[Aelwyn grins when Mercy stands up and gives her speech, sipping from a mug of hot chocolate. There's a glimmer of pride and affection, which is common whenever Mercy does anything really, and for once Aelwyn feels more willing to let the warmth spread to her own horrid little heart.]
She really pulled out all the stops. [They both did but she's here for her girl.]
II. Flower Crowns
[She can be seen a bit later, trying a flower crown on. It reminds her of Penelope, and for once she doesn't feel so against that concept. It doesn't make her feel guilty or sad or angry or spiteful. She adjusts it on her head and looks at whoever she knows nearby.]
Wanna get a photo?
III. Graves & Food
[The attention brought towards the graves being disturbed... worries her a little. She does her best not to react to any of it beyond a vaguely concerned hum.
Yes, zombies are certainly a possibility, of course. She can make doubly sure using magic, if it comes to that, since this is a grave potential threat.
She wishes she had the magic to make the grass grow over the dirt so everyone would shut up about it. She might be snacking on some chocolate strawberries when she's found sat upon one of the graves, watching the guests with something approaching caution or skepticism.
Kate has picked a simple flower crown for herself. When Aelwyn asks her if she wants a photo, she stops adjusting her hair around the crown. (Vanity! Thy name is Kate.)
[Mercy has a plate with some meats and cheeses that she'd picked up when she'd spied Aelwyn heading off with chocolate fruit. Why not have a little private moment with her girlfriend? Out amongst the graves... it would be nice! When she sees the concern on the other woman's face, though, she tempers some of her own enthusiasm.
She absolutely ignores the disturbed graves.]
You're looking like you got a fair few thoughts in your head, love. Something buzzing in there I can help with?
[She doesn't wait for an invitation, just settles herself next to Aelwyn and leans against her.]
[Similarly, Aelwyn wraps an arm around Mercy and leans her cheek against the top of Mercy's head.]
I'm thinking that you've done an amazing job, sweet. [She was thinking that before, though the anxieties go unmentioned. At least for now. Mercy just being there soothes a lot of her anxieties anyway.
She presses a kiss against Mercy's head for good measure.]
Aw, I had plenty of help. You talked much to Rue, yet? They've got something like thousands of years of experience doing this sort of thing. Wouldn't know it from looking at 'em.
[A pause.]
Especially not right now. Wish they got to spend the day looking like how they wanted. You, too. Miss your ears when I can't 'em. Although, maybe it make it easier to tease you a little without anyone seeing anything.
[Her voice sing-songs. There are plans afoot now, but they require moving, and she's rather comfortable being held and stroked. It might be better to spring things on Aelwyn, anyway. A nice little ear-rub when she's least expecting it!]
Didn't realize you had folk like them, though. Or- Well. You heard anything about this Dungeons and Dragons business Eddie's getting up to? I been working on creating a character for the game he's working to run, and some of the things in the books he showed us and what he's been saying... Some of it sounds a little like what I've heard you say about magic and how it works.
[Aelwyn is quite happy lounging on her throne of pride and hubris, ignorant of what's to come. Instead she closes her eyes and listens.]
Mm. I noticed that too.
[She hums in contemplation.]
I can think of a few good reasons of why that might be. It's a bit bizarre, and I can't imagine it's a coincidence but... well, I think if I explained all the logistics of how that could happen we'd be here a while.
Who are you playing? I was thinking a cleric. [Because Mercy seems like she'd be a cleric.]
[It's Mercy's best guess as to how that might happen.]
I'm a healer, though, yeah! Lady Amalthea Cutthroat, a pirate cleric. Sails the open seas taking down her foes and healing her crew. It reminds me of some of the games I'd play with my friends when I was little. There was a fellow named Warwick. We was thick as thieves when we were saplings. He'd be Captain Blackbeard, and I'd be his First Mate.
[There's a wistfulness that comes to her tone as she continues.]
We had a whole little crew playing with us for a while.
Close, but not quite. My guess is that their world is a sphere largely closed off from outer planar influence, but not immune to it, so some influence crept in.
[She does not like... comprehend that they're not in DND anymore. The fact that Kalina isn't here is weird but even two years later she's still not convinced that Kalina isn't just lying in wait.
She looks at Mercy as she speaks on her friend, and there's both a twang of sympathetic pain and something a bit uglier. Jealousy, probably.
Playing was never the kind of luxury afforded to them. If they wasted a moment of their immortal lives on such frivolities then they were ungrateful leeches.
It's awful because she knows that this is just another thing that Mercy had taken away from her.]
My sister's friends with an actual pirate. Or the son of one anyway. [She's not sure what else to add. Her eyes hover over the graves. She wonders if he's dead yet.] I've never played any kind of game like this. The numbers and rules all make sense to me but I'm not sure about the rest.
[The wonderful thing about graveyards is how quiet they are. Everyone is alone with their grief, and solitude and despair are two of Wednesday's favorite feelings. If she must be around people, let it be in a graveyard.
But there people invading Old Bridge Street Burying Ground today are not mourners. They're...
...festival-goers.
A shiver runs up her spine at the thought of a bright and cheery festival to celebrate the spring.
But she's minding her own business, noting the names and dates on the disturbed graves, planning to come back later with a shovel and see if there's anything interesting - or nothing at all - buried in them.]
Can you move?
[She recognizes Aelwyn, but social niceties like 'hi' and 'how have you been' aren't really in her repertoire.]
[She relaxes against the headstone, recounting as if by memory.]
Patrick W. Blakely, born 1939 and died 1965. "A brave soldier." From what I can tell he died in the Vietnam War. Which was apparently pretty nasty from what I've read.
I take it you come here often.
[It seems to be the natural habitat of angsty goths obsessed with pain, suffering and death. Like Zayn Darkshadow, now that she thinks about it.]
Yes. Estimates of the death toll range in the millions. [She's not a military historian by any means, but she knows her mass casualty events.] Not to mention the millions more who died of complications due to exposure to chemical weapons.
Interesting that a Vietnam War vet is among those whose graves have been disturbed. The others she's seen have been older headstones. She'll have to keep digging. Figuratively and literally.
As for whether she comes here often...] I find graveyards relaxing. When they aren't overrun with picnickers.
[Exactly like Zayn Darkshadow. Although, maybe not. He'd probably say he finds the dreadful energy soothing to his blackened soul or whatever. He was kind of a loser.]
You probably would have preferred the old religion she practiced. Very death related. Very morbid.
[She hooks a cigarette from the box in her coat pocket and sticks it between her teeth.]
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apocalypsehowcomm2023-02-24 10:08 am
Aelwyn Abernant | Fantasy High | OTA
[Aelwyn grins when Mercy stands up and gives her speech, sipping from a mug of hot chocolate. There's a glimmer of pride and affection, which is common whenever Mercy does anything really, and for once Aelwyn feels more willing to let the warmth spread to her own horrid little heart.]
She really pulled out all the stops. [They both did but she's here for her girl.]
II. Flower Crowns
[She can be seen a bit later, trying a flower crown on. It reminds her of Penelope, and for once she doesn't feel so against that concept. It doesn't make her feel guilty or sad or angry or spiteful. She adjusts it on her head and looks at whoever she knows nearby.]
Wanna get a photo?
III. Graves & Food
[The attention brought towards the graves being disturbed... worries her a little. She does her best not to react to any of it beyond a vaguely concerned hum.
Yes, zombies are certainly a possibility, of course. She can make doubly sure using magic, if it comes to that, since this is a grave potential threat.
She wishes she had the magic to make the grass grow over the dirt so everyone would shut up about it. She might be snacking on some chocolate strawberries when she's found sat upon one of the graves, watching the guests with something approaching caution or skepticism.
Come see what's up?]
II
"Yeah. Sure."
Re: II
"Having fun?"
no subject
III
She absolutely ignores the disturbed graves.]
You're looking like you got a fair few thoughts in your head, love. Something buzzing in there I can help with?
[She doesn't wait for an invitation, just settles herself next to Aelwyn and leans against her.]
no subject
I'm thinking that you've done an amazing job, sweet. [She was thinking that before, though the anxieties go unmentioned. At least for now. Mercy just being there soothes a lot of her anxieties anyway.
She presses a kiss against Mercy's head for good measure.]
no subject
[A pause.]
Especially not right now. Wish they got to spend the day looking like how they wanted. You, too. Miss your ears when I can't 'em. Although, maybe it make it easier to tease you a little without anyone seeing anything.
[The grin on her lips is well in her voice.]
no subject
[She grins against Mercy's hair, rubbing her arm affectionately.]
I've spoken to them, yeah. They're an owlbear, you know. They might actually be from somewhere adjacent to my world.
no subject
[Her voice sing-songs. There are plans afoot now, but they require moving, and she's rather comfortable being held and stroked. It might be better to spring things on Aelwyn, anyway. A nice little ear-rub when she's least expecting it!]
Didn't realize you had folk like them, though. Or- Well. You heard anything about this Dungeons and Dragons business Eddie's getting up to? I been working on creating a character for the game he's working to run, and some of the things in the books he showed us and what he's been saying... Some of it sounds a little like what I've heard you say about magic and how it works.
sorry this is late
Mm. I noticed that too.
[She hums in contemplation.]
I can think of a few good reasons of why that might be. It's a bit bizarre, and I can't imagine it's a coincidence but... well, I think if I explained all the logistics of how that could happen we'd be here a while.
Who are you playing? I was thinking a cleric. [Because Mercy seems like she'd be a cleric.]
No worries!
[It's Mercy's best guess as to how that might happen.]
I'm a healer, though, yeah! Lady Amalthea Cutthroat, a pirate cleric. Sails the open seas taking down her foes and healing her crew. It reminds me of some of the games I'd play with my friends when I was little. There was a fellow named Warwick. We was thick as thieves when we were saplings. He'd be Captain Blackbeard, and I'd be his First Mate.
[There's a wistfulness that comes to her tone as she continues.]
We had a whole little crew playing with us for a while.
no subject
[She does not like... comprehend that they're not in DND anymore. The fact that Kalina isn't here is weird but even two years later she's still not convinced that Kalina isn't just lying in wait.
She looks at Mercy as she speaks on her friend, and there's both a twang of sympathetic pain and something a bit uglier. Jealousy, probably.
Playing was never the kind of luxury afforded to them. If they wasted a moment of their immortal lives on such frivolities then they were ungrateful leeches.
It's awful because she knows that this is just another thing that Mercy had taken away from her.]
My sister's friends with an actual pirate. Or the son of one anyway. [She's not sure what else to add. Her eyes hover over the graves. She wonders if he's dead yet.] I've never played any kind of game like this. The numbers and rules all make sense to me but I'm not sure about the rest.
III
But there people invading Old Bridge Street Burying Ground today are not mourners. They're...
...festival-goers.
A shiver runs up her spine at the thought of a bright and cheery festival to celebrate the spring.
But she's minding her own business, noting the names and dates on the disturbed graves, planning to come back later with a shovel and see if there's anything interesting - or nothing at all - buried in them.]
Can you move?
[She recognizes Aelwyn, but social niceties like 'hi' and 'how have you been' aren't really in her repertoire.]
You're blocking the headstone I'm trying to read.
no subject
[She relaxes against the headstone, recounting as if by memory.]
Patrick W. Blakely, born 1939 and died 1965. "A brave soldier." From what I can tell he died in the Vietnam War. Which was apparently pretty nasty from what I've read.
I take it you come here often.
[It seems to be the natural habitat of angsty goths obsessed with pain, suffering and death. Like Zayn Darkshadow, now that she thinks about it.]
no subject
Interesting that a Vietnam War vet is among those whose graves have been disturbed. The others she's seen have been older headstones. She'll have to keep digging. Figuratively and literally.
As for whether she comes here often...] I find graveyards relaxing. When they aren't overrun with picnickers.
cw for underaged smoking
You probably would have preferred the old religion she practiced. Very death related. Very morbid.
[She hooks a cigarette from the box in her coat pocket and sticks it between her teeth.]
Want one?