hugtopia | Like thunder screaming out for a flash of lightning

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Like thunder screaming out for a flash of lightning

[Cor's not great at this whole party thing, especially as this time it's not just a family gathering but intended for the friends they'd made here as well. The video starts with Cor sitting in a cushy white and grey striped armchair, a stone fireplace beside him glowing warmly. It's a classy set up and far above the townhouses they've been in.]

It's New Years, celebrations are in order. His Majesty, Ignis, and I have obtained a larger space and we'd like to offer our home for the festivities. Feel free to stop in, have some snacks, and await midnight with us.

[Locked from Regis]
[He looks a little paranoid at first, double, then triple checking that he's done this right.]

It's also his Majesty's birthday. He's always eager to sweep it under the New Years celebrations but he has no reason to shy away from any such celebrations here. Don't let him.

[Action - Party Start~]
[The new house is really very nice. It's nothing compared to the Citadel but it is very nice. Clean and homey with the accents of warm wood that, if Cor didn't know better, he'd have thought was reclaimed.

There's a fire in the hearth, hor d'ouerve trays laid out on the kitchen counters. The replicator is of course available to anyone who wants something specific, though you might be surprised to find she responds to voice commands and is distressingly cheerful to talk to. The house is open for examination! Go on, explore folks, mingle away.]

[Action - Midnight]
[As chill as the night is Cor makes a point of slipping through the crowd throughout the evening. There's a number of Lucis Caelums and other magic users as well. So when the time comes near he does his best to usher everyone into the backyard, or at least onto the back porch.

He's certainly not the one to lead the countdown, no someone more energetic can do that, but at the final count a series of spells get fired into the night sky. They may not be traditional fireworks but a few Flares, Thundaras, and spells he has no names for will work well enough, don't you think?]

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[ Her tug draws his gaze. Of all the questions she could have asked, this one leaves him searching her eyes.

She shouldn't love. She shouldn't feel. She shouldn't ask for a dance, just as he shouldn't overstep the boundaries of fate, because their existences are nothing next to the worlds. This world is dying. They should have stayed in the townhouse and spent the entirety of the night offering contact instead of mingling with partygoers.

But they're here. People have come and gone for conversation. It's past midnight, and Somnus finds himself rather weary. His eyes close. His thoughts are hazy. They're already here, so he has no reason to refuse. After the dance, they'll retire to the townhouse and put the first hour of the year behind them.

Opening his eyes, Somnus rounds on Pyra like he did the evening prior. Only, this time, he extends his other hand with the palm upturned for her to accept. ]

[ When he closes his eyes her hand is in his, awaiting his answer. When he opens his eyes, her hand is still in his, and he'll find her other raising to clasp over his palm.

She thought he would refuse. Had he, she would have been content to simply stand and watch the false stars as they burst, but that he accepts gains another smile from her. She steps forward, and her warmth will be known to him through their proximity. It is not cold this night, and it will never be cold with her present. She hopes, however, that even if she were not here, he would feel all the warmth his family brings. He can have this warmth. He should have it. It is his.

It is a slow start. Her gaze lowers from his, humble, as she guides one of his hands to her waist while the other goes to his shoulder, fingers carefully slipping below the drape of stars. Then she begins with him, taking one step back and hoping he knows to follow. There is no music, but-- she had not learned this particular dance with music, anyway.

Seeing as there are many of his family here, it seems more than appropriate to her to complete their family's dance. She will guide him through the motions with gentle shifts and presses, should he need help; she is not at all perfect in her own steps either, yet any mistake on his or her part will be greeted with a smile, catching his eyes with mirth and patience, a soft laugh, and then correcting the step before moving forward.

She takes these motions more slowly, more mindfully, more closely to him than when she lasted traced them. Their tempo is far more languid than the bright, fast flares of fireworks, and when they make it to the first circle about each other, palm against his, her gaze holds his throughout with kindness and appreciation as the magic of the fireworks dances in her eyes. She needn't say it again, that she is glad he is here. ]

[ Moving from open to closed position, she doesn't tell him of the dance she has in mind. She takes the first step, and he follows. A few more steps and corrections later, he understands. This is a dance he's witnessed no small amount of times in the past century and a half.

Observing is, however, different from doing. The position they've assumed is already unnatural for him. It's only toward the end of the circle that he meets her steps, albeit with a measure of stiffness as he recalls and applies them at once. Even when their feet collide gently now and then, he returns Pyra's gaze throughout the dance.

Once the first circle completes, he pauses, then drops one hand and raises the other for another rotation. She's warm under his touch, and her smile softens the various lights cast on her face by the fireworks. Like this, it's impossible to miss the gentle gleam in her eyes. He walks her in the second circle with less hesitation than the first. After this will be the spins, then the lift and dip. ]

[ Their portrayal of the dance is a work in progress, and if their steps are meant to paint an invisible crest of Lucis into the ground, they are not honoring it with perfection. She finds his own movements stiff, militaristic... restrained, perhaps, while hers are following only the memory of having done this once before. Yet with neither music nor verbal instruction, they proceed not at all unpleasantly or completely graceless. She recalls hearing, once, that music follows the underlying tempo of heartbeats. With no actual heart of her own, they must be following what is in his.

With that thought, she brings the following steps closer to what she imagines he might prefer. Less grandiose, more subtle, nothing unnecessary in terms of flourish, but no less meaningful. Closeness, generosity, refined as it can be, the turn is made with her smile to greet his own expression. She notes that his is not soft, not harsh, but focused in return. Her hand lightly brushes along his arm in a way she hopes is reassuring, that...

...That these movements need not demand all of his attention. He can relax, he can enjoy this, she wishes him to, and she will attempt to accomodate how he moves. He's doing well; wonderfully, in fact-- because this... does feel nice. At least to her, with his presence, with his touch, with the soft flicker of the fireworks that seem so much more distant behind him than before, catching in his eyes. Blinding as ever, as always.

She spins outward, fingers dusting just as his fingertips for length of the extension, then it's back to him to repeat the motion for the second, third, and last time, gracefully returning close to him, his hand upon her waist, hers back upon his chest, then his shoulder. Her eyes lift from his neck to his chin, and then to his meet his gaze. Pyra smiles at him; he knows what comes next, the finale, yes? ]

[ The subtle changes in her movement and the hand brushing along his arm draw Somnus out of the dance for a brief moment. Their maneuvers from them on become streamlined, doing away with flamboyancy in favor of what motions come more naturally to them—to him, who's only known the dance of combat. He tests the shift in the second spin, gains momentum in the third, and tenses in the fourth for what's to come.

Warmth on his chest and shoulder serve as his cue. Their eyes barely lock before he lowers his hands to lift her. The sensation of spinning is far from alien to him, but this is no battlefield. He tempers his pivot, supporting her weight with steady hands, and the star-patterned fabric draped over Pyra's body shimmers against the lights.

His raised foot falls to the ground, and Somnus segues into a somewhat superficial dip. With his hand on the small of her back, he watches her for her reaction. ]

[ She smiles with the lift, hands upon either of his shoulders as they turn, and then her feet find purchase upon ground as he bring her back to the ground in a modest lean. There they remain, his hand pressed to the small of her back in an easy support, her arms over his shoulders as the silent ballad finishes.

Her hand drifts from his shoulder to his neck... to his jaw, to his cheek. Hovered over her, she cannot see the lights of the fireworks in his eyes any longer, but she sees all else that he is in this moment, illuminated by the gentle glow of her crystal between them, dousing his paler skin a teal light, accenting the shadows of his cheekbones, brightening the dark blue of his eyes. He appears just a touch more thoughtful, as if coming back from the focus of the dance to the present.

(For all of one moment, she worries if she had chosen this dance wrong, that it was too much to honor something of his world for they did not complete all of the steps, they had not completed the "wall". Yet he doesn't appear too bothered....} He hadn't wanted to come to this party, yet now he's here, he's completed this dance, and he's holding her. If he's troubled still at all, she hopes that this dance had brought his attention to something of an escape, something warm beneath the night. ]

[ And so she smiles for him, softly at that, her head canting gently to one side. She wants to say more-- let this year be for you and your family or something similar, something good, something reassuring. But she doesn't know what might offend, what might bring his thoughts back to a subject he'd rather not touch. She wonders if it is exasperating, if he's heard it all before with a subject brought up over and over again...

It's not the past, it's not the future; what works is the present. He's reminded her of this before. And, presently, he is here, she is here, and there is night, there is light, and there is the softness of the magic in the background. She says the second thing that comes to her mind. ]

Your eyes... They are beautiful, Somnus.

[ Still, she hopes he can be happy here with his family. She hopes this with all of a nonexistent heart. ]

[ At that, his eyes narrow—not in offense, but in passing thought (millennia ago, he was remarked to have fine features, chief among them his eyes)—and he straightens, sliding his hand up her back to steady her. The features she possesses would turn many a head in Eos. His eyes are nothing next to the bright scarlet of hers and her hair, to say nothing of the otherworldly glow about her.

Magical lights continue to fire off in the sky above them, and it's as though her eyes are a pair of dancing flames. He finally looks away, toward the house. Of the likely culprits, there's the one whose name comes to mind. ]

Noctis was your teacher.

[ She catches his eyes narrowing, and Pyra cannot even begin to decipher what he's thinking, but she does hope that he's not caught up in a memory he would rather not have. His hand slides up her back as their postures straighten, and she steadies herself by bringing her hand back to his shoulder.

Like his brother, it seems he does not accept compliments either, although she wonders if it is a matter of not believing in them, from whom these words come, or that he is undeserving of praise. All options are troubling. As he turns his head, she has half a mind to be stubborn and compliment the dignified strength of his profile. Instead she merely nods at his words, letting him have this change of topic. ]

Your kingdom's crest... The footsteps trace its sigil.

[ Also apparently it's a royalty dance that is meant for weddings, but Noctis didn't seem to mind teaching her, so. ] Thank you, for sharing it with me.

[ The crackles of magic continues. They could leave now before it ends for Somnus, just in case saying goodbyes might prove too uncomfortable for him-- but manners. (What a dilemma!) She'll leave that decision up to him. ]

[ A sigil that will soon cease to apply, he thinks. He faces her to meet her eyes for a perceptible moment, and this is his silent acknowledgment of her gratitude before he turns back toward the house. In truth, it would be more fitting to say that she shared the dance with him.

That aside, he's been up long enough. Between this and the night's encounters, he's ready to go. ]

I would sleep. Let us retire if you have no more business here.

[ She shakes her head. Nope, no other business here. He had been her ticket to partake of this family's activities. When he leaves, she will too. ] Mm.

[ Her hand falls from his shoulder; then, straightening out the stars of the draping about her shoulders, she links her arm with his and follows his lead to leave the household in whatever discrete manner he might choose. Or not-so-discrete, if he chooses to just warp out of there. However they manage, they still must walk a bit in the dark, past midnight. To think that they did something similar just a week or so ago, when they had headed to Rawna's temple together and then returned....

It's dark, past midnight, and cold. They are away from the homey atmosphere of his family and the warm trill of the fireworks. ] ...Your family is... very loving.

[ She turns her head, looking at him as they walk. ] I hope you enjoyed yourself a little bit.

[ He means to leave, not escape. Somnus takes them through the back and front doors, not under the obligation of saying a word of farewell in the least. Soon he and Pyra are out on the street, heading for the townhouse with their arms linked. After the combined heat of homey warmth and far too many bodies in one place, the calm chill of night is a welcome change.

Loving, indeed. It isn't that he dislikes his family, but that his is a contentious presence. At another time in the future, he would've liked to engage them in a place of rest. Now he wonders if that future will even come to pass.

He looks forward as they walk. An important discussion was had; this much, he can concede. ]

It was a fruitful night.

[ The air of the new year is cooler, but the false sky above is clear. The stars light their path as much as the street lamps. She needs only hold his arm as they walk to have him stay warm. ]

Noctis.... was glad that you came. [ She speaks softly, as if any louder might injure the pure stillness of the night.

For how long has she been asking others what it means to have a family? A home? With all of their definitions given to her, she finds that none of them apply to her. But Somnus— does. He does have a family, a home, and it continues to grow with others, with friends and friends of friends, and Luna. ] And I’m sure others were, too.

[ He recalls his private conversation with Regis. Father and son are among those who've showcased desire for harmony the most, and it's unfortunate that any of them has to be caught up in the ancient falling out between him and his brother. They might have been glad that he was there, but knowing that he won't lift a finger to change their fates . . .

It angers his brother, he knows. On this, he wonders if they'll ever truly agree.

The warmth that radiates from Pyra prevents his body from going numb with the cold, drawing his attention to the extra layer of fabric draped over his tunic. The reason he was there at all is because of that persistent person. ]

I will return what is Era's.

[ He shifts the conversation away from him, and she lets him. That is reason they were there at all. He agreed to go because of Era, while having refused Pyra's offer.

Perhaps she shouldn't have gone. ]

At dawn this morning? Or will you be allow yourself some extra rest in this new year?

[ Is it extra rest if he's retiring to bed later than usual? Either way, he won't be returning the curtains and safety pins at dawn. He might rise with the sun, but the same can't be said of everyone else. He doesn't know when Era wakes for the day, so it would be better to try late in the morning or the evening. ]

She and her partner are still partaking in the festivities. I will visit them later.

[ And though he won't say it, perhaps he'll need that extra rest. Between the correspondence with his brother and the party, Aellyn's new year has begun on a wearying note. But if he focuses on offering contact with Pyra at his side, giving himself over to the oblivion of sleep should be a simpler task than if he were left to lie with his thoughts alone. ]

What of you?

I... am grateful, for allowing me to come with you.

[ As if that hadn't been established already, she reinforces it as she keeps her arm linked with his. It had been especially nice to see his family and their friends of friends, gathered so closely and intimately to welcome the new year. How wonderful it is, that he has them. ]

And to welcome the new year. [ Even if she had experienced the exact moment alone.

They continue to walk for the time being, taking the same back to return to their townhouse. She thinks again of his family, of his circumstance, and what it must mean for him to have lingered for millennia, working and fighting for the future despite what guilt he might feel, knowing what that future might mean for those he loves. (Whatever it may be.) She wonders if it is tiring; no, it must be tiring, it must wear his soul. Five hundred years of her own solitude is nothing compared to his thousands of years. Yet he still strives towards that future. For a man who rises at dawn daily, he hides it well.

He is inspiring as well. Yet she wonders if... he would allow himself a small indulgence for the few year. ]

For... this first day of what was once our future, but now our present... would you like to rest?

[ He didn't allow anything. Since she had made the first offer, it was only fair that she go with them. He imposed on Era for it, but Pyra had asked first (and she seldom asks these days). This sentiment goes unsaid as they backtrack to the townhouse.

It's been a long, eventful night. A fruitful night. He can't say if things will get better, but they'll be changing from hereon out. The new year—how many more of those will they bear witness to here? He can hardly spare any energy for the thought right now. As the townhouse comes into view, he breathes his answer. ]

Perhaps.

[ Fruitful is all she has to go by, and as she patiently awaits for his response expecting no less a decline, she wonders if anything will change for their futures...

But he surprises her with a solitary perhaps instead. ]

[ Perhaps is a start, isn't it? That at least for this day, the start of the new year, he will offer one temporary bit of change: that instead of rising at dawn, he will rest.

Still, a perhaps isn't a confirmation, and neither does he give away that this is what he wants. With a half-step forward, she circles around to his front and takes his other hand, leading him towards the townhouse with a brighter smile, her voice airy. ] ...Then... sleep as much as you want! Or as little as you want.

[ Or for however long he wishes to. She'll be there by his side, to offer touch to the gods regardless. A melodic giggle escapes her, as if delighted by his bare crumbs of his answer. On the last road down to their townhouse, happy to hear this from him, it's enough to cause her to pull him into one slow informal turn in their route, as if recalling their previous dance, then it's back to walking forward, hand in hand. ] I'll be here.

[ Or won't be there, whatever he wants. ]

[ Where she pulls him, he goes. Compared to the evening before when he refused her offer to go to the party, her response to his half-hearted answer is like night and day. His vacuous gaze lingers on her—"I'll be here"—before he directs it forward at the townhouse. She'll be there, celebrating his decision (whatever it might be).

They enter the house in silence. Releasing his hold on Pyra's hand, Somnus reaches up to undo the safety pin around his shoulder. He manages on his second try, clasps the pin in his palm, and starts on the next. Then he pulls the curtain off, hangs his cape by the door, and walks over to the coffee table, where he sets the safety pins down and drapes the curtain over the back of the sofa. He turns toward Pyra.

If she's yet to divest herself of the curtain, he'll extend a hand as an offer to help. But if she's already followed suit, he'll still extend the same hand to take her back to their shared bed. ]

[ Once inside, he parts from her to undo the pins fastening the starry, sheer curtain. She carefully undoes one side of the pins; noticing his offer to help, she steps over to Somnus for him to assist with the other. The drape slips from her shoulders to pools into his hands once freed, still warmed by her body heat. When he lays that over his own upon the couch, she turns to slip her hand into his.

To his room they go, and... nothing more to see here y'all BYEEE. ]

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Like thunder screaming out for a flash of lightning

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