hugtopia_logs | Lady's Night Out! Or in, technically.

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Lady's Night Out! Or in, technically.

♥ Who: Lup, Honerva, Pyra, and Era
♥ Where: A... new business!?
♥ When: Tail end of the winter holidays
♥ What: Lady sleepover party, time for drink and gossip
♥ Rating: probably at least PG

In the heart of the entertainment district, closest to where the majority of residents live, a new building has opened up- in theory, that is. There is a sign across that door that reads "opening soon", and the curtains are drawn across the window to hide its contents, but those passing by might catch a glimpse of things here and there. A stack of cups on a table, a spread of colourful fabric, a cat perched in the window, staring back. Hints of what's to come. Today, beneath the existing sign, hangs an extra: "closed for private party".

Attendees of said party will find the interior still very much a work-in-progress, but it has the signs of obvious progress. The business is set up as a cafe, the walls painted warm shades of browns and pinks, cat toys piled in the corner, synthetic trees and shelving along the walls for climbing and exploring. The central area is peppered with blankets and pillows all gathered in a pile, and beneath them a series of connected sofa cushions forming the "mattress". One table is set up as a work station of sorts, with paints and various construction supplies laid out, though for tonight it's mostly abandoned.

Another table is decorated with snacks and dishes, mostly finger food and sweets for easy eating; it all smells delightful, with varying recipes to indicate that the chef has been experimenting on which to choose. Many of them are decorated with animal motifs: cut-out cookies in mammal shapes, tarts with icing whiskers, cat-eared quiche. The coffee drinks too will have simple shapes drawn into the foam when ordered. The alcoholic drinks will probably not, but they're smooth and cold and are made for fun more than aesthetic, anyway. A variation of old-school or modern pop style music plays quietly from wall-mounted speakers, loud enough to be heard but not overwhelm. Two cats wander about the premises, introduced to the party-goers for those not in the know as Ditto and Kova. They're friendly, but be gentle!

Before things get going, Lup lays down a few ground rules:
1) respect the animals, and do not feed them!
2) respect the other people here and definitely feed them
3) if you make a mess tell her, that's what magic is for
4) have a good time, yes this is a rule
5) profit? maybe? you get paid for cuddles here, get drunk and go nuts

Let's go, girls! Time for some R&R fun.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[so lit

Lup hums idly, closing her eyes and subtly leaning into it. Already it feels nice.]

How about... seven.

[ ........That's a lot. But she'll do her best. ]

A tall order! [ Pyra begins by dividing her hair into equal parts, giggling. ]

They're all going to be the same type, is that okay?

Doesn't bother me. I just like how they fan out in the morning.

[The joys of having thick hair.]

[ Aaaaand she gets to work. As she works, she wonders. As she wonders, she feels the need to ask: ]

Seven braids... is it symbolic of anything?

[ Cultural? From her world? Or is this just another instance of Lup's whimsy? ]

Hmm... just a little bit.

[She tugs her hoodie down off her shoulders, just enough to reveal glimpses of black on her skin behind waves of hair. Should Pyra look more closely, she'll find a tattoo that stretches from one shoulder almost to the other- a set of seven black birds of varying sizes and arrangement, flying along her right shoulder blade, soaring towards (or rather, chasing after) an orb of white light near her neck.]

[ ~~oh la la~~ Oh-- birds in flight, flying after...

She squints. With her mind a addled from drink, her interpretation is nothing impressive: ]

Geese... flying westward....? [ Towards a sun? ]

[Lup laughs at that, not unkindly. That one, she hasn't heard.]

They could be geese! Not the most fashionable of birds, but very annoying, which is appropriate.

[She's pretty sure Voreman John would agree if someone asked.]

I heard this story from a ghost, once, and I really liked it. "I saw all of existence, all at once. I saw a dark storm, a living hunger eating it from within. But I saw a brilliant light heralded by seven birds, flying tirelessly from the storm. I saw seven birds."

[ Her hair-braiding slows as Lup recites the poem....... She is too tipsy for this. ]

That sounds.... Oh, that sounds like a prophecy! [ And very hopeful, as if she has hope itself tattooed upon her back. Excitedly, she resumes braiding. ]

Well, is there anything else to it? Have the birds brought their light yet?!

I think it's more of a cautionary tale than a prophecy. They don't bring the light, they chase it- they're racing the Hunger for it. If they win, they're heroes, but if they lose, they'll be consumed.

[ They're racing the hunger for it.... That makes it sound as if these heroes are racing the Hunger going to eat the light, too. She is 100% sure this is the wrong interpretation, though. ]

.........This Hunger... doesn't sound... good.

[ To put it lightly. Pyra clears her throat. ] Is it something from your world?

[ But also, can it come here. ]

Not from my world, no. But it came by to visit.

[Feeling awfully famished, too.]

[ Her braiding stops for a moment, then resumes. ]

This... Hunger....

What does it do to a world, exactly?

Mmm... usually? Swallows it all up, yum.

[Her tone is very carefully neutral, like it hardly matters at all. And it doesn't, not really. She'd left very little behind.]

[ Lup may be neutral with that tone, but Pyra here has had a couple drinks and is definitely not.

”Yum”?! ]

Lup...! That’s nothing to joke about!

[ Her eyes widen, and she stops braiding again. At this rate, her hair of seven braids isn’t ever going to finish.

As she thinks about this further, she feels a graver sense of dread build. If this Hunger had visited her world, then.... She draws a breath. ] ....Is... yours gone...?

Yeah, but it's been gone for a long time. Over a hundred years now. I'm not gonna cry about it.

[Who would she even cry for?]

[ While standing behind her may give Lup no expression of Pyra's to read, her voice remains hushed, as if horrified. ]

I'm... so sorry for your loss, all the same.

[ She resumes her braiding. ]

...I mean, I appreciate it, but I really didn't lose anything. I left that world behind with no one and nothing waiting for me.

[She tilts her head back, trying to get a look at Pyra, though it's hard from this angle.]

A lot of people are gone, and of course that's bad. But it's nothing personal for me.

[ That’s nice, Lup. Pyra is a mess, eyes already misting with tears. Whether for Lup who smiles even now or for her lost world, it seems she’s just that empathetic.

One doubt emerges: perhaps this is the wrong response to cry, feel emotions? But wouldn’t anyone feel bad upon hearing this— and worse yet, that it is “nothing personal” to her? She doesn’t know. It seems that losing a homeworld should be personal. Lup must have had another family in that world at one point. Her brother, perhaps parents, cousins, maybe a mentor; and if not people then places where she grew up. Is that not important? Or... is Lup suggesting it is not worthy of being personal, significant? Yet for all of it to be gone...

It’s a little too much.

I’m not gonna cry about it. Pyra definitely will, and mourn this great loss of life. What a terrible thing, this Hunger that destroys worlds. ] What will you do, then?

[ ~~TL;DR weh~~ ]

[Oh, honey. It's tempting to remind Pyra that she's assumed to be dead, but that would be mean, and not entirely accurate. So instead she lifts a hand and gently pats at the woman's cheek, offering an upside-down smile.]

What else is there to do? Find a new world to park myself, get some revenge. [She pauses, and something in her eyes softens a little, subtly. Blink and you'll miss it.] Thanks, though.

[She may not have any more tears to be spared for her lost world, but at least someone does. The others might have appreciated it. Dav, for sure.]

[ Who would be fine with having their home taken or destroyed? Very few, she imagines, and although Lup isn’t in tears like Pyra is, she catches that softness in her eyes. There is something there, making her wonder further: perhaps instead of some overwhelming sorrow, Lup is... empowered by it? Encouraged by it? She smiles, she seems determined, and...

It must the mark of wisdom to endure and remain so resilient like that, she thinks, or perhaps she’s already done her fair share of mourning the past and has moved on. Whatever it is, Lup is not defeated by it, crushed by despair, and that is the most important part.

Pyra knows she can become emotional, even for people she doesn’t know at all. The love she has for others is too great. Yet she feels a bit silly right now and entirely ungraceful compared to Lup. This is a good time to remind herself that maybe she’s being the unreasonable one. Pyra manages a smile, comforted by Lup’s steadfastness. ]

Ah... I’m sorry, I’m sorry. [ For crying and getting emotional, making things awkward, she knows she shouldn’t feel! She shakes her head again, wiping away a wayward tear. Pyra appears to be recovering quickly; no blubbering waterworks here! ] No one is asking you to be strong, are they? But it’s... as if you’re doing this yourself, it’s all coming from here. [ Here, she says, and she taps her own chest as if to symbolize the heart within. ]

You’re so.... brave....

[ Brave as one of those seven that fly towards the light to beat the Hunger, she thinks. Her smile softens; maybe Lup had derived inspiration from their tale. ] Just like those birds.

[Fine is certainly relative, but Lup has also had a hundred and twelve years to adjust to a world she cared very little for to begin with. Her world was never home; it was only ever about potential, long after the fact. A place she could have settled and started a family, if they'd met sooner in life. A shitty land to make less shitty by the people she now knows existed there.

But it's long gone, and Faerun might be home someday, instead. She's okay with that.]

Just like those birds? What an honour.

[That's so adorable Lup's not even going to correct her.]

I don't think it's really about bravery. Any grieving I might've done was a long, long time ago. You know how it goes, time heals all wounds? Live long enough and those old wounds matter a lot less.

[ Time heals all wounds is an idiom that exists in her world. She understands it, but recognizes it as conditional. Time heals wounds for the resilient, for those like Lup who are strong. She may have scars, but she also has a marking of hope upon her skin in the sever birds flying towards that light...

How does she do it, Pyra wonders. How does she remain so strong, how does she continue to have all of that hope to vet one that grief? Is there an easy answer, or is it just time? (And if so, why hasn’t five hundred years been enough?)

Pyra’s eyes drop to the birds again. They continue to fly, possibly, even as the Hunger takes other worlds. Perhaps she’s drawn her inspiration from them... ] Which one of these birds... [ Her fingers trail over them and their path, lightly. ] do you see as yourself the most?

[How, indeed. If Lup ever figures out the real answer, maybe she'll share it.

At the question, Lup reaches over her shoulder, knowing exactly where it is, and taps right above two birds within the set of seven, a synchronized pair in a near-identical pose, with two wings intersecting. Between wings and tail, if you squint, there's almost a heart shape in the space between their bodies.]

Right here.

[ When Lup's hands taps the bird and leaves it, Pyra's own finger goes to that same bird, noting how they appear identical with the heart cherished in between. She wonders of their story, if the heart is there to show friendship, that of lovers, or of family. Perhaps they're also the same person, of one heart. She does not know...

She only knows that it is a story of seven flying from the Hunger, of which Lup knows its wrath. The birds, according to that psalm, are tireless. They have not given up, they are heroes, inspiring, and their story must have kept Lup going in part-- or so she would say, if Lup did not seem already so resilient on her own...

But if, if this hero is significant to Lup, she wishes to honor it as well.

Softly, she asks: ] May I kiss this one?

[what

whaaaaaaaat

Lup scoffs a light, disbelieving laugh, not offended but not sure if she heard that right, even with those big ears of hers.]

You want to kiss my tattoo?

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