EVENT LOG: FEAST OF LIGHTS

[inthenightmods]

EVENT LOG:
FEAST OF LIGHTS

characters: everyone.
location: around town.
date/time: december 23 - 30
content: Holiday cheer is here!
warnings: n/a. please cw tags appropriately.

a show of lights

When characters wake on the "morning" of the 23rd, they'll find all of Beacon is lit up beautifully. Spirits have carefully placed candles all around the town, lighting up the familiar buildings and streets with a warm, comforting glow. If others wish to help, they're more than welcome, but it won't take too long: they've clearly spent all night getting things ready. If asked, Rastus will explain the spirits do this every few years, and yes, those candles are lit from the bonfire, but he'll get them back before the end of the event.

Once the spirits finish their task, it's time to hand out dreidels! While the four-sided toy has the usual Hebrew letters on it, characters will soon realize that they've little correlation to the typical rules. Instead: each side offers a certain kind of prize (listed below). Characters can play against the spirits or among themselves, but either way, they'll find a personal dreidel in their possession for the duration of the event.

secret santa

Of course, the spirits aren't the only ones in a holiday mood. Thanks to the tireless (and secretive) efforts of Eleven, quite a number of people wake up to find a present nearby. The wrappings vary from elegant to, well, an effort, and the gifts range form big to small, but there's no doubt each was given with at least a little thoughtfulness in mind.

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Comments

[worthallthis]

Well. Okay. The Soldier can't really argue that, because it's not like they don't live under pretty much that exact same motto. But the Soldier is not a person, and has been assured by many, many people now, both with words and without words, that their experience is not typical, and their reactions and worldview are vastly out of the norm.

The fuck did they do to this kid, back home? Maybe they were right, to worry about him.

"There's less than usual, right now," they settle for saying. "But even then. No reason to be embarrassed, just more careful." They find somewhere hard-packed enough and crouch, pointing to ground beside them in invitation for Bruce to join them. Doesn't have to be within touching reach (really, they'd probably prefer if he wasn't within touching reach). "There's supposed to be supply," they mutter, looking at the dreidel, and the ground in front of them, feeling like something important is missing. "A. Betting pool. Did you have that when you played before?"

[pearlstrings]

He's not sure how to make that distinction: less than usual. Perhaps the Soldier means they aren't currently being attacked by spirits, but Bruce had been asleep for that altercation and had only been witness to the aftermath. Has mourned one loss in particular among them. But the world eaters are still a threat, the spirits are still a threat, a reset remains possible and there are also the people in town around them- many of whom he are unknown quantities, fewer still that he considers level-headed enough to trust.

Instead of saying any of this, because he suspects that's somewhat unnecessary to a man missing an entire arm, Bruce follows his lead to a space slightly less crowded but also, with apparently better earth. His brows furrow in concentration, he crouches. There is an entire arms length between them and to an outsider perhaps that might suggest a wariness, but for Bruce- to have followed at all, to sacrifice the safety of the crowd and lower his body mass- it means precisely the opposite.

"Oh-" a beat, and he reaches for the pocket of his jacket- withdraws a small pile of four coins. "These?"

[worthallthis]

That is, in fact, exactly what they mean. For the moment-- and, given previous experiences in this place, most likely until the spirits decide to put the candles away, at least-- no one is being violently attacked unless they seek out an altercation. That's the only kind of danger the light glow would really increase. It doesn't make the kind of light that would attract World Eaters (and even if it did, there's hardly enough of it) and glowing doesn't have anything to do with the reset, even if one was likely in the middle of a holiday celebration that the spirits all appear invested in. Thus, less danger than usual. Paranoia has its place, but so does a tactical understanding of current risks. Even the Soldier gets that, c'mon, Bruce.

The sight of the coins, though, makes them smile. "Yes, those'll do. Two each. I'll give them back after," they promise. "Put one on the ground, here. I'll do the same."

The distance is perfect. Enough room to spin, albeit not perfectly since even well-beaten earth is still a little uneven, but not close enough to touch. Good job, Bruce.

"Then we each spin, and see what side lands up. That determines what we do with the pool. Here." They set theirs down and give it a twirl first. It doesn't twirl for long, given the ground, but does manage several revolutions before hitting a rough patch and falling over, landing on: "Nun. That means nothing. I don't add or take from the middle. Your turn."

[pearlstrings]

Bruce was abducted from his family home, the first time when he was twelve. At fourteen he found the only person he had left to love him bleeding out on the floor of his study. At sixteen he was poisoned and spent an agonizing twenty-four hours feeling his organs fail before help arrived. At seventeen, the girl he cared for was shot and left paralyzed from the waist down infront of his garden windows- he watched her eyes glaze over. Wayne Manor was safer than Gotham city, but it would never be safe; by extension Bruce has learned that a tactical understanding of current risks means living as if there are always risks.

The Soldier takes two of the coins and Bruce nods in the moment, a signal of his understanding. This was part of what had lead him to believe it was a gambling game. And then he spins. The symbols are still unfamiliar to him, in both shape and meaning- but as the top finishes its short rotation Bruce takes note of the letter facing upward, repeats the sound in his mind. Nun.

He takes the cue for what it is and reaches for the top, spins it in turn- and watches as the same symbol comes up. A good sign, he thinks. Because nothing had happened to the Soldier. It stands to reason that nothing will happen to him.

[worthallthis]

And the Soldier was tortured, brainwashed, and mind-wiped for seventy years; not allowed to have a life beyond training and killing; and conditioned to believe that they would be punished for breathing wrong, mostly through a lot of being punished for breathing wrong. And even they can loosen up a little now and then. At least enough to register that a little bit of glowing isn't the end of the world. Bruce can learn, too.

Distraction is needed, obviously, to help with that end. Maybe the game is a good idea for more than just chasing memories. Multiple motives for one set of actions is always efficient.

"A tie," the Soldier says, relatively pleased. The dreidel feels familiar in their hand, doing this. There's still no pictures, though. Maybe when the game ends? "So we put our second coins into the middle--" They do so. "--and spin again. When someone has the entire betting pool, and the other person doesn't have anything anymore, the game is over. You can go first, this time."

[pearlstrings]

That's the thing about experience- it isn't comparative and it isn't a competition. They affect people in their own time and measure, to varying degrees and in varying ways. Some more resilient than others, some surrounded by if not love, then understanding and support. Some without. Bruce's discomfort with the glow is an extension of his life experiences: he doesn't like notoriety, he doesn't like to be noticed. Even without the argument that a glow would make him an easy target during an attack- this would be reason enough.

He's not sure he's at the festival for a distraction so much as he follows a more primal instinct- the desire to satisfy his curiosity. To have a question and want an answer. He likes to learn, he actively seeks it out especially when his understanding of a subject is slim to none.

Bruce's brows come together and his eyes lift, even as he reaches for the top. "Is it possible for us both to run out of coins?"

[worthallthis]

Maybe that's not Bruce's aim, but maybe it's the Soldier's now: distract Bruce into having a little fun and not worrying, for a couple seconds at least. Since the Soldier can't help the kid in his usual ways, they'll try this way. If even they know how to relax for brief moments at a time, Bruce should get to, as well. They might not be able to manage it, but dammit, they can try.

"If there is something in the middle," they say, "the game can continue. We just can't add more. Usually people play with more than just two coins or candies or-- buttons." They pause, an almost-picture flitting across their thoughts: using buttons one year when money was scarce. It falls away too quickly to get more than that. They continue with a blink. "--or whatever they're playing with. So it lasts a little longer."

[pearlstrings]

"Oh," he says, a small beat of understanding. So they can ante with anything, if the resources are scarce. Bruce only has the small cluster of coins- he'd given most of them away to other people that were playing or in some cases, who wanted to play but stubbornly didn't want to ask for anything. But his pockets aren't empty.

Bruce reaches into his jacket and withdraws a small orange, barely the size of his palm. His gaze lifts and just to confirm- "Then I could use this?"

[worthallthis]

"Yes." Which means the Soldier needs something else to add, too. They consider the things in their many pockets, decides not to donate a knife as that's not really in the spirit of the game, and pulls out a smooth stone instead. Bruce may or may not recognize it as being one of the ones Rastus charmed to glow, waaaaay back during the thing with the paper lanterns on the lake. It no longer glows, but it has a soft shine to it in the firelight, obviously having seen use as a more typical worry stone.

"Now we have new bets," they say with half a smile.