she had thought to ask at all, yes? her eyes shut against the inscription's flame, arabelle smiles, serene, as she returns the lamp to an. she says in truth, "i love them both dearly."

| ‘to our siblings who stand with us, we grant of you this blessing.’

"i don't have siblings," an says, dismayed.

arabelle would have had her down for a stressed, timid oldest child. fearful of yet unable to separate from expectation. still decently reliable. "so you had the monopoly on your caretakers' attention! how does that feel like?"

"um." an presses her fingers together. "they were kind of... always super busy."

oh.

she is at ease hearing it.

"but it's fine," an quickly adds. "i wouldn't have had so much, ah, freedom, i think, if they weren't. how many do you have?"

"eleven."

an's jaw drops. "p-pardon?"

mirth colors arabelle's response. "eleven. i was the second. i mean it biologically, if you were going to ask." (an had the question brewing in her mind, but she would never had voiced it. too scared to claim the things she deserves, she is.) "there were no remarriages nor adoptions in the equation."

an crunches the numbers in her head in increasing horror.

"so. nine more came after you. that's about one every other--"

"well, you see, dear an," arabelle says, raising an index finger in the air as though she is about to give a lecture, "when a man and a woman love each other very much--"

an slaps her hands over her ears. "stop."

 

 

"but did you have a favorite? you can't love all ten the same, right? or maybe you could. oh, sorry...! maybe it was rude of me to ask."

"everyone has. favorite parents, favorite siblings, favorite children, etc. we just like to keep secrets, because then, what happens to the one left behind when they find out? it's saving the lessers in its own way." arabelle brings her hand to her lips and lowers her voice conspiratorially. the secret is passed across the space between their mounts. "her name was frederica. before this all started, she was nine. i pray that she has grown up well. that is the blessing i most wish to ask for."

| ‘to our partners who stay with us, we grant of you this blessing.’

two in a row. an visibly wilts.

arabelle claps her hands together, delighted. she believes they are both interpreting it romantically. "i had guessed this one was coming!" but one simply doesn't brag about their conquests when their friend is down and out. it is tactless. she continues on a different vein, "but i haven't been seeing anyone as of late. no one worth talking about. really, i could not fully put into words how uninteresting men become when you drop them in a power fantasy and give them a sword. it rots their brains! suddenly they are the heroes they've always dreamed of, the quixotic edgelords, the respected leaders of this world! -- all because they can swing a weapon. as if they would have held up in a bigger pond."

like the simple girl that she is, an visibly perks up. "but you still pursue them."

"an. do you like every meal that you eat?"

| ‘to our friends who walk alongside us, we grant of you this blessing.’

an passes her the fourth light.

"i don't have to think about this one at all," arabelle comments. someone already matches the description down to the letter -- er, let's say, they are riding alongside her at a walking pace? -- she turns to an, raising the lamp to her cheek, and she tilts her head and gives her a sparkling smile. "we're friends!"

had an been a less experienced rider, she would have fallen off her horse. "we are?!"

"an...!" arabelle drops her hand, resuming her hold on the reins. "would i have spent all this time with you if i thought you were nothing to me?"

an had started to babble something incomprehensible, perhaps even to herself. she stops. nods vigorously. "no. no. of course. that makes a lot of sense. i l-like being your friend," she admits, bashful. she lowers her eyes to the horn of her saddle, but from a sidelong glance, arabelle sees that she's smiling, too.

"so do i."

and she decides, quite impulsively, quite because of the look on an's face, that this sweet, nervous girl deserves nothing but the truth. she shuts her eyes. "then i'll dedicate this blessing to you. an, love, i am immensely glad i saved you back then. i have never regretted any of the visits i paid your shop. you are a delight to be around and i wish i had more time to spend with you. i pray that we never let our businesses get in the way of our friendship."

here is the proof: the inscription burns.

after, an is quiet. arabelle glances at her friend once again, sees that her head's dropped lower and her hands are trembling ever so slightly over the reins.

"an?"

"i love you, arabelle."

"i know."

| ‘to those who will come after us, we will owe to you this blessing.’

what a line. the last diya and glowstone keep switching hands.

it ends with arabelle again, clueless. "the... next generation? children?"

an gasps. "t-t-t-they're bringing in a second wave!! it's fulldive trap, round two! how on earth are they planning to trick people this time around? wouldn't virtual realities have been outlawed at this point? subjected to heavier regulations?"

"i don't believe many of our players have children," arabelle is musing out loud, still stuck. "or even thought of having them. these inscriptions aren't personalized, are they? no. these are yours. how could they?"

an could have asked her and she would have lied. but an was blind. her previous thought process screeches to a halt and a new one starts up. "wait, what if we should take it in the literal sense? 'those who will come after us' -- literally? but i don't have any enemies! arabelle, are you being pursued by someone?"

"if i am," she says innocently, "i pray that they die."

and when they reach the station and set matches to the wicks of their diyas, the lamplighter congratulates arabelle instead of an, and suspicions fall on the fact that arabelle had held each of the candles as they talked. an, furious, pouts, "so i have to do it all over again?!" above her, arabelle titters, "let's circle back, love. we'll make it a fair trade."

Edited Saturday at 01:37 PM by Arabelle

[Pinball 1]

He was mostly unfamiliar with what lighting the lamps would entail. But he didn’t need to. Mishiro was always quick to fill him in on such things. He was not surprised to find that it involved airing out incredibly personal information, but he wasn’t too happy about it either. Pinball tried not to let that show. “You can,” he said. "I'll listen." Pinball got quiet. He let her speak. She had parents. Or did she? Her form lost clarity in the shadows, not entirely unlike the past she couldn’t quite seem to grasp. Pinball watched her struggle with the memories. The disconnect was not lost on him, though if he had something to say about it, he kept it to himself. 

“It’s alright,” he said. He wasn't sure if it was. He should be worried -- but it was a lot easier to brush it off and try to pretend as though everything was alright. He was good at that, wasn’t he? He didn’t like to see her struggle. He didn't like to press her, either. Pinball held his lantern aloft. 

| “to our parents who guide our journey, we grant of you this blessing.” 

It occurred to him rather quickly that despite everything he had gone through, he had never really stopped to consider how his parents might be doing on the outside. Why was that? 

“I didn’t have much of a relationship with them,” he murmured. “They weren’t around a lot -- or no, actually, I just kept to myself. We didn't talk much.” 

The idea of it sounded so strange to him, now that he was saying it out loud. They lived together. How could he possibly not have much of a relationship with them? It sounded crazy. Most of his memories involved him playing games or reading alone in his room. He’d bounced around houses and schools for most of his life. He’d grown to love solitude. Wasn’t it all he had? Why didn’t they push him to be more social? Why didn’t they try to foster a connection with him? Had they? Were they disconnected, or had he pushed them away? He couldn’t remember. It had been much too long. 

“I don’t know.” The inscription on his lantern burned away. He suddenly felt embarrassed. He peered down at the lantern’s altered appearance. His next thoughts were mumbled out loud. “Okay. Guess that counts.” 

He was done talking about it anyway.