The Waking of Neran

[voidtreckermods]

"Good morning Voidtreckers and passengers. Today is day twenty one of the month of Orchestra. We will be arriving in System #78961112094711 later today and the dressing carriage is open for your use."

It is indeed, with thick winter coats, hats, scarves and gloves in all sizes. There are also some bags suitable for carrying food, for anyone who wants to add to the festival food with more food!

They have the morning to prepare before another announcement.

"Shortly arriving in System #78961112094711. The weather is extremely cold, voidtreckers and passengers should wrap up warm and wear their SCA's at all times. Arriving in ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one."
The train shakes as they leave the void and they will see dark skies with glowing flecks of light falling down around them. It's only a glimpse before there is rock to both sides as they enter the landing area.

---

The Waking of Neran

---

... ARRIVAL TO OSIGA

THE VOIDTRECKER EXPRESS PULLS INTO AN OPEN HIGH-STACKED PARKING STATION, FILLED ALREADY BY A VARIETY OF VEHICLES. Darkness and the cold spills into where they pull in, lights and signs around to guide the Voidtreckers who exit the craft where they need to go, elevator and teleporting systems available to choose from.

For those turn their gaze to where the cold comes, they will see a view of the world: a landscape of mountains lit in burning bright blue. Like Christmas and city lights, they can be seen in the far distance, and the sky too glows with a shimmering, falling blue. It looks like a slow rain, while farther up, the twinkling of actual stars can be glimpsed.

This will be their view of the world for three Osiga days - 210 hours, give or take.

The lower floor widens into a train-like station, shuttles ready to take them into Osiga proper in short five minute rides. They just need to figure out they need to scan their SCAs at the turnstiles, which will beep with approval, and send a map to their SCA of the grotto.

With a handy dot to their hotel.

... THE IRUE GROTTO

HOTEL. THE EXTERIOR OF THE HOTEL IS STONY, A WALL OF UNEVEN ROCK WITH SLITS FOR WINDOWS CLIMBING UPWARD. It gives off a sparse, cold impression, but the interior is anything but. Inside the floors are smoother, a carpet in the middle of a lobby, and the walls are decorated with colourful paints and endless rugs and furs. There's seating, a roaring fire in one corner, and lighting set to a cosy mood.

There's stairs that can be taken, but also elevators. The bedrooms are much the same as the lobby, with paints and furs all around - the furs especially covering the beds, along with hand stitched quilts. In the centre is a fire pit, set with heatstones than wood or coal, and extras in a container by a wall with safety instructions of how to move them (with tongs and gloves).

Outside the rest of the grotto can be seen, a mish-mash of layers closer to a labyrinth. There's curtains for privacy, and also a screen to help blot out the sound.

---

FOOD & SIGHTS.

NOW, THE IRUE GROTTO CAN BE EXPLORED. The grotto is easy to get lost in, with stone stairs and archways doubling as bridges to lead to different levels, but always with something to see. Museums and art galleries fill most of the lower layers down, a few shops between of traditional trinkets and garments for those who come out interested in taking a piece of Osiga back with them. There are also day classes, with candle-making a big one on the first night.

Water runs through constructed streams, small but always in travel. They fall off into small waterfalls, eventually gathering into pools that always ensure drink is around. But there's also drinking spaces around, wall coves where servers mind the drinks, and people gather around on crouched seating. Privacy isn't a big deal in Osiga; visitors welcomed into conversation freely. The drinks favour the strong, spicy and sweet. Their traditional drinks are a fiery whisky and a sweet creamy milk drink flavoured by spices that taste very much like cinnamon and nutmeg. It is strongly alcoholic though there is a non alcoholic version as well. There are other drinks available of course from other planets but visitors are encouraged in a good natured way to try the good stuff.

And let's not forget the food. Most traditional Osigian dishes are spicy yet sweet, fatty, and largely meat. There are also food baskets all over, filled with wrapped snacks free for taking, or to add your own. Never let your neighbour go hungry. What will you find, dipping your hand in: a treat, or a mistake?

---

SORS PARKS, OPEN SKIES. THE FARTHER FROM THE HOTELS AND STATION VISITORS GO, THE MORE THE SKY BECOMES VISIBLE, AND WITH IT THE FALLING SNOW. Except this isn't snow, and those who venture out will figure this soon enough. There are sors parks up ahead, hard to miss for how they glow a brilliant blue, tall erratic sculptures shaped like an abstract mess. They're cold, even colder than the rest of the grotto, and near every entrance are wooden racks with coats and scarfs hanging from pegs, a bucket of heatstones to stick in pockets.

Keeping company is better than not. Anyone who goes in alone will find the chill uncomfortable to those who have someone else nearby, SCAs working stronger together. Paths somehow stay free from being covered in the icy mess, and every few yards are grit bins with small bags to put the contents in, instructions as to what to do.

And that's to throw them at the sculptures, into the air, and watch as the hardened ice disperses into a fizzle of lights. The sight is considered beautiful, and especially fun for kids and couples.

... ANAN & THE MINISTRY

It's maybe an hour or so after their arrival when a message comes through the comms on their SCA's.

boop beep boop beep / boop boop boop/ boop boop/ beep//
beep beep / boop beep//
beep beep beep boop/ boop boop boop/ beep beep/ boop beep beep / boop / beep boop beep/ beep/ boop beep boop beep/ boop beep boop/ beep/ beep boop beep/ beep beep beep//

"It didn't close the hack. I think your Voidtrecker Express likes me." Anan sounds almost triumphant. "Glad you all came. I'm at the drinking space next to the Irue Museam of Osigan Art."

For those that wish to go and meet her, they can.

... THE WAKING OF NERAN

NIGHT ONE: REMEMBERING. It's hard to tell when 'night' begins when the world is in darkness and there are more hours in the day then they are perhaps used to. But things begin to wind down a little, the art houses and museums close and the day activities are wrapped up.

People begin making their way to the main streets where the parade will go. Some people may have made candles throughout the day but there are also long candles for sale and 'fire' bearers carrying large torches to light the candles. The main lights are all turned off, plunging the streets into darkness lit only by the candles and the faint distant glow of sors.

The parade itself has large lit floats, literally floating above the ground, the lights are in intricate shapes. There are light dancers- people dressed completely in black to blend in to the night, with ribbons of light doing feats of acrobatics to music- instruments and volcaless voices weaving melodies.

After the parade passes by people move to the streams, where their floating candles that can be lit and sent on their way. There are designated areas for the tall candles to be placed- almost shrine like with areas to pray or think or sing- the helpful guides will assist anyone and are very open to the different ways people from various worlds and cultures may wish to remember their dead.

Afterwards people are encouraged to drink, eat, spend time with the living and swap stories of the dead. Dance and sing. It is upbeat, joyous and the tears are meant to be cathartic.

NIGHT TWO: PERSEVERING. After another day of activities- or resting and recovering from the excess of the night before the grotto again is ready in anticipation. The side of the grotto open to the sky is packed with people, ledges and railings packed with people. Even the buildings on this side of the grotto have opened their doors to allow people up on their roofs to watch the firework display.

Sparklers are sold, as are snacks and drinks and a voice comes through speakers throughout the space.

"NERAN! On this night you fight!" The crowd cheers. "Hear our dedication, return to us! For tonight is a night of COURAGE!"

The crowd cheers again and the fireworks begin. Loud and colourful, beautiful shapes, almost like dances in the sky. It's loud and it's busy but the atmosphere is great, throughout the night within the crowd there are marriage proposals, declarations of new jobs, decisions to travel the void. Bravery and courage abound- helped probably by the strong whisky that is flowing freely.

NIGHT THREE: UNITY. The festival continues, though it's a slightly later start on day three for many who are nursing hangovers, having a well earned sleep in preparation for the final night or just frantically trying to remember what declarations they had made the night before.

But the activities are still happening throughout the grotto- though the guides might advise any obvious voidtravellers that they may wish to nap before 'night' time, especially if they are not used to day/night cycles this long. The final night doesn't stop til sunrise after all and no one wants to miss the sun rising!

As the time comes for the party to start every square and every street is packed, music blares through speakers. Traditional Osigan music mixed with styles and music from other planets in the galexy. The traditional Osigan music has many layers, deep bass instruments that seem to make the ground itself rumble.

There is dancing, led by guides and locals. They are big circle dances, loud energetic and done in unity. There are callers who keep everyone in time and remind them of the steps but it is mostly an exercise in organised chaos.

But very fun organised chaos. There's extra chairs and benches set around for people who would rather watch or need a break from the endless swirl of dancers. There's plenty of water in large barrels for people to help themselves and other drinks are available to buy.

The party goes on for hours but eventually the music stops and there is an announcement that they have an hour left until sunrise. People begin moving out to find the best spots to watch. Up high on the cliffs people spread out rugs and blankets and settle, waiting.

The atmosphere is one of anticipation, people passing around drinks and snacks. Then there is a hush, a cry as for the first time in a month the first ray of light streaks across the sky.

Neran has awoken. The sun has returned once more.

OOC NOTES

OOC post. Ask questions here. The Ministry's testimony form is here

Comments

[dyingpro]

His are all the same color - the crimson red of the House of Hades - likely to save time on making so many. "You're right, these are for most of the Shades I know from home," Zagreus admits, carefully lighting Sisyphus' candle with another laurel leaf, and sending it downstream.

"I'm not good at these funerary orations, but I'll try my best. Sisyphus may not have been a good man in life. Than has... a history with him I'd rather not get into, and I'm sure he'd be livid if he knew I was honoring Sisyphus with a candle. But he's changed, now, in his afterlife. The Sisyphus I grew up knowing is a kind Shade, who always has some treasure or other tucked away for me, and words of support for me. He even has a nickname for me - Prince Zed." Zagreus grins a little at the memory of the chipper voice calling him over. "And he does all of this for me, no matter how hard the Furies punish him, no matter how eternal his punishment seemed to be. He and Bouldy have been a great help through my many, many escape attempts through Tartarus, so... Sisyphus deserves one."

As he's explaining his connection to Sisyphus, the prince is helping set up the boats, each one with a single candle, except for two boats: the ones bearing the candles for Orpheus and Eurydice, and the ones bearing candles for Achilles and Patroclus. Zagreus is carefully trying to get the two-candled boats into the water, leaving Persephone to fill the last few. The last candle left without a boat yet simply reads, "pappias" - Grandfather.

"May I ask who your candles were for, or would you rather not say? I don't mean to pry, I just... would like to honor them too, if I can."

[springforth]

Persephone, whose only knowledge of Sisyphus has been the word of Thanatos, sits quiet. It's strange to hear him talk about this person who she knows only the worst about. But people do change, perhaps he's right. Perhaps an afterlife of punishment can bring change? She stifles back the fury she's felt, redirects it into her hands as she settles into placing candles into boats, watching him with the sets of coupled candles.

"The two pink and blue ones were for my friends. Melia and Delphine. They were flower nymphs who died when mortals ripped up their bushes to expand their kingdom." Her voice is soft, hands gentle on the candle. There's pain in her voice, but not overwhelming. She's had so much time to mourn them, in little different ways. "They were my first friends, who I created when I made their bushes. And my last words to them weren't kind. I hope they forgive me for it."

And then hesitation. Who she's told about her wrath has been varied. He knows things about her that Ryo doesn't, that Zetta does. Has she told him about this? Honestly, she's not sure. For a long time she was protecting his image of her.

"And the other candle was for the mortals I killed."

[dyingpro]

"Oh Gods, that's awful. I'm so sorry to hear that." Zagreus abandons his boats for the moment to pay attention to Persephone. "Even if your words were spoken in anger, I'm sure Melia and Delphine knew that you loved them. You took the time to grow their bushes and spend time with them. That's more than most nymphs can say about their existence, from what I've heard."

There's a sharp intake of breath as Zagreus hears the last part, a tensing of his whole body, but not much more. Even someone as sweet as Persephone had killed mortals? Before jumping to conclusions, Zagreus releases the breath he didn't realize he was holding, taking a moment of silence to process her words. It doesn't take long for him to scoot closer to her on the bank and sitting down properly next to her.

"What happened?" He asks, honestly, though there's no judgment in it. There's no anger, no despair, no insistence. Just curiosity tinged with sympathy, as his hand reaches out for hers, takes the boat from her and sets it down next to them, and interlocks their fingers.

[springforth]

It is more than most nymphs can boast. But most nymphs don't live less than 18 years. Tree nymphs live hundreds of years. River nymphs even longer. The ocean nymphs--gods, ages. They're not immortal, but death doesn't come quick or fast or easy. You can't just rip the ocean by its roots and destroy a life.

But she doesn't say that. It's true, but not important. She's told this several times now and it's still difficult. Hard to know how to explain in a way that both doesn't excuse her or vilify her more than necessary.

"Well the two events are connected. They died in front of me and so I went in search of the reason. And they didn't--care? I guess. You know mortals, some are reverent and aware of our power and some aren't. And I am just goddess of spring. Flowers. They didn't think they had to listen to me when I tried to enforce our treaty. And I got upset. I'm used to being underestimated but--a bunch of mortals shoving me out of their way and acting like they didn't need to care about who they hurt. There's gods for everything now, one measly minor goddess is nothing." Persephone pokes at the candle, needing something to do with herself while she talks. There's a pause as she gathers up her thoughts.

"I mean--have you ever been so angry, so furious, that it was all there was room for in your head?" She turns to look at him, eyes catching his gaze as she speaks, "And you moved, you acted, you did things without really thinking about them, because you couldn't help it? Sometimes it feels like it was someone else in my body, moving my hands, my arms, my scythe. But that's not really fair. It's not true. It was me the whole time. I can even still--touch that feeling sometimes. Not often, but sometimes."

[dyingpro]

The only nymphs Zagreus knows are the ones he's been told stories about, and the ones who met an untimely end... Eurydice being foremost in his mind.

"You're not just the Goddess of Anything," Zagreus argues, fingers tightening around hers. "You're not just Flowers or Grain or Green Grass, you're Persephone, the Goddess of Spring. Of Verdure. Without you, the mortals can't survive off your bounty, or-- or make ships and houses from trees, or feed their animals, or give birth to new life, animals too! There's a reason the mortals sing of their loved ones as flowers, or of their love blossoming out of their chest. It's beautiful. Your domain is beautiful." His love for Spring only grows more and more with each scent of a blossom, of each rainbow garden, of each wildflower patch and fresh fruit and crisp vegetable. And it's only grown stronger in the six months he's been on the Train.

But he does his best to listen to why she'd done it, and he clenches his jaw at the way the mortals had treated Persephone. Zagreus presses his forehead against her temple as a small measure of comfort. "I'm sorry you were treated like that. Most of the Gods I know would have smote them right then and there. But you... you tried to reason with them, didn't you? You only tried to give them a second chance." He pulls back only to look at her, make sure he's not completely misreading the situation. "They broke a sacred pact with the Gods, Sephe. Nemesis would have taken them for their hubris if you hadn't stopped them. Or maybe the Olympians would have stepped in." It's less a cold blooded murder in the prince's opinion, and more a self defense, a counter to the mortals' declaration of war on their territory. It's not wholly Persephone's guilt to bear.

"Well sure I have. When we first met. When I thought you were impersonating my Mother." It's not a moment he's proud of, but it happened, and it was a real furor. "It was honestly a relief that I didn't attack you, then. It's not a feeling I have often either, but... I don't like it when it does surface. When it does cloud over my vision like that." He swallows hard against the sudden lump in his throat, thinking back on the time he almost lost control, almost killed someone when the illusions disguised him as Lord Hades himself. How the illusion of Ares smiled.

Speaking of Ares, Zagreus clears his throat, trying to make the lump go away, with middling success. "I feel it sometimes, too, when Lord Cousin Ares' power flows through me. Especially if I obtain several of his boons in one escape attempt."

[springforth]

It never gets easier, hearing others espouse her importance, her abilities. Persephone is no Aphrodite, to bask in the worship and importance granted by the people around her. But it feels nice, a little, to know others see her this way. Even if it doesn't really touch at why she feels so unimportant, why she wants to be more, it's kind and thoughtful and sweet.

"The Olympians were never going to step in for some mortals killing some flower nymphs." Persephone says, a hint of bitterness to her words before she catches herself, "And I ended up killing more mortals than I intended, innocent, when my powers flew out of control. I wouldn't be quite so torn up about it if it was just three mortals who--who killed my friends. Upset, angry with myself but--less guilt. I think. I don't know, I can't really know how I would feel. I freaked out in the moment, lost control. So I'll never know."

As he keeps speaking, she remembers that fury, that fire in his eyes at her. The anger that she thinks about sometimes, when her own bubbles up. Some proof in her heart that this man is a child of her own, in some other realm. More like her than she admits. Rage bubbling up for those they care about, those they love, like fire in their veins. And Ares--gods, she hasn't thought about him in so long.

"Oh, Ares loved my wrath, I think. Not that he knew about what I did in the mortal realm but--unsurprisingly, other people inspired wrath. War." She doesn't specify but she's not sure she needs to. He knows more than she wanted him to, but it does mean not having to repeat herself, "He--He can inspire wrath and anger in my world as well."

[dyingpro]

"But for breaching an oath with Demeter herself? For encroaching on her lands? They wouldn't be punished specifically for killing your friends, maybe, but... Lord Uncle Zeus in my world wouldn't dare risk incurring Lady Demeter's wrath by staying silent." Zagreus never expected Zeus to be overly friendly to Persephone, but the way she talks about him... the bitterness is telling. He frowns, brow furrowing, more important matters coming that shelve that topic for now. "Oh Gods, that's... I'm sorry you had to deal with losing control of your powers like that. To see them hurt innocent people must have been horrifying. And you've been harboring these feelings inside you this whole time?"

The prince squeezes her hands, then thinks that's not good enough, and carefully releases his grip so he can slowly wrap his arms around her, and draw her into a hug. He rubs gently at her back to reassure her as he speaks. "It's good that you remembered them, here. That despite the tragedy, that you accepted your mistake and chose to honor them instead of forget them. It's very mature of you, you know. I think I could learn a thing or two about that from you, if I'm honest." It's an attempt at a joke, despite the somberness of the moment.

He draws away from her after a moment, listening to her... suddenly talk about Ares as if they were friends? It draws a surprised eyebrow from Zagreus, though he doesn't ask any of the multitude of questions that suddenly spring to mind. Instead, he tries to relate to her struggle. "... it was only an illusion, on Kamakan, but I remember the look in Lord Ares' eyes. I, uhm... I'm not proud of it, but I... nearly killed somebody, in one of the fights. The illusions made me think I was fighting Father, and I sort of... snapped. Thankfully Than was there to keep him stable, and the man ended up surviving, but I saw the other Olympians in the crowd, too, and... up until my opponent regained consciousness, Cousin Ares was smiling. The way he usually does when he smells the blood of Wretches and other foul creatures upon me. So I feel like I have a better idea than most about what Lord Ares can do to your head."