Winter Solstice Festival

[radiantwisdom]

Long ago, people lived in peace, bathed in the warmth of light. Everyone loved the light.
Then people began to fight over it. They wanted to keep it for themselves. And darkness was born in their hearts.
The darkness spread, swallowing the light and many people's hearts. It covered everything, and the world disappeared.
But small fragments of light survived... in the hearts of children.
With these fragments of light, children rebuilt the lost world.

The true light sleeps deep within the darkness. That's why the worlds are still scattered, divided from each other.
But someday, a door to the innermost darkness will open, and the true light return.

So listen, child.
Even in the deepest darkness, there will always be a light to guide you.
Believe in the light, and the darkness will never defeat you.
Your heart will shine with its power and push the darkness away.

Then....

On the Winter Solstice, the day of shortest light and greatest darkness, the Kingdom of Radiant Garden celebrates the hope which seeds from little lights within the hearts of its children. The ancient legends are told again among families, and each child is given a floating lantern made of fragile paper, which they are to steward carefully till sunset, when the lamps are lit.

Once the sky is dark, children with their families parade to the outer ring of the city, where they hold their lanterns aloft and send them skyward, often with a silent wish. It is said that these purest of hearts hold the greatest power of all. Once the lanterns have flown too high to be seen, the night sky explodes with a dazzling display of magnificent fireworks.
 

After the ceremony, there is a great feast held at the castle, which opens its doors to everyone. The food is warming, with music and laughter shared among all to chase the darkness away and keep spirits lively and bright. Solidarity, hope and good cheer are the virtues of the evening, and the young are treasured as precious sources of light for tonight and the continuing tomorrow.

Although many try to stay up through the whole night to greet the sunrise, Children traditionally are permitted to curl up exhausted from the festivities in their parents' beds.

 

...and Now.

A just few days before the solstice, Tron has alerted the users of some recovered records in the database. Pictures and personal journals of past midwinter festivals reawaken long-forgotten memories of the old traditions, and The Hollow Bastion Radiant Garden Restoration Committee has unanimously decided to reinstate the holiday this year.

Although the Kingdom is still under construction and not as populated, everyone is excited to make the most of reviving an old custom... even Ansem's former apprentices, who are sweeping away shadows and dust in the castle to prepare for a festive reception.

Luckily, there's just enough time to get the word out to the keybearers and friends in other worlds, as well as extend a very special invitation to the princesses of heart.. But will the looming threat of Xehanort's return and an invitation intercepted by one of Maleficent's minions turn the festival into a disaster?
 

 

Comments

[connives]

[Well. Someone turned up to enjoy the profuse festivities, but he hasn't really ventured out of the shadows - or away from the banquet table - yet. And perhaps he won't, Zexion thinks; the refreshments are a delightful distraction.

It's been a long time since he's been to one of these parties. It's a pleasure simply to observe.

Nibbling at a canape, Zexion can be found slipping through the shadows like they're his fond friends - which, well, they are. And perhaps leveling his one-eyed even gaze at another partygoer thoughtfully. He's harmless, really. He's just... keeping tabs on things.]

So very Then

[radiantwisdom]

There is nothing Ansem the Wise loves so much as seeing happy, smiling faces on his people.

So the sagely king is in high spirits, and even spends the full day away from his computers and projects, walking about town and taking the extra time to dote on his youngest apprentice. It is very easy sometimes, to neglect to treat Ienzo like a child...and for the most part he suspects the boy prefers it that way.

But solstice festival is above all a time to recognize the light within children, so Ansem may be a little paternally overbearing, with a sack of sweets left along with the lantern at the breakfast table, and additional gifts arranged as a surprise for later in the day.

Xehanort too... his newest apprentice might be a grown man, but it is his first festival, and so giving him a good impression of the festivities is important. Ansem suspects he might have to shoo him away from his personal work, though, as well as drag Even away from whatever experiment he might have running in the labs.

Toward the rest of his subjects, he is mirthful- ready with a pat of the shoulder and a personal well-wishes. Out of doors, Ansem's wearing a new cheerful scarf that twinkles with lights knit right in- and probably quite overwhelming with technical explanations, if anyone should ask how it works.

[primus_inter_pares]

Truer thoughts were never had, as indeed Xehanort is hunched over his desk, working on something, writing carefully in that looping, elegant style that comes to his hand so naturally. There's a cup of tea next to him that has long cooled, only barely touched. It's hard to tell how long he's been at it, but then again he is rarely aware of the passage of time, and even of the eventual soreness that will settle onto him.

He does not seem aware of Ansem's presence, as he gives no outward sign, continuing to work.

[radiantwisdom]

So engrossed in his studies, and well-disiplined! Or perhaps Xehanort simply didn't know any better, that this day was not for scholastic pursuits. They've spoken of the festival with much anticipation over breakfast, and even though Xehanort may not know what to expect of the festival, surely he's seen the others, cheerfully shucking their usual routines?


"Come now, Xehanort, a holiday is no time for solitary study." Ansem smiles, and there's a hand at his shoulder before Xehanort has a chance to acknowledge his Master's presence, and a laugh that is full of fond amusement, to have to coax two of his apprentices away from their leisurely studies. At least one of them has made it out from under his covers... Ienzo had been found tented up in his room, books propped on the pillows, very resistant to taking up his lantern and being social with the town's children at all.

"Why don't we close up the books, hm? ....while there's precious few hours of daylight?" He adds, a gentle reminder of their cause for celebration. It is wonderful to have such dedicated students, but he wishes they'd be a little more receptive to a break. Even is readily delighting himself in holiday, at least. And Braig may be seeing how many small children's lanterns he can snipe holes through from a distance, which might soon require more disciplinary action than Ansem likes giving to grown men.

[primus_inter_pares]

He'd heard mention of the holiday at meals, it was true, but he hadn't really considered it as part of his day. It was for the very young, after all... he was far from that age category now. There was much to do still, and so he had elected to do that instead.

So engrossed in his studies that he jumped when Ansem's hand reached his shoulder and voice reached his ears. His hands clamp against the desk and it takes a moment for him to get his bearings amidst the booming laughter. Flustered, he manages to turn to face his master, face ruddy with embarrassment.

"Ah... Master. I was just finishing up some work... I didn't realize my presence would be expected."

[radiantwisdom]

"Children take up the lamps, yes, but everyone takes some part in it, by the by." Ansem explains kindly. "The others have been given the day off from their duties, so that they can spend some time with family. And you, too, should take a well deserved break from your work. These is always tomorrow, after all, and the day after. This day only comes once a year."

Amused as he is to find Xehanort bowed diligent over his books, perhaps he should have given him a better idea of what was happening sooner, and some direction for how he might take part. No one ought to be left out simply because they were unaccustomed to Radiant Garden's folkways, after all.

But perhaps he has a two-way solution for that, and for another little trouble on his mind.

"Actually," He clears his throat, as he does with sudden articles of importance, or formal propositions. "I was wondering if you might want to escort Ienzo this year."

[Then]

[defrostedpride]

[Even doesn't care much for holidays, but this one has managed, somehow, to make a special place in his heart. Perhaps it's the winter chill, which perversely renders him less crabbed. Perhaps it's the opportunity to throw snow at people without feeling childish.

Either way, he's laid claim to a swatch of the gardens, where slowly a massive ice sculpture is taking shape under his watchful eye. He's also making smaller sculptures upon request, and seems almost approachable for once.]

[Then]

[radiantschemer]

Ienzo has bundled himself up in enough layers to make him seem a bit pudgy, and really the only reason he's found himself outside and in Even's company is because Ansem's undivided attention had gotten a little bit overbearing.

He's sitting on a carved stone bench with his knees curled up against his chest, nibbling at some kind of sweet bun with hot spiced apple filling inside, wrapped up in his hands.

His lantern sits beside him, only half-heartedly tended to, because he doesn't really anticipate anything popping up out of the shadows to puncture it's paper-thin sides. That part of the story is really only invented to teach children how to be hypervigilant, he suspects. And Ienzo is already fairly good at that.

Even's work with the ice is wonderfully interesting to watch, though. Often, because he's such a fussbudget and concerned with taking down accurate data, no one really notices the areas where Even's creativity might shine.

But here in all the frozen fractal shapes and shiny-surfaced geometry, when the wane daylight strikes the glassy surface of the ice just so? Spectacular. Ienzo smiles, but tries to hide his wonder and approval behind the curtain of his bangs, lest Even get a little too swollen in the head about it.

[defrostedpride]

Even doesn't notice Ienzo at first; he's thoroughly absorbed in his work, and besides, it isn't his turn to mind the child. At least, he doesn't think it is, when he finally notices that he has familiar company. But he wouldn't put it past whoever's job it is to drop him off without Even's noticing and run off to enjoy aspects of the festival not appropriate for children (or just not interesting to Ienzo).

"Enjoying yourself?" he asks, looking over with half an eye as he shores up the foundation with the rest of his attention.

[radiantschemer]

Ienzo chews at his bun with a soft noise of assent, meticulous about keeping the sticky filling off his fingers and sleeves. No one really deposited him here... Ansem had looked away for a moment, jovially greeting some children in the street by the town bakery, and the boy had nipped pastry right off the cooling tray in the window and slipped away before his preoccupied guardian had given him much notice.

Master Ansem was easily distracted for a man called wise, and easier to give the slip than Even, who had the pealing, piercing kind of voice that would often stop him before he'd wandered off too far.

He looks the ice sculpture up and down with critical curiosity, wondering how difficult that sort of magic was, or if it were simple as wishing it into existence. If he really did have free reign over what to make of his holidays, Ienzo would have gone down to Merlin's house for some practical lessons with his own magic, but staying close to Even would get him in less trouble....tempting as it was to spend the morning transfigured into a squirrel. He'd been told there would be no studies today, they were all to take a well-deserved break.

"How do you do it?" He finally dares asking, well aware that he might get a very technical answer, and not minding that too much. It was better than feeling smothered in his youth, or having his cheeks pinched and gushed at by the strangers in town.

[defrostedpride]

A technical answer he is likely to have. Even enjoys explaining what he's doing, especially if it makes him sound brilliant.

"It's a variation on the ice magic used in combat," he begins his lecture, "only, obviously, much refined. Blizzard spells and similar are created to combine magical force, gesture, and intent in a specific, formulaic manner - much preferable in most combat situations, where time to think is at a premium." At least, so he's been told. He learned basic combat magic, but when would he ever have the need to use it? "However, there is no reason inherent to the theory why the ice should take that shape and that only; it's simply that the spell as it is taught produces that precise result. With more advanced study - you won't have started the theory necessary to back this yet - it is possible to customize spells and retain a great deal more fine control over the manifestation."

[primus_inter_pares]

[Seeing Even outside of his usual sphere, outside of the lab and not engaging in science... is odd, to say the least. He doesn't want to make his presence know, for fear that the academic will suddenly revert from this rare expression of creativity. Instead he's content to watch silently, peering out from a corner so as not to disturb unduly.]

[defrostedpride]

[A few carefully-placed curtain walls later, Even finally notices his watcher.] Oh. Xehanort?

[He feels obscurely embarrassed under the steady regard. It isn't scientific, after all, in the strict sense.]

[primus_inter_pares]

[Noticed, he steps forward, inclining his head politely.]

It's quite pleasing to the eye. The vectors must be difficult to plot. Very masterful, Even.

[limitbreakpilot]

[Without anything that requires his more technical expertise, Cid has somewhat grudgingly left behind his grand plans and half-built machines. Nor is he any more fond of the cold than ever, and he's well and truly bundled up by the time he makes it over to where Even is.

He doesn't speak up immediately though. Just makes a soft noise that could almost be a sign that the construction impresses him, if one manages to read it right.]

[Now] Continuing Heartless!Timeline

[justasonginmyhead]

((OOC: This is specifically for Puli's Ienzo, but if you want to play around with this dork for some reason instead, that's cool. There's some pretty serious backstory leading up to this, but I tried to set things up so someone who hasn't seen any of it could still interact?))

It's hard to say if anyone has been working harder on getting things ready for the festival than Gustave has been. The only thing preventing him from working harder is neither sleep nor any form of laziness, but that he has to stay entirely corporeal where there's even a chance anyone will see him. Ienzo, of course, knows what it is that he really is (as much as anyone does, anyway-- he's still fairly sure he doesn't fit anymore, into the molds of what they know and don't know about how this whole process works) and Aeleus had to be told. But they're the only two, for now.

He doesn't like deceiving the people who have become his friends, but everyone agrees it's better if Even doesn't know what he is, at the very least.

Even so, though it ought to be impossible, his excitement to see the winter festival only grows with every passing day, until he doesn't even bother pretending to sleep anymore, unless Ienzo makes him.

[Now] Also this PSL comes with potential for explicit adult stuff, you've been warned ; )

[illicitresearch]

As Radiant Garden rebuilds, they've been relatively welcome to any newcomers. Which is very fortunate for Ienzo's 'friend', found again on another world. There were a few questions when he was brought back here, but thankfully Ienzo was a skilled truth-bender before an outright liar.

And it's very much for the best that no one really knows he's something more like Zexion's once-pet and plaything. Complications better left unsaid. Gustave is practical help otherwise, after all. A skilled mechanist, which is wonderful for construction, and apparently quite gifted with music. Ienzo keeps him preoccupied with plenty of other odd jobs which aren't quite menial, but somewhat dirtier than the youngest apprentice would prefer his own hands getting.

The longer nights will appeal to the very nature of him. Ienzo certainly knows this. But his happiness over the upcoming festival is amusing to the castle's self-appointed steward, and as sunset nears, Ienzo can't help but smirk at Gustave's obvious delight.

Others might be surprised to catch him smiling at a festival he never enjoyed much as a child; they may think his moods and ups and downs, his wrestling with a new set of emotions, are finally making a turnaround.

It certainly seems genuine though, his happiness, doesn't it? Subdued, but then isn't he usually?

"I like it better this way," He remarks, fussily smoothing out a slight crinkle in the shade of his delicate lamp. Everyone is carrying one this year. "When we're not singling the children out."

The truth is there are no younger children (perhaps Yuffie and the keybearers), and Radiant Garden needs the hope of every heart to progress.

[justasonginmyhead]

He wouldn't protest the designations, certainly, if Ienzo ever voiced them; he might even preen at them a little, in fact, the casual possession and implied interest in those words something to keep him warm, rather than insult him. But he's never once, not even for a moment, considered himself such. He would be surprised to hear them, applied to him, even as he seeks Ienzo's approval for just about everything and would gladly follow whatever orders he had to give.

Then again, dogs aren't exactly embarrassed to be dogs either, are they? It may just be that he cannot fully comprehend why it ought to matter. It simply is, and has been, since he opened lamplight eyes and struggled to hang on to the remains of an old life that, even now, still feels more like a dream than a series of events that actually happened to him.

Gustave's fingers just crinkle the one he's holding a little more, while Ienzo smooths his. One of the members of the Restoration Committee had brought him his and his eyes have kept being drawn back to it, over the course of the day. Not much about Gustave is ever really very childish, but he stewards over his lantern with all the studiousness of someone who has never done it before. He treats it like it's made of gold, or possibly diamonds, and Ienzo might have thought that this was because he was so excited about the festival, but now, just a few minutes before they are to release them, truth reveals itself.

"Is it alright?" he asks, suddenly, turning slightly to look at Ienzo, worried, "Is it alright for me to have one? I thought it would be strange for me not to, but..."

[illicitresearch]

"Yes." He whispers- standing on tiptoe to try and catch a glimpse of Scrooge's three nephews, who are walking among the short processional line, dispensing the flame among those who can't produce it for themselves magically. Lea, further down, has set fire to his fourth with zeal. Ienzo clucks his tongue and softly rolls his eyes before leaning in closer to Gustave's shoulder.

"It would be stranger if you didn't." Ienzo doesn't put much stock in any particular superstitious sanctity in the custom itself. Otherwise, Lea for one might be screwed and good riddance. Gustave's been taking particular care with his, and perhaps it shouldn't be so surprising that he's concern is for being a something of a wolf in sheep's clothing, here.

No more than any of those who had gone ten years without hearts, really. Or Riku- Ienzo's eyes skim the crowd too casually, for a flash of silver.

"Don't worry." He glances down at the cobblestones, minding the length of his own shadow, then Gustave's, with a tiny nod of reassurance. His illusions discreetly smooth and even and trim, fix the way lamp light doesn't seem to warm Gustave's face quite right. "I'll monitor you, so that no one notices anything unusual."

[Now] Did Someone Say A Party?

[bitchwithaw]

Well, well, well. Look what we have here.

It had been agreed that a dragon was a little too... flashy for something like this. They needed a bit of reconnaissance work done here, and Maleficent wasn't too good at keeping her cool at parties she hadn't been invited to, so Ursula seemed a relatively sane choice, as far as such things went. Besides, she was just dying to go to a party. It had been so long.

She's dressed a bit formally for the occasion, her dress black and entirely too sparkly, her jewelry ostentatious in the extreme, but it's always better to be overdressed than under, right? She carries a flute of champagne and can be found chatting to anyone who will chat back and a few people who won't.

[Then]

[atlightsshore]

[ Wrapped up warmly in a lilac coat with fluffy white wool trim, a little redhaired girl gasps at all the decorations in the streets as a kindly old woman gently calls for her attention as she leads her along at a sedate pace towards the Castle gates. An unlit lantern is carried in her hands, and bright blue eyes take in everything in wonder.

It is her first Winter Solstice in Radiant Garden and Kairi is very excited.

Right up until she bumps into something -- or someone! Half-tripping on the slippery cobbles with a squeak, she instinctively grabs with one hand for something to help her stay upright..! ]

help I'm crying HELP

[primus_inter_pares]

[If it's not one thing, it's another. Torn from his studies, and paraded around to the town... he almost expects one of the lanterns to get thrust at him, but thankfully he's too old for such a thing. He takes it in stride as best as he can... after all, it is the duty of one in a position such as his. Keeping Ansem happy is also important...

He's not paying attention as he wanders through the square until he feels the impact against his leg. He turns quickly in time to see the young girl slipping, and reaches out a hand to try to catch her before she hits the ground.]

[atlightsshore]

[ The tiny mitten-covered hand seizes the one offered her, sturdy where she is not, and after a moment of near collapse, she manages to regain her balance in that manner only small children and felines can do.

She puffs breathlessly in surprise to not find herself on the floor, before looking up at the tanned young man who 'rescued' her. She doesn't recognise him - which isn't all that odd, honestly, given King Ansem's apprentices didn't often mix with the towns folk - but Kairi finds herself not quite gaping for a moment.

Then. ]

Um.

Thank you, sir..?

[primus_inter_pares]

[He is not accustomed to dealing with children, and perhaps his grip is a bit tight, but at least she seems no worse for the wear. Mission accomplished. He looks down at her, nodding slightly at her acknowledgement.]

You're welcome. It would be best to be careful... these streets are busy, after all.

[limitbreakpilot]

[Cid has never much liked the cold. It makes it damnably hard to get any fine tuning of mechanisms done, if he has to put up with gloves in order to keep his fingers from freezing all the way down to the point where they're useless for anything at all.

Of course, most people would be inclined to comment that this festival is one that doesn't require working on fiddly little technological things, but that has never stopped Cid before and most certainly isn't going to do so now.

Besides, he needs something to grump about. It doesn't quite feel right, otherwise.]