Winter Lights Festival (Come One, Come All)

[Amon]

oocSorry Ronin. Amon had not spoken yet, but his attention seemed to be focused on the tables. At the same time he had heard the call of someone in particular who seemed quite aggressive about getting his attention and had turned his back on the crowd to address who it was that had needed him so desperately. It was then that he felt the soft weight of Chemar on his shoulder, the words from her lips and the soft kiss that followed. He knew that kiss. It was as familiar as her voice, and as he closed his eyes in silence, Amon felt an overwhelming sense of…. Relief that it was her. He hadn’t known how long he waited for her company until she finally appeared out of the mass of crimson heads jostled about. “If I had a say, I wouldn’t be here. It was not my choice, you devious lady.” He smiled as he turned and planted a kiss on her cheek. “It has been too long, Chemar. I apologize for not visiting the Dreaming Lady sooner. Zulrav knows I need it.” He rubbed his neck, as if attempting to eradicate a muscled knot and was about to say something more until a young man decided to collide into Chemar and himself. The Endal, fortunately, had held Chemar tightly to him to avoid her collapsing, but the look in his eyes betrayed his rising vehemence. “Are you blind?” Amon barked, releasing Chemar and stepping forward to deliver a vicious kick in the poor boy‘s nether regions, “It would be wise to assume caution around your betters, child, as I don’t have the patience for idiocy.” What was causing the torrent of anger? Amon wasn’t so sure anymore. He had grabbed a lit candle from a bewildered bystander and shoved it into Ronin’s hand. “Enjoy the Festival of Lights.” Grabbing Chemar’s hand, he led them away and through the throng of bodies. “I would have cut him had you not been there.” He said plainly.

[Chemar Tisserand]

Chemar's attention had been solely focused on Amon when Ronin plowed into them. Thank goodness for the strong arm around her or she would surely have wound up in a tangle of limbs on the floor of the gallery. Before she could even turn to see who it was Amon had already reacted, and the sickening sound of his crushing kick made her stomach ache in sympathy in spite of her missing those parts that would be screaming in pain on the boy. Standing mute, she stared until Amon pulled her away. The beads in her hair chiming musically, an ironically sweet soundtrack to the demonstration of aggression she'd just witnessed. Her eyes locked on Amon as they rushed away from the boy, though not apparent initially, she could now see a change in nearly every aspect of his demeanor, save his response to her. The speed at which a sweet kiss on the cheek had switched to a swift and painful retaliation had Chemar a little bewildered, what had happened to Amon in the time between their meetings. She would find out, even if she had to lead him through his nightmares to do it. When he spoke of her as the agent of his restraint, she leaned close, speaking softly. "Will it be necessary for me to be where ever you are, just to keep you from trouble?" She tugged a bit on his hand to slow their speed, then guided his back toward the wall of the gallery, pressing him there with a hand splayed on his chest. For several moments she just looked at him, holding him there without much pressure. "That was a mighty reaction...for a rather insignificant action..." She paused, watching his eyes. "You may very well have prevented the young one from every making a lad in his own image."She moved her hand from his chest, and began rubbing her palms quickly over one another..heating the skin beneath them with the friction of her movement. Without speaking, she threaded her hot hands under his hair, to curl them around the base of his neck in an attempt to dissolve the knot that held its tension there. "Relax." She pressed her hands there until she felt the tension begin to release, and she leaned close, resting her forehead against his. Her hands slipped down to rest on either side of his face and she smiled a quiet little smile. "Where did this new Amon come from?" Her smile shifted to a smirk. "He's very...vigorous."

[Kovac]

As Kovac watched the crowd, a familiar figure emerged, the ratty-maned Amon. The Endal approached and stopped to stand nearby. The Avora gave him a nod, but the two remained silent. Not many words had passed between them since the knife fight with Qual in the kitchens. An awkward moment passed before Kovac turned to make a snarky comment about Amon's hair when the woman from the Dreaming Lady slid up and draped herself over the rider....again. With a roll of his eyes, the archer was about to walk away when the young glassblower barreled into the couple. Kovac was startled by the fury of Amon's response, kicking the boy like he was a Dek. Of all the male Endal, Amon was one that the Avora had found to be different, a man with some substance and redeeming quality. Or so he thought. As the boy rolled on the ground in pain, Kovac gave Amon a piercing stare. The rider ignored him and dragged Chemar away. Yeah, maybe in the end they really are all the same. Shaking his head at the writhing artisan, Kovac turned away and moved along the edge of the bustle. He spotted a waifish girl in a corner curiously laying cards out before her. He paused, looking down at the teenager. "Kid, what's with the cards?"

[Ronin]

oocHaha, its cool. It figures that my first post would be responded to with a swift kick to the plumbs. Lol. Ronin fell again to the ground trying his best to conceal the pain from the kick. He knew his place, and that it was not his right to retaliate in any way. Even when his hand was burned by the candle, he made only the sound of a grunt of pain. Almost as bad as the pain was the utter humiliation he suffered as a small crowd gathered to see what was going on. As Amon walked away, Ronin brought himself up to his knees and sat there fighting the resentment in his mind. He decided it would be best to walk away as quickly as possible so he wouldn't do anything he'd regret. Keeping his eyes down, so as not to make eye contact with anyone in the crowd, he made his way over to registration table for the glass-work event. Quickly, he jotted down his name, with the wrong hand due to the burn, and nodded to the man at the table. The man looked at him with sympathy and pointed in the direction of the workstations for the competitors. Ronin did his best to slink away without running into anyone else. His thoughts had once again shifted to his work.

[Feyra]

The Winter Lights Festival. It was a time that Feyra looked forward to each year, as much for the relief of Winter itself as for the events. Although this year it would be different. A smile wound over her features as she thought about the coming days. She entered the Gallery and immediately scanned the area. Jade eyes lingered on a few faces, she recognized many. But she didn't move to interact with anyone, Feyra didn't consider herself to have many friends she could just approach whenever she fancied. She listened silently to Kaden's words, and, after his exit, allowed herself to be hurried along further into the Stained Glass Gallery by the jostling crowds. She immediately sought out the Stained Glass registration table. After a moments hesitation, she signed her name with a flourish, before moving away to allow others access. Another smile appeared on her face. This was the year that she'd be trying to create something herself. Every time she'd entered beforehand, she had been in the role of 'designer'. This year however, she was confident that she could make a valid contribution. Sure, there would most likely be people far more skilled entering, but Ferya figured she'd have to take the leap sometime. Wandering away from the registration table, she was startled by the sight of a boy, cringing upon the floor in pain. An Endal seemed to be walking away from him, so Feyra assumed that something had passed between the two. She was about to approach when he picked himself up and headed towards the registration tables. With a shrug, Feyra moved along the walls and spotted a girl laying out cards. She paused for a moment and watched as another approached her, and spoke. Feyra couldn't hear what he said over noise of the crowd, so she hung back, leaning against the wall, watching the two.

[Sira]

Normally Sira was one of the ones who hid on the edge of the crowd, watching everyone else and waiting for something interesting to happen. But this year she had promised herself she was not going to be that way, this year she was going to make some new friends and have a good time for once. When the altercation broke out between the Endal and the Avora, dismissing the incident as commonplace and strode over to something of a bit more interest. Walking up next to Kovac to investigate the girl with the cards, she nodded a greeting to the hunter and stared down at the girl with the cards. "Oh! Are you going to do some card tricks for us? I love card tricks.. I don't know how they do it, but they always guess my card. It's amazing!" Sira loved magic tricks, or anything out of the ordinary really. Anything that one didn't normally see in Wind Reach fascinated her, from outsiders to rare items from beyond the mountains. So naturally the idea of a magic show, even one just involving cards excited her quite a bit. OOCbleh... short post

[Twik]

Twik leafed through her cards, looking at the various pictures and daydreaming about what they meant. How nice it must be to go to strange places and see odd and exciting sights! Always supposing there were no monsters to devour you along the way. The cards were new and the cardboard on which they had been printed still crisp, and she shuffled them lovingly and with an amplitude of care. Looking up, she saw a man and woman approaching her.

Twik greeted Kovac and Sira with cheerful smile. “I propose to tell your fortunes, and you two are here just in the nick of time as far as we know! Who knows what fate awaits you around the corner? And why be so mundane as to just wait and see when I have what appear to be magical cards ready to reveal all?”

She patted the ground next to here. “Who will be first? I assure you it is quite painless unless the news is bad, in which case I shall explain it in a tactful way with a sympathetic expression. And the value is ten times the price, which in this case is free.”

If one of her visitors looked interested, she would hand them the deck.
“Just shuffle them around a bit so that you are responsible for what cards are on the top. I perform a reading called the ‘Three Fingered Hand of Fate,’ which probably comes with some sort of guarantee.”

[Amon]

Amon was completely unaware of his utter lack of remorse or his growing temperament. It was as if the façade of the just and sociable Amon had completely deteriorated, and what was left was a husk of what once was. The facet of the once honorable man was hidden at best, and, oblivious to the Endal, was unobtainable. Not in this current state; not without aid. But aid had come in the form of the woman that now held him in place against the wall of the gallery, and maintained his gaze as if she were hypnotizing him. “I would not object to that,” He remarked simply, a small smile tugging on his lips despite the recent outburst that occurred not chimes before. The rider wasn’t sure what Chemar meant with her next words. She was alluding to something, something that unfortunately went beyond him. “He crossed me, and I dealt with him. Is that not what we have always done throughout history?” He retorted, “Besides, I didn’t hit him as viciously as you assume. He will recover.” His voice was unnervingly nonchalant, despite the fact that he spoke about harming another. But his eyes, once transfixed on her own had shifted to her moving hands, which carefully moved to release the knot that so irritated him the last few days. It was a relief, and one he felt was wholly necessary. “I’m relaxed.” He said softly. Foreheads together, he took the time given to him to admire her beautiful eyes. They would always be an aspect of her that he appreciated and loved. The eyes of emerald; of grass and leaves; of Caiyha’s grand realm. But when she spoke, he looked perplexed. “New Amon? Vigorous? Have I not always been this way?”

[Chemar Tisserand]

As the words left Amon's lips it became clear that he was far to close to see the changes that had manifested in him, leaving Chemar with a delicate task before her. As confusion drew his brow together, she lifted her hand to press the pad of her thumb on the bridge of his nose, she pressed it toward his forehead smoothing the line that had begun to settle there. Chemar was not equipped for deceit, her habit for the truth was ingrained, first by her father, and then by the employ she'd set herself to. There was no room for untruths when dealing with the intricate balance of a person's dreams, so when Amon seemed so surprised at her statement, she needed to bring it to light for him. "Vigorous..yes, of course. You always have been." She dropped her hand, taking with it the drawn brow. Outwardly, he was the same as he had been, but there was a brevity in his patience that had awoken concern in her. The path to his anger had become abbreviated, and that was not the man she had known."Many days have passed since you've let me in your head, perhaps we should make a date." A smile played on her lips, her invitation hanging between them. "Amon, somewhere along the line, you seem to me to have shrugged out of your happiness, and that worries me." She cocked her head to the side, offering herself a different perspective of him and a wee bit of added comfort as the glass tears in her hair softly chimed. Having been witness to his darkest visions, she felt at ease with him and she knew that nothing said by her in his waking life would hurt him."We will go together, and find it." She nodded, holding him now with only the strength of her gaze. Her hands were laced together, and resting across her stomach. Having said what was on her mind, she lifted onto the balls of her feet and kissed his temple, releasing him from any hold, real or imagined, that she might have employed. "I was considering signing up for the Winter Warrior challenge. Do you think I stand a chance?" She rocked back onto her heels and smiled at him, lifting her chin toward the sign-up table. "Come, help me sign up." Without another word, she began walking backwards toward the tables, beckoning him with a curled finger and a complexion of pure mischief.

[Feyra]

Feyra continued to watch the girl with the cards. She vaguely recognised the man standing with her as one of the more skilled hunters of Wind Reach, though she did not know his name. Her attention was averted as another woman joined the pair. Still, the noise of the Inarta gathered within the walls of the Gallery was too loud for Feyra to hear the exchange. Her interest heightened, the Avora moved closer, remaining near to the walls. She noticed that the cards had strange, angular images on them, and as she drew closer still, she began to pick out little details. She was close enough now to be able to hear the words that passed between the trio. Fortune telling? Feyra’s brow raised. It wasn’t something that she’d seen in Wind Reach before, and she was intrigued to know where an Inarta would have picked the trade up. She pushed herself away from the wall and moved slowly over to stand beside, but not too near, the man. She caught a sense of excitement from the woman on his other side, and after a brief glance her way, she peered down at the girl, waiting for her to show what the ‘magical cards’ could do.