{ ORP } The Monument

[Zoobey]

It was simply a large stone slab right in the center of what was considered prime territory.

This was Halloween's gift to the Lost Clan, this was what they thought was supposed to be a consolation a condolence for losing their entire clan.

It was a slab of stone. It had no writing, no words, no culture, no life, not even the barest hints of what it was supposed to represent. It was plain, bare, boring. It was insulting.

For the longest time, the monument remained untouched, Clans members even speculating its immediate removal. And then, one morning, there was something else. Flowers, white braided flowers with the lightest hint of yellow, soft and fragrant, covering the base of the gifted memorial. The next morning following, several other strange ornaments adorning it: a Conquest jade ornament, simple beaded jewelry reminiscent of Death jewelcrafting style, a dried bone-and-feather necklace from War.

The monument was not being destroyed, it was being remade. It was being brought to life, like the earth around it, in a spirit only those who had been part of the Four Clans could understand.

OOC: DECORATING THE MONUMENT

- All Four Clans members can now create a small "tribute" for the monument to put on. Simply draw/ design/ colour/ rp out what they are tributing and then write it out below
- Anyone who does so will also get a +2 bonus rp points on top of the +1 for going over 800 words!
- This is another CLOSURE rp, but also a way for the Lost Clan to express themselves and address their own way to bring closure

 

[santime]

When Eisheth first noticed the monument it made no other impression on her than being entirely disgusting. The gift from Halloween society was supposed to commemorate the glory of the Four Clans and the tragedy of their massacre, but it was nothing, but a solid grey stone. Of course, Eisheth realized she's no expert in this matter: all the things she had done with her own hands were always practical, they had a simple purpose, and she had absolutely no idea how a perfect monument should look like, but she was positive, it wouldn't look like.. like this. Perhaps, it was a job suitable for Conquest Artisans or Death jewelcrafters.

But one morning, a couple of days ago, everything changed: passing near the stone the alchemist noticed flowers. White flowers sprouted around the stone: it didn't make the so called Monument look more impressive, but... but there was something about it, something Eisheth could neither understand, nor speak out. Something... Was that what those artisans call "beautiful"? Eisheth laughed at herself: a couple of years ago she would laugh her a**, if somebody told her she would describe something as "beautiful". She never believed in a Beauty. But on the other hand, never in her life did she experience such a complex emotion, such a trauma, as the destruction of the entire society she was belonging to. Perhaps.. perhaps, it opened her mind for some further development. Maybe now it was time to learn about this.. "beauty" thing.

Eisheth decided to come back next morning to examine the monument more carefully: she definitely needed to understand how this "beauty" works! What exactly is beautiful? What sort of things exactly cause emotions and feelings without directly affecting you? What should one do to achieve this effect? With the practical and logical mind of hers, she was trying to examine and describe arts and beauty in some coherent terms.

However, the next morning prepared a surprise for her. Several strange yet recognizable ornaments appeared across the stone: the jade pattern referred to Conquest traditional design; the jewelry was clearly a work of Death craftsmen, and a small bone and feather necklace resembled the clothes of War horsemen. So... looks like somebody was thinking alike, and horsemen decided to put their efforts into the monument. At least, now it has something to do with the Four Clans: it wasn't the monument to their glory and power, but more of a souvenir, a sign to remember their origin, their past. It was a place to keep the memory.

But there was something wrong about it, and Eisheth tried hard to realize what. Something was missing... something very important.

Eureka!!!

Oh Queen! There was nothing, absolutely nothing in the monument reminding of Famine. Was that even possible? Why would they forget Famine, the best of the Four Clans? And then the alchemist realized: the artwork was done by clan members themselves; they simply wanted to the monument to keep the memory of their clans, and Famine... it's true that Famine was probably the most practical, the most rational of them all. But does it mean they do not deserve a little respect, they do not deserve some commemoration as well? Nobody is going to create some traditional famine ornaments for them. They should do it themselves. "No", decided Eisheth. "I can't let the memory of Famine fade away. We should have something... to remember, as well".

For the next few days Eisheth was trying her best to create the design that would refer to the Famine best. First, she wanted to create something using Alchemy, but what could that be? A ward stone? A Plant? Well, perhaps, a plant will make a monument more lively, but, unfortunately, the connection with Famine wouldn't be that obvious.... Finally she decided to use the longest on her own golden beads, decorated with a few little minipet skulls from her personal collection and big, soft kerchief (she had to steal it from her Elnin, but well, it was worth it). Finally, in the evening, taking care of going unnoticed, Eisheth sneaked to the monument, and adorned it with her creation. The alchemist took a few steps back examining her work. She had absolutely no sense of taste when it comes to arts, though, at least she could say the monument looks more complete.

Funny enough, but the monument wasn't removed (Eisheth heard such suggestions, and was quite ready to agree). It was renewed: somehow the monument now resembled the natural struggle of her homeland, though Eisheth, life was sprouting, breaking through the slab stone, like the crops are breaking through the unfriendly landscape. May be that's how it was intended to work, in the first place.

Returning home, the alchemist felt a strange, unusual satisfaction. Eisheth still had no idea how the "beauty" and "art" work in general, but she managed to learn that a simple artwork done in the right time might very well cause pride, satisfaction, and.. sadness, mixed together in a very complicated way.  

[Syusaki]

Jay hadn’t noticed it at first. It was so insignificant and grey; the simple slab of stone hadn’t even registered on her radar. Only when she found herself bored and flopping on the bright green grass did she realize something was awry with the plot of land. There was something unusual up ahead. She rolled in the grass until she was on her stomach and propped up her head with an arm. It was a hunk of rock and she didn’t know what to make of it. Her legs swung back and forth as she stared at the thing. What was something so drab and dull planted in the middle of such a great plot of land?

Her cheeks puffed out ever so slightly as she stood back up and walked away. A pair of murmuring horsemen passed by her and she looked back curiously. “…monument…” “Condolences? Really…” She watched them cast wary glances to the slab then she returned her gaze to the rock as well. Her mind was empty for a moment, but then wheels began to slowly turn inside until she came to a realization: this was a gift from Halloween for the loss of the clans. A wide-eyed Jay stared at the monument. This? This was it? Her wings ruffled softly while she walked away with a shake of her head. But then one day there were white flowers with a tiniest hint of yellow placed beside the monument. The day after, there were even more tokens. The horsewoman stood in front of the slab of stone with a thoughtful expression. The idea had never occurred to her until now. A slow smile spread to her lips before she turned around to walk into the Weeping Forest.

The forest was so much like home, but she knew it wasn’t. It wasn’t as warm as home and it wasn’t quite as lively as home. When she looked up she could see an endless expansion of trees, but she could never see a myriad of tree houses and hammocks nestled in the branches. This wasn’t home.

She brushed her fingers against the bushes. Jay wandered through the forest until she stumbled upon an area filled with tall grass. The corners of her lips tugged into a smile as she walked through the grass. She knelt down and an arm reached out for the roots. She gently tugged at it until she held a long piece of grass in her hands. Jay grasped the piece in her other hand while she gathered a couple more. She hummed to herself as she plopped down onto the dirt to contemplate what else to gather. The horsewoman opened her palm to stare at the grass. Making jewelry was only a hobby and more so something she did when she grew too bored. The grass would be her string, yes, but what would she decorate it with?

Realizing that standing in a field of grass was not helping her situation, Jay stood up and walked back into the rest of the forest. Twigs cracked as her sandals took her deeper into the land. A flash of red caught her attention. She quietly stepped toward a flowering bush and rubbed the petals between two fingers. It was soft. Jay smiled, plucking a few flowers from the plant. For now, she tucked the flowers behind her ears while she continued to gather her supplies. She found herself whistling a random song as she waltzed through the forest. Her foot kicked away a stray rock and she looked down. It wasn’t the prettiest jewel, but it wasn’t dull and ugly either. She picked up the rock. Heck, Jay even picked up a few other nearby rocks that looked pretty decent too. There wasn’t much in her arms at the moment, but she didn’t want to make a piece of elaborate jewelry. She preferred simplicity, so she began to slowly make her way back to the reserve.

Jay seated herself under a tree, placing her supplies on her lap. She took up a piece of grass first and bent it gently into a circle. The horsewoman mindlessly fiddled with the grass while eyeing the flowers and rocks. Slowly, she reached for a couple more strands of grass and began to braid them together. After a while, she picked up a tiny flower and wrapped the grass around its stem. Jay weaved in another flower and rock before she continued to braid. Then she would add another flower and rock before braiding again. She continued with it until she held a necklace in her hands. Smiling softly, she stood up and brushed bits of grass and petals off of her.

With the necklace dangling in her hands, she proceeded toward the monument. It was still relatively bare, but Jay gently placed the necklace one of the corners of the slab. She took a step back to look at it, nodded, and then walked away.  

[xoxomenai]

Kiwi arched a brow, rubbing his chin between his fingers as he stared to the plain stone slab. A frown curled itself on his face. This, this strange new structure had not been here previous. He half wondered if Medea wasn’t going a bit batty in the belfry again, allowing such a … an odd thing onto the premise.

The Famine horseman flexed his wings a bit agitatedly, turning instead to stare out across the reserve. Things seemed to be livening up around here. Each area was beginning to look a bit like it’s former self … well, at least his own was for certain. The others he could only presume, from what little he had conversed on the subject with his fellow clansmen. Even the center of the reserve itself was beginning to look a bit it’s former self, a mighty Spire rising strong and protective over it’s brethren. The pathways and open areas were bustling too. Clansmen were hard at work, building new structures, tiny houses and little shop booths. In the meantime, several Famine alchemists he vaguely recognized were seated atop finely woven carpets, attempting to peddle what little herbs and tinctures they had to spare. He smiled softly at this, what had seemed warm and distant memories of his homeland now momentarily before him again.

Kiwi paused, and turned again to stare to the … strange monument. It seemed so very empty. All around it, a new life was beginning, and yet, here it sat, void and … meaningless almost. There was very little around it. A ring of white flowers, a few strands of jewels draped almost haphazardly across it. The boil stared to it a moment, fingering the lapel of his satchel with a look of indecision.

At last he made his mind. With a small nod to himself, he bent gently at the base of the stone, pulling from his satchel a small round flask.

It was something he had always carried with him since a small boil: a little round bottle, tied off with a string that held a wooden charm of a small, almost wingless bird; Inside, a golden sand glittered. Every time the other children would bully him for his name, he would wrap his hands around it, and stare at the tiny bird, reciting the story his mother and father told him of his namesake. How strong and brave the small Kiwi bird had been, to give up its most precious talent in order to protect its family …

Kiwi’s fingers trembled as he undid the string, pulling the cork free of the small flask. His breath shook slightly as he let the pale, glittering sand spill over into the flowers. He emptied the bottle’s contents gently around the base of the flowers, patting it evenly atop the soil.

There. Now a small piece of Famine would be with everyone. That was probably the last sand left of Famine … his fingers brushed across it gently, not wanting to leave it quite yet …

Kiwi turned the bottle in his palm, mulling over whether or not to keep the now-empty bottle. It seemed so plain without the pieces of his homeland filling it … Carefully, he unwound the cloth cord from around the rim, freeing the bird charm. He placed the flask itself gently by the base of the monument before tying the charm around his wrist. It meant too much to him to leave behind this little charm. It was a symbol of his birthright, of all the challenges he had faced during his childhood, and … even, the loss of Famine … but he wouldn’t let Famine’s name die. Those Queen-forsaken humans would pay dearly one way or another, for taking their heritage and family from them.

His fingers reached out to brush through the soft sand one last time, before Kiwi stood. It was the dearest thing he could offer to the monument, to the entire Clan and their ancestors. His home was something he cherished beyond measure, and his people too. This was all he had left from home, a small pile of sand scooped up when he was a child, and stored away in a bottle his parents had given him. He held his wrist up, staring to the small bird charm dangling about the cord beneath it. He had become strong enough to earn his name. He wasn’t a child anymore, and he wouldn’t have anyone disgracing him or his clan. His gaze fell back to the monument, then the bustle of the reserve all around him. … He … he couldn’t do anything that day … only watch, helpless, as his home was … The horseman shook his head. No, this was the Clan’s fight now. He wasn’t alone. They had each other, united. Even Amityville, as untrustworthy as they seemed were surprisingly helpful …

He turned to stare once more to the monument. It was still so bare, but surely, like the Clan itself, it too was coming to life. His bangles clicked softly as the boil bowed his head, offering a silent prayer to all his fallen ancestors. A soft smile crossed Kiwi’s lips as he rose upright again, and with a small tilt of his head to the monument the horseman flexed his broken wings before hurrying off across the reserve to lend a hand.  

[revenant aria]

No note, no sign as to who it belonged to.

But extremely recognizable to some. Nothing indicating elsewise to others.  

[Saliru]

After a good long rest Lily approached the monument to present her and her brother's offering.