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unfinishedlibrary2026-04-24 07:14 pm
libraryassistants) wrote in unfinishedlibrary2026-04-24 07:14 pm
maybe a hero is just what we call someone - AFTER WE BREAK, ACT 1
Who: The attendees of the Grand Festival and residents of Rivers' End
What: The Grand Festival has begun!
When: The beginning of spring, for a week long festival (OOC: April 24-Mary 7)
Where: Rivers' End, all around!
Content warnings: Mentions of Godly Death and aftermath of that; put your CWs in the headers!
The streets of Rivers’ End, or at least the main street at the center of town, is alive and bustling as the Grand Festival begins. It's a mostly human city, stone walls thick enough to blunt any siege, timber-framed houses roofed with sturdy slate, narrow cobbled streets and a central market square large enough to hold half the population. The main thoroughfare is broad and open and laden with bright colored banners, tents and stalls to welcome any and all who wish to attend (and spend coin) at the Grand Festival. The air is still crisp in the mornings but warms by midday into the warm golden welcoming of spring.
Outside its massive gates, flung open for the festival, cherry and apple orchards on the surrounding farms and settlements have exploded into pale pink and white, and the city itself has been transformed by hands determined to pretend the war amongst the gods isn't happening. Every balcony, sill and lamppost drips with garlands of flowers and ribbons, some holding stores of fireworks waiting for nightfall. Music spills from every corner, street musicians playing tunes from hymns to one of the divines to rancorous ballads meant to lift spirits and forget the pall of more recent, terrible events. There's even a pair of wooden stages hosting troupes of dancers in flowing costumes. Disregard the way people occasionally flinch as pigeons and starlings thunder into the air, stirred by firecrackers and happy barely-controlled bedlam.
As the gates are opened for the beginning of the day's festivities, a variety of new people seem to be visiting the town for the festival- including the Readers. People are excited, eager to let go of their concerns for a little while, and don't bother to pay attention or care about the influx of tourists; during the Grand Festival people come from countless kingdoms around, strangers are a given.
Of course, given that the Festival is a time to worship the gods and have them all brought together, the temples and their people can be found all around. The Temple of the Artificer is the only one on the main pathway, beautiful sculpted stone and statues of various types (wood, marble, at least one well trimmed bush), with many of the crafting guild halls surrounding it. Their people are around the entrance, some demonstrating the majesty of their craft and the power their god gives them, a spectacle in its own right.
The Temple of the Veiled Lady is by the entrances but a block or so away from the main road, the main decoration being thin drapes acting like veils for the architecture. Since their temple is not on the main road, they have what is probably best described as a booth with a rotating cast of their clerics, paladins, and layfolk- almost always with a crowd of ghosts, all of whom seem to be dancing along to whatever music is playing on the stage. (They do mostly stick to ghosts now, though children periodically try to bid for the return of the dancing zombies.)
The Temple of the Advocate is located further into the poorer area of the city, as that is where their work is most needed; it has the air of a building that is well maintained but would rather be putting food on people’s table than gild their own hall, thank you very much. It is a busy and bustling place that likely has never seen a moment’s peace, even during the festival, priests speaking with those in need and clerics administering aid and paladins running around making sure people and supplies are where they’re needed. Despite this, they too have a booth of sorts, though it is far less about spectacle and more just another avenue to offer their aid. There’s always at least one lawyer-priest there to talk through issues, and at least one paladin keeping an eye out for the children and other more vulnerable parties at the festival.
The Armoured Hound’s Chosen do not have a temple to call their own, but they can be found amongst the crowd as well. Periodically a section will be set up as some sort of fighting ring, and one of the Chosen will enter their Holy Rage, smashing through any and all obstacles to cheers and excitement without harming anything or anyone else. Sometimes they just do ridiculous strongman type tricks as well, even though they’re about the same strength as any other Chosen.
And then… there’s the Thing With Feathers’ Chosen. Having been taken in by the Advocate’s temple, they can on occasion be found lurking around their booth, what few of them there are. A few opt not to wear their raiments and therefore can vanish easily into the crowd, but the ones that do are difficult to miss. Most people seem to treat them with a mix of fear, pity, and curiosity- an unhelpful combination that mostly ends in lingering, uncomfortable stares. These Chosen are not showing off the powers of their god. If anything, they seem to be trying the best they can to pretend they’re not there.
The various temples aren’t the only ones out in force, naturally. The rest of the street is lined with merchants of all stripes, food vendors, and small performances that continue outside the main stage. Most are legitimate; some are… less so. There’s a fortune teller who claims they can communicate with the dead (and a paladin of the Veiled Lady may or may not be keeping a close eye on them), a merchant who claims to have feathers of an extinct bird (one of the Thing’s Chosen looks like they’re trying really hard not to punch him in the face), and so forth. All in all, the atmosphere is lively, light, and filled with revelry. Time for everyone to enjoy themselves!
What: The Grand Festival has begun!
When: The beginning of spring, for a week long festival (OOC: April 24-Mary 7)
Where: Rivers' End, all around!
Content warnings: Mentions of Godly Death and aftermath of that; put your CWs in the headers!
The streets of Rivers’ End, or at least the main street at the center of town, is alive and bustling as the Grand Festival begins. It's a mostly human city, stone walls thick enough to blunt any siege, timber-framed houses roofed with sturdy slate, narrow cobbled streets and a central market square large enough to hold half the population. The main thoroughfare is broad and open and laden with bright colored banners, tents and stalls to welcome any and all who wish to attend (and spend coin) at the Grand Festival. The air is still crisp in the mornings but warms by midday into the warm golden welcoming of spring.
Outside its massive gates, flung open for the festival, cherry and apple orchards on the surrounding farms and settlements have exploded into pale pink and white, and the city itself has been transformed by hands determined to pretend the war amongst the gods isn't happening. Every balcony, sill and lamppost drips with garlands of flowers and ribbons, some holding stores of fireworks waiting for nightfall. Music spills from every corner, street musicians playing tunes from hymns to one of the divines to rancorous ballads meant to lift spirits and forget the pall of more recent, terrible events. There's even a pair of wooden stages hosting troupes of dancers in flowing costumes. Disregard the way people occasionally flinch as pigeons and starlings thunder into the air, stirred by firecrackers and happy barely-controlled bedlam.
As the gates are opened for the beginning of the day's festivities, a variety of new people seem to be visiting the town for the festival- including the Readers. People are excited, eager to let go of their concerns for a little while, and don't bother to pay attention or care about the influx of tourists; during the Grand Festival people come from countless kingdoms around, strangers are a given.
Of course, given that the Festival is a time to worship the gods and have them all brought together, the temples and their people can be found all around. The Temple of the Artificer is the only one on the main pathway, beautiful sculpted stone and statues of various types (wood, marble, at least one well trimmed bush), with many of the crafting guild halls surrounding it. Their people are around the entrance, some demonstrating the majesty of their craft and the power their god gives them, a spectacle in its own right.
The Temple of the Veiled Lady is by the entrances but a block or so away from the main road, the main decoration being thin drapes acting like veils for the architecture. Since their temple is not on the main road, they have what is probably best described as a booth with a rotating cast of their clerics, paladins, and layfolk- almost always with a crowd of ghosts, all of whom seem to be dancing along to whatever music is playing on the stage. (They do mostly stick to ghosts now, though children periodically try to bid for the return of the dancing zombies.)
The Temple of the Advocate is located further into the poorer area of the city, as that is where their work is most needed; it has the air of a building that is well maintained but would rather be putting food on people’s table than gild their own hall, thank you very much. It is a busy and bustling place that likely has never seen a moment’s peace, even during the festival, priests speaking with those in need and clerics administering aid and paladins running around making sure people and supplies are where they’re needed. Despite this, they too have a booth of sorts, though it is far less about spectacle and more just another avenue to offer their aid. There’s always at least one lawyer-priest there to talk through issues, and at least one paladin keeping an eye out for the children and other more vulnerable parties at the festival.
The Armoured Hound’s Chosen do not have a temple to call their own, but they can be found amongst the crowd as well. Periodically a section will be set up as some sort of fighting ring, and one of the Chosen will enter their Holy Rage, smashing through any and all obstacles to cheers and excitement without harming anything or anyone else. Sometimes they just do ridiculous strongman type tricks as well, even though they’re about the same strength as any other Chosen.
And then… there’s the Thing With Feathers’ Chosen. Having been taken in by the Advocate’s temple, they can on occasion be found lurking around their booth, what few of them there are. A few opt not to wear their raiments and therefore can vanish easily into the crowd, but the ones that do are difficult to miss. Most people seem to treat them with a mix of fear, pity, and curiosity- an unhelpful combination that mostly ends in lingering, uncomfortable stares. These Chosen are not showing off the powers of their god. If anything, they seem to be trying the best they can to pretend they’re not there.
The various temples aren’t the only ones out in force, naturally. The rest of the street is lined with merchants of all stripes, food vendors, and small performances that continue outside the main stage. Most are legitimate; some are… less so. There’s a fortune teller who claims they can communicate with the dead (and a paladin of the Veiled Lady may or may not be keeping a close eye on them), a merchant who claims to have feathers of an extinct bird (one of the Thing’s Chosen looks like they’re trying really hard not to punch him in the face), and so forth. All in all, the atmosphere is lively, light, and filled with revelry. Time for everyone to enjoy themselves!
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"...You really are new," he says after a moment. He's a little dumbstruck, honestly. Chara had warned him, and he hadn't not believed him, but he's not at all sure how to deal with this. He doesn't want to explain.
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Part of him wants to flee, but he's faced scarier things than socially messing up. ... Not much scarier, though.
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But at the same time-- he wants even less for his temple siblings to have to talk about it. What if he, or someone else, asks Kumiko? Luteus? Asuka? Lonan? That... hurts more. He doesn't want them to suffer. And they would, all in their own way.
Which isn't to say he won't. But he's pretty sure he deserves it.
"I served the Thing With Feathers," he says, gesturing to the symbol on his tabbard, "It died, almost a year ago now. It-- the part of its soul that was in us, its Chosen, got ripped out of us. We all lost our minds. Most of us... never woke back up."
He pauses, taking in a deep breath. "So... yeah. There is literally nothing that will make me have a good time, right now." Or possibly ever again.
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"... Would a hug help?" He asks, a little tentative.
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He's not quite proud enough to say no.
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"It'll be okay. No matter what happens... you have yourself. That's a starting point. What future do you want to have? - You don't have to tell me. But every step you take towards it... it's a worthwhile step, even if it's hard."
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“We can agree to disagree,” probably seals it, an echo of one of their last conversations before the story. He pulls back, with a shrug. “…Thanks. For trying. You sure you’re not one of the Thing’s?” It’s a weak joke, but he clarifies. “Hope is— was- one of its… things.”
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"... I believe that you'll find your way."
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He gives Nara’a a somewhat grim smile. “I hope so.” More than hope. He needs to know there’s some reason he’s still here. But this man doesn’t need to know that. “So… do you need help with anything?” Lets stop talking about him please.
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As for him... he takes a step back. Does he need anything? "... Is there a map of the city anywhere?"
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“I… no. I’m good.” Well, he’s not, but Nara’a probably knows what he needs. “The Advocate’s people might need something?” And he’s, you know, here.
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"Where are you going to be later on? Maybe I can get a drink with you."
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“I- I live at the Advocate’s temple?” Seriously what. “But I’ll probably just… be around…”
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Even if it's only a small bit of connection with someone else...
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The people they killed, the things they destroyed, in the deep, mad grief that came after the Thing died. There’s a part of him that knows it couldn’t be controlled. It doesn’t assuage the guilt or bring back the dead.
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"And... we all have things that we regret." Does he feel okay about killing all those Garleans, especially now that he's seen the system that bound them in place? Not exactly. Does he feel okay about putting down sin-eaters? Also not exactly. And then there's the things he failed to do...
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"Don't," is all he says. All he can say. He can't handle this, right now. Maybe ever.
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