( open ) mid-autumn in gisela

[hoasen]

Who: Anyone who wants to celebrate Mid Autumn Festival!
When: Roughly 11th September to 17th September.
Where: Gisela
What: A log for those who wish to use their tickets during Mid Autumn Festival! You can still use this log for visits outside of this week too (as a catch-all) but the script is for the festivities. Basically what you can do is hang out at the Inn, at Gisela, or check out the island's hot springs!
Rating: Probably PG only for if a lantern catches fire or something.


[Welcome to Gisela, the floating sky islands above Gresser! Known for its mystic scenery, hot springs, and the fact that you nearly died the one time you had a dungeon here, Gisela could be considered a popular vacation spot. Or at least it should be, because Vietnam invested good money into this inn.

Inn, you say? Yes, after the defeating the dungeon, Vietnam bought a business here, an inn near the hot springs, Dragon's Flight and Phoenix Dance. A normally quaint inn, it has transformed to offer more festivities. Staff will welcome you with elaborate fruit displays they will put in your room for you to admire (and eat). You may also like to sign up for mooncake making sessions, where you will be able to make mooncakes together with your friends and family! Share a moment with them, and then share the mooncake. Nice.

Lanterns are strung up, leading you out towards the gardens. The inn itself doesn't have a lot of space for A GREAT FESTIVAL, but on certain nights, there will be lion dancing and a few stalls opened up to sell souvenirs, all handcrafted thanks to Vietnam's instruction. Now, lion dancing usually consist of two or more people under a lion costume, however, some generous NPCs have lent them some tame magical lion beasts that look similar to the Asian mythological kind. However, Vietnam and Kija also found a pretty wild one that seems to be stuck eating some lion snacks, because they tried to wrangle it and before they could run, they were forced to commit. Kija named it Jae-ha.

Go further, and it seems like the hot springs that Vietnam has permission to use have also a bit of decoration themselves, with something heat and water proof, that is.

Should you just want to spend your time looking at the moon, darker, quieter areas of the gardens will let you do just that. Sit down and relax, of course.

If you don't really care about any of this at all, perhaps you'd just want to go sightseeing in Gisela!

And basically do whatever you want in this place, really. RELAX, HERO.]

Comments

2/2

[likethelight]

[ For a moment...

... and there is just letting the breath he'd been holding out finally in a long, almost wearied exhale and moving to entwine his gloved fingers with hers where she'd reached for his hand. Almost like someone finally weakly acknowledging (hai, hai) his defeat and resignation.

(Haah... this will be the end of him.)

Because with a twist of his wrist and almost elegantly smooth motion he'll bring her hand to his face. That small but important sort of gesture like when he'd first done it in the infirmary, nose touched to knuckles in solemn punctuation of the pledge to fight by her side (and make her happy). Like that second time over tea, hands joined as if in prayer and brought up to almost touch lips as he promised her yes, they could and were together on the same sort of path. Here. In the world at least. As long as it was so. But unlike those times...

...it's a little hard to tell actually. Just because of the tingle of warm-cool white mana that tickles a bit like feathers. Although that could also just be because of breath, warm and unexpected. Or perhaps he really has brought her hand up to just so-barely lift his chin—and touch his lips to her fingertips.

In the most reverent, quiet sort of way.

(It is, after all, forever the single gesture reserved just for Lux. The one you could never get him to admit to or even acknowledge he doesn't do with anyone else simply because of how grouchy he'd get over it.)

And also perhaps something to quickly curtail the moment. As he lets their hands drop a little—just a little—to cock his head to the side then and smile softly.

Softly, and quite mysteriously indeed. ♥ Although there's almost something a little sad—a little old and tired—about it too. ]

Have you written a wish with the lanterns yet, Lux?

you know what fuck it this icon works well enough

[rememberher]

[ As he slipped his fingers between hers, her mind ran through how this scene would play out. A gentle squeeze, perhaps, and him canting his head gently in mind concern ("Lux..?"), before putting on something of a smoothed over, albeit worried smile before saying something to break that spell. Because that was how it always happened; it had become almost routine by this point.

Yet she couldn't help but shake the feeling that something was different, the way he almost sighed in acknowledgement and resignation. Allen, what were you..?

Feeling him draw her hand upward, the scene changed slightly in her mind. He had done this before as well, gently brushing his nose against her knuckles, or letting her hand hover just short of his lips. And that would be that, right? He would say something brief and heart-wrenching as he always did, her hand suspended, and the moment, while sweet and meaningful as these moments often were, would pass without consequence.

Those lines could remain divided, clear and strong, and not at all muddied around the edges. She would not let them blur.

Soldier, one that they both embraced; and woman, one that neither would cross.

And still unable to speak, his hand moved hers with purpose. To bring her hand, still caught in his, to his face. Tipping his chin ever so and, without hesitation, to brush her fingertips against his lips.

(It was warm, the feeling of that incandescent light woven between her fingertips, and colors running truer than they had before, they almost seemed to rustle like leaves in a gentle autumn breeze. Swirling and lifting, alive but also somehow so very still, dusting his lips ever so gently. Reaching.)

As someone so keenly aware of her surroundings, concerned with things such as social decorum and how one should act in a public space, it was strange how little that seemed to matter to Lux in this moment. How the courtyard and the people within it seemed to fall away in an instant, this instant. Their voices carrying through the chilled autumn air did not reach here, could not lift the spell cast in that moment.

Catching her own breath as it quickly and quietly drew inward, Lux sat suspended, caught completely unawares and unsure of what to do. Something so innocent and chaste, it caught in her throat, her head reeling, and though it was over just as quickly as it happened, she could still feel that lingering sensation on her fingertips.

The warm-cool swirl of his own mana, soft and featherlight, and the gentle, tender warmth of his lips.

(Could he feel it too? That lingering warmth that made up every color that she was? A warmth that was, in all ways, truly only present for and because of him?)

A kiss on the hand was something so familiar to her, and something that, while she did not mind, always felt somewhat shallow, like someone trying their best to show how much of a gentleman they were. To Lux, such a thing was the ultimate display of lip service.

And even the pale light of the moons couldn't save her, the heat of a blush rolling across her cheekbones and gently coloring even her ears so very apparent. A warm, gentle rosy pink.

(Soldier and woman. Both parts that wanted to walk beside him, but, as she was beginning to realize, for very different reasons, in very different ways. The soldier for strength and belonging. And the woman... for stolen moments like this that made her heart race and her head rush. Moments that reminded her of how human she could be.

They weren't blurred, she realized, for both could exist. Two separate paths, both bound by that same shimmering thread of love.)

...He expected her to speak after that? ]

Ah—

[ It came out a bit forced, an almost strangled sound lacking any sort of substance or volume. And at that, she looked dreadfully embarrassed, masking it over a rather forced smile. ]

I... I haven't... had the chance yet.

miss luxanna, really....

[likethelight]

[ The problem with that...

The problem with that, you see... is because of the kind of person Allen is, lines like that don't exist to him. Because to Allen, clear, strong, divided lines... can never exist for long. In anything.

People don't work like that.

Because Lux is Lux. Someone who is so very important—who he fights beside, yes—but especially for Allen who doesn't even consider himself a good soldier or even a warrior... It's not about her being however many clear, strong, and divided lines... because she's simply Lux to him. Like everyone is whoever they are, the entirety of their feelings and convictions.

And the entirety of her feelings, that small prismatic burst (ah... tingles?) is reminder enough as well of that. Lux, whose nature of her soul he's become so familiar and comfortable around with over the months. Who feels so strongly and so warmly it's like being caught up in a sunburst.

Trying to push those around to fit into little boxes would be insulting to those feelings. To someone's humanity.

(Light doesn't stay between the lines. It shines through them.)

But if he noticed she squeaked or stammered he is far and away too polite to let on that he did. Which is why he smiles quite warmly, quite politely, instead and sits back a little and releases her hand. Like absolutely nothing is out of the ordinary.

Save, perhaps, for the small brush of fingers together as he lets go of her hand and somewhat glossy quality still of his smile. ]

I think I know what I'd like to write now.

It's like the festival, isn't it? [ When they'd tied wishes to the trees. ]

what did she say about using that name allen?

[rememberher]

[ Living in a world of black and white for most of her life, these definitions, these clear and dichotomous delineations were a necessity, the last little thing that she held on to. To define, to understand, and thus, to know how to act. It was silly, really, to hold on to something that was likely meaningless, but in trying to understand how she felt for him, to put it into words, she thought it necessary.

And as with most things, she managed to over-complicate this as well. For it was the same for her; he was simply Allen, a man who made her so infinitely happy at times that she thought that she might burst. Allen, who she felt in some ways she knew so well, and yet in others not at all.

Someone who (and she couldn't be quite sure, because it seemed too easy and not at all logical) might actually feel the same for her. And that terrified her, both that uncertainty and the possibility that she was right.

Sion told her that she needed to be true to her feelings, to tell him. That he truly cared about her. And while she denied it, growing almost emotional in those moments—it wasn't like that, she told him, and it could never be like that no matter how she felt on the matter—in that moment, she so very desperately wanted to say those words that had been etched on her heart. To tell him that she would give him the sun and stars if he asked for them. Anything, just to see that smile, to hear him laugh, and to remain by his side, her hand held gently in his.

"You mean the world to me."

And as he released her hand and the spell cast in that truly intimate and timeless moment, her posture finally eased again, settling into a gentle, muted contentment.

The festival, the night where this journey all began. She didn't know what to write then, settling for something simple; "I want to shine for all of them."

But after all these months, she finally had a better answer.

Canting her head to the side, a somewhat girlish smile spreading across her lips and catching in her eyes, there was a gentle lilt in her voice. ]

Will you tell me?

[ Of course she didn't expect him to. Such was the nature of wishes, but curiosity (and a bit of playfulness) won the day. ]

that it made her violent...?

[likethelight]

[ oh ]

Well...

[ Perhaps then he does look a touch awkward just because—this isn't really a ceremony he's familiar with. But the sentiment is one he appreciates enough and he found the festival of lights a couple months prior quite touching so why not?

It's for a similar sort of reason like when Makoto gave him her paper to write his wish on that Allen reaches for the lantern he'd been given. To hold it up with a smile as if to ask if this sort of thing is okay...? He's British and while well-traveled he wasn't in Asia that long.

And look, see he'll even hold up the pen they'd given him too as if to make his intent more obvious...! ]

I thought perhaps we could both write one. [ i mean he could get up and go find another for her but

It seems important for the same sort of reason why he'd found Makoto's gesture touching. ]

[rememberher]

[ Demacia is basically fantasy Great Britain so she's just about as clueless as he is with this as he is.

When asked to write a wish during the Festivale de la Ceinturonne, Lux was unsure of what to write. For something like that, writing one's wishes on a slip of paper and tying them to a tree... it seemed a bit odd. But she played along, writing something that, at the time, seemed to make sense:

"I want to shine for all of them."

Because it was truly how she felt.

And it wasn't that Lux had changed her mind, she still felt strongly about that, but somehow that wish seemed... incomplete, and a bit narrow in scope.

But now... Even if this sort of thing was still unfamiliar, she knew what she would write now.

So when he suggested they write one together, even holding up the pen for emphasis, she couldn't help but feel absolutely tickled by the idea. That girlish grin only growing as she moved a bit closer, holding her hand out. ]

Only if you let me write them.

[ Because really, Allen, your handwriting was terrible, and not even the mightiest of deities would be able to decipher his scrawl. ]