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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.
no subject
[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!]
no subject
[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.]