[EVENT] Bonfire Night

[ironwood]

Characters: ALL!
Date: February 21st
Location: Various.
Situation: It’s cold. Time to cuddle up and make bonfires for the warmth.
Warnings/Rating: Add warnings as needed.

As night falls the city’s lights take something of a unique turn. Instead of being lit by millions of paper lanterns, Keeliai is tonight lit by the flames and warmth of dozens if not hundreds of fires. Some of them are small, not much more than warming hearths in a barrel on a street, but others encompass squares and boulevards.

The fire lighting procession winds through the city’s streets, beginning at the first bonfire in Fire Sector. By the time full night has arrived, that procession is a snake illuminated by dozens of torches, parting from the main parade to light smaller fires in smaller streets. It ends, finally, in Central, in the Courtyard of Public Opinion, whose bonfire is second only to the initiating one in Fire Sector.

In some areas an exchange of goods arises, mostly in terms of woollens and other warm clothes and blankets. Though food is considered a public resource on this occasion, bartering small knickknacks, songs, stories and even other woollen items is not uncommon an exchange.

Meals are shared among kedan and Foreigners, commoners and emissaries--primarily stews, soups and other foods easily baked in the coals of the fires. Everyone brings food, and what isn’t contributed to the pot is nevertheless shared around after preparation. Although some bonfires are markedly wealthier than others, food and shelter is spread around to make sure everyone is safe and warm. No one goes cold and alone on this night.

---

LINKS
Fire Sector (main bonfire) | Water Sector | Metal Sector | Earth Sector | Wood Sector | Central Keeliai

OOC Notes
The five Bresilykian emissary NPC can be found moving from Sector to Sector and partaking in the various traditions of each, and so can be engaged anywhere, while the Keeliai NPCs generally are staying in their respective areas as detailed below. Please put the name of the NPC you're requesting in the subject line of your tag if you want to interact with them. Thank you!

Comments

socks, you say

[wrathfulkhan]

Gene's made his way back towards the Hotel for the evening when he spies Anton. Knitting.

It's a bit fascinating to watch, really, and he gets himself a cup of the hot chocolate analogue and sips it, watching.

It has not occurred to him that this may in fact be creepy.

socks so say i.

[gistful]

Anton wasn't unaccustomed to being observed, and though he noticed it he didn't call attention to Gene until Gene's observation reached an unusual length of time. At that point Anton had paused to wash some of the cups, so he looked up and directly at Gene.

"Would you like me to wash your mug for you?" he asked, and inclined his head toward the cauldron. "You may take another, if you wish."

[wrathfulkhan]

"Ah - no thank you," Gene said delicately, not wanting to create further work for Anton, even in something as simple as washing a mug. Lord knew the man worked hard enough. "I still have some left." He'd been conserving it; not because it wasn't good, but because he wanted to savor it. The local hot chocolate analogue held some memory associations for him. They weren't necessarily good ones, but they were important all the same.

"How do you do that? Knitting, I mean." The mechanics of it eluded him, and he was academically curious.

[gistful]

"Ah. The first thing you need to know is what you're making; one cannot set out to make socks with single-point needles, for example." Anton held out the array in his hands so Gene could see it more clearly. Anton's looked more complicated than it was, since he was using multiple double-pointed needles instead of one circular.

"These are double-point needles," Anton explained. "They're used to create circular items. Circular needles perform the same function, though they were only created at the opening of the twentieth century and I confess some reservation toward their use. Single-point needles can only create flat surfaces such as blankets, scarves, the front and backs of clothes."

He made a stitch, doing so slowly so Gene could see. "This is a stocking stitch, which is among the simplest and fastest, though there are many other stitches which can be combined to create different patterns or textures. It's created like so--" He made another few stitches, all slow and easily visible.

[wrathfulkhan]

"Interesting," Gene said, examining Anton's terrifying needle array. Double-pointed needles are a whole new form of fiber arts sorcery and circular needles just sound like an elaborate torture device. Note to self: procure circular needles in case of dire situation.

"I confess, I've never actually given much thought to how things are stitched," he admitted, though the stocking stitch looked familiar to him. He'd seen items made with that before. "So this works by basically creating an elaborate series of knots in one skein of yarn?"

[gistful]

"That is precisely what it does, yes." Anton resumed his progress, faster than before but not quite so fast as his usual wont, so Gene could follow along. "Knitted fabrics are far more versatile than woven ones because they can be stretched in all directions; woven fabrics can only be stretched along one axis. Of course, woven fabrics are generally sturdier--if one or two threads break, they don't compromise the weave of the whole. An untended broken thread in a knitted garment can unravel the whole, given time and opportunity."

[wrathfulkhan]

Gene watched as Anton resumed knitting and explained the pros and cons of knitted fabrics. The terrifying needle array was no less terrifying in action, and the dexterity required was impressive.

"That sounds like it could be a metaphor," he muttered, half to himself. He's been that untended broken thread, and given the events of the month, the comparison seemed a bit apt. In his normal tone, he asked, "So how do you fix it when the thread breaks?"

[gistful]

"Many things can be metaphors," Anton said simply, and then moved on. "It depends upon the type of garment and size of the hole. Sometimes some unravelling is required to properly brace the edges of the area to be patched. This is usually required for socks--like so."

He found a pair of socks he'd darned and repaired and showed Gene the patches on the heel and beneath the toes. They were a blatantly different colour, but matched the original so the design looked chosen. "I simply unravelled the edges to even them for the square patch I knitted to fill it in. Socks wear quickly, so reinforcement and re-knitting are usually the best approach--that is why I did the same for the other sock though it had not yet worn through."

[wrathfulkhan]

"Preventative maintenance," Gene said, nodding. "It's interesting that you have to unravel it more before you can fix it. I can't think of a lot of things like that."

Okay, yes he can, but this isn't exactly English class here.

"Though after a while, wouldn't it be more efficient to just make new socks?"

[gistful]

"Sometimes a foundation is too flawed to be kept. That doesn't mean the rest is irredeemable." If there was any deeper meaning to that, Anton's bland tone made it difficult to tell; but there was a slightly distant look in his eye, as if he was thinking of something in particular.

It only lasted a moment. "It would," he agreed. "Which is why I do, if I have the opportunity. But in the middle of a war, in the field, in the trench, there isn't often the opportunity. Maintaining what we had as best as we could was the best course available."

[wrathfulkhan]

"Remove and reconstitute." A concept that did in fact make some sense, to Gene. He'd had to do that with himself, in some respects.

"Ah, yes, well. In wartime, things are different." There was a long pause where Gene went to get himself more of the hot drink. "So, tell me - do you think we're truly out of wartime, or have we simply awoken into a more subtle conflict?"

[gistful]

It felt like a leading question, and it was one Anton didn't answer right away in favour of considering his answer. "I think it depends on your qualification for conflict," Anton said at last. "You phrase your question as though they are one and the same, or should be. A war? No, I would not say a war; but a conflict, most certainly."

[wrathfulkhan]

"War is just conflict writ large," Gene noted. At least, in his opinion. "Though I may be biased; I consider myself to have been at war most of my life."

He took a sip of his drink, thinking. "I was hoping that everything would be falling in our favor when we returned from the Dreaming. A foolish hope, I suppose."

[gistful]

"As have I," said Anton, "though they were, at many times, different wars." The one against Mevolent lasted the longest and was entirely magical in nature, but there were many other wars, mortal ones, Anton saw from both the inside and the out. "The size of conflict is, however, an important distinction to make."

[wrathfulkhan]

"It is," Gene says, nodding. "Though the most personal ones can be the most damaging, in a way. Myself, I'd rather fight a war on a macro scale."

Yeah, he's still thinking about what he'd gone through with Tony earlier in the month. He'd rather fight a Makluan berserker than do that again.

[gistful]

Anton regarded Gene for a very long moment. They were somewhat off the original topic, here, and Anton was beginning to wonder why the subject at all. "Is there something on your mind, Master Khan?" he asked gently.

[wrathfulkhan]

Sorry, Anton, you must be at least a level 4 friend to unlock Gene's tragic backstory.

He shrugs. "No more than usual." A bit of a lie, that, but not by much. He's always preoccupied with something or other. It's clear he doesn't want to discuss whatever's bothering him, and it's almost like he locks up the emotion.

[gistful]

Fair enough. Anton inclined his head in acknowledgement and went on. "Conflicts are many and varied, it is true," he said. "In some ways wars are more straight-forward than personal or even internal unrest. Yet, in others, a macro war, as you say, becomes one with a person. It never truly leaves, and feeds what other conflicts are present."

[wrathfulkhan]

Gene deeply appreciated that Anton didn't pry. That made him better than at least half the Foreigners, in his opinion.

"Do you think it never does truly leave?" he asked curiously. "That any conflict leaves its mark?"

[gistful]

"All conflicts leave their mark," Anton agreed. "Even if not scars, a conflict defines you. The person after is never the same as the person before, even if it's only a small change. How we overcome a conflict, no matter how slight, is what defines our beings in the future. What we do during a conflict--that will always remain."

His voice was soft and he'd lowered the knitting as he spoke, and though he was looking at Gene there was also the distance of memory in his eyes. Anton's life had been made of conflict, even more than most. His life had been made of controlling the gist, every second of the day.

[wrathfulkhan]

Gene knew that middle-distance look quite well. He'd always respected Anton, but his level of respect for the kindly proprietor of the Midnight Hotel just ticked up a few notches. The man had Seen Some Shit.

"Once touched by conflict - damaged by it, you might say - do you think someone can ever overcome it?"

[gistful]

Anton smiled, and it was gently knowing. "Do you have scars on your body, Master Khan? Places where you've been cut and it still lingers? Have you let them keep you from walking, moving, acting? The scars of the mind are no different; the only change is in how we approach them. People think that scars which cannot be seen don't exist, and that is what makes them deeper. Would you deny a broken leg?"

How many times had Hopeless thrown up his hands over one or another of the Dead Men trying to pretend their wounds of the mind didn't exist? How much nudging did it take before they sheepishly admitted the hurt? As a mind-reader Hopeless had shared the pain of those around him, and few things had hurt him more than mental wounds not just untended but willingly denied.

[wrathfulkhan]

Probably not the best guy to ask that question to, Anton. Gene would deny a broken leg to the point of ceaseless stupidity in order to avoid receiving help. And every time he'd gone back and revisited his pain, it had always been against his will; in the temple in Egypt, for example, and with Malicant. The wounds of the past were over and done with, and he was more than content to let them lie. Unless of course they were beginning to fester, as such old, untreated wounds often did.

He sat there with his cup for a moment, and just thought.

"There are some things that I'm not sure can be treated." Read: there are things fundamentally wrong with me that cannot be fixed.

[gistful]

For a moment Anton sat knitting, and then he nodded, more to himself than to Gene. "I had a friend," he said. "He was a mind-reader; he understood things about the human mind I could never imagine. People would talk to him just to know that someone was listening who wouldn't judge."

Anton looked up, regarding Gene. "It is true, some things cannot be cured. But he would always say that anything can be treated, and therefore managed--if one is willing to try. You are young yet, Gene, and I dare say too experienced for your age." He smiled. "But that means you can take advantage of the mistakes we older fools have made. It is not easy, and it is often painful, but I promise you that people can change. They can learn. And they can even, come the future, reach a place where they look back and marvel at how they found their way."

[wrathfulkhan]

A shudder passed through Gene at the thought of having a friend who could be discussed as a mind-reader. He knew it was hypocritical of him; he'd used his ring to look into and ensnare the minds of others before, but a habitual mind-reader...that was different. A man needed to have some secrets, after all, for his own sanity. Gene's mind was the only sanctum he had left, the only place he could have put together his plots and schemes with no danger of Zhang finding them and killing him.

But when he turned his attention to the rest of Anton's words, he found them reassuring, in an odd way. The reinforcement that maybe he wasn't inherently awful, that maybe he could turn himself around...it meant a lot. In some ways, it meant more to hear it from an impartial observer than it did from Tony, who was always too damn willing to see the best in people even when it wasn't actually there and had, if not the worst judgment in Keeliai, definitely secured a spot in the top five. And Anton seemed to have a good head on his shoulders.

There's no sarcasm, no evasion, no lies. All he says is "Thank you. I think I needed to hear that," and refills his cup, just a bit.