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[ DRAFT 12 ] For remembrance, for penitance...
[ OOC: The following open-comment log has been written in third person, as this is not a communicator-post. Please feel free to interrupt what she's doing, in comment-log style, or third, whichever you please. <3 ]
It had been weeks since Meth had completed rebuilding the temple on deck thirteen. She hadn't been back since, instead occupying herself with minor repairs around the ship. On any other day off, she might have kept to herself in the tree house on deck three, but today wasn't a typical day off for Meth.
Her steps were slow and even as she walked across the field of flowers, and in her hands, Meth carried two oversized tote bags, filled to capacity. On her off days, Meth was usually still in work clothes of some variety. She liked to carry small tools with her on the off chance she saw something small that needed fixing. Today, however, her usual garb had been replaced with something quite different. The voluminous pants she wore were made of a thick blue linen that cut short at her calves, and her sleeveless shirt swept across her chest to close in clasps down her side. Instead of heavy work boots, she wore simple flat sandals, leaving her bare feet to be tickled by the flowers as she made her way across the field.
At the entrance of the temple, Meth paused to set her bags down. She looked inside with her expression a mixture of solemnity and apprehension, and with a deep breath, stepped inside to begin.
It had been weeks since Meth had completed rebuilding the temple on deck thirteen. She hadn't been back since, instead occupying herself with minor repairs around the ship. On any other day off, she might have kept to herself in the tree house on deck three, but today wasn't a typical day off for Meth.
Her steps were slow and even as she walked across the field of flowers, and in her hands, Meth carried two oversized tote bags, filled to capacity. On her off days, Meth was usually still in work clothes of some variety. She liked to carry small tools with her on the off chance she saw something small that needed fixing. Today, however, her usual garb had been replaced with something quite different. The voluminous pants she wore were made of a thick blue linen that cut short at her calves, and her sleeveless shirt swept across her chest to close in clasps down her side. Instead of heavy work boots, she wore simple flat sandals, leaving her bare feet to be tickled by the flowers as she made her way across the field.
At the entrance of the temple, Meth paused to set her bags down. She looked inside with her expression a mixture of solemnity and apprehension, and with a deep breath, stepped inside to begin.
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Meth had smashed the dying coals with her fists, broken apart the pieces with her fingers, and in doing so, she felt something snap into place inside. It had felt so right to do this at last. Meth had curled her fingers into the ashes and raised them over her head. Dull ash drifted through her fingers into her hair, and she smoothed her dirty hands over her hair, and once more over her face, leaving streaks in their wake.
Bathed in ashes, ceremony completed, Meth gathered her things in one bag, and on a whim, the seagull in the other, and headed to Sergei's bar.
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He tilts his head a little as he sees she's not alone. He laughs a bit at the seagull in the bag. "Well hello to the both of you. Making more friends, Miss Meth?"
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[Lenny snaps his beak to greet the bartender. The ride was pretty awesome; he'd ridden on Jared's head before, but add in a bag and you've got yourself a personal sky-bucket.
He just hopes Remy'll give him something even if he stays put. Getting a snack is all well and good but nothing could possibly match bag-service.
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He found me in the middle of things and made himself at home.
[Leaning her elbows on the counter, she rested her head in her hands. They were all covered in ashes so it wasn't as if they could get dirtier by touching.]
There should be a bottle of vedhir in the back corner. Once I have a shot of that you can serve me whatever you want.
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[He asks her this as he looks for the bottle in question. He likes to pride himself on the variety of liquor he has imbibed and as such, when he hears of one unfamiliar to him, he has to try it.
Remy finds the unfamiliar bottle with enough searching and pours a shot for her. Lenny, you have a bowl of popcorn.]
sorry for the late tag <3
[Lenny munches away happily. He looks to Meth and nods down at the bowl he just stuck his face in.]
You can have some too.
NP <3
[She looks over to the seagull, and raises her eyebrow at the bird a moment, before reaching out and picking up a few pieces of popcorn. Popping them into her mouth, she looked back to Remy. Meth seems to be considering something, and when she decides to speak, it's oddly formal.]
Will you pour a shot for yourself and drink with me, Remy Whitecastle?
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[He pours her shot and then looks up as she asks him to pour a second for himself. He gently smiles.]
I'd be honored to, miss Meth.
[He pours himself a shot and looks to Lenny.]
Water for you, then?
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Nah, gimme something fizzy.
[He emphasizes his demand with a stern hoot.]
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[Meth took the shot glass in her hands, and stared at it a moment. It didn't look any different from other liquids, but somehow it was still foreign looking. Unrecognizable. She brought it up to her nose, inhaling to catch its scent. Stranger still, and she just couldn't seem to guess how it would taste.
Meth waited for Remy to pour something for the bird. She hadn't expected a bird to join her for the aftermath, but he was polite enough, so Meth found the experience rather novel.]
Tonight we toast to Pel.
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[Remy served Lenny a shallow bowl of Sprite. He wasn't sure how birds reacted to caffeine.
He noticed her looking oddly a the shot glass]
Have you had it before?
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How do they make stuff like this? It's freaking amazing!
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[She took a deep breath. It had been so, so difficult to say that. Pel was. Not is.]
In Askoupur, some of us get lucky. We're chosen, somehow, and bonded to a deity. We serve as their anchor to the land, and they give us a gift of power. Pel was mine. My deity, and no one else's.
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[He waits for her to shoot before he would.
A chitter is heard and Bandit hops on the stool near Lenny]
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[Lenny stares daggers at the horrible rat demon.]
You're not getting any. Go away.
[He snaps his beak- a formal threat!]
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[She lifted her shot glass. Her words seemed formal at first, though steadily growing more emotional.]
To Pel. In honor of his devotion and contribution to the people of Askoupur, and the bond we shared.
Rest easy, my friend.
[Meth threw back the shot, ignoring the way it burned, or the bitterness that made her want to spit it up again. It tasted awful, and she drank it down in one smooth motion.]