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coldsongUnder the walls we gnaw like mice
Virtue is unmasked
The hands of the clock betray your vice
They give what none has asked.
For they have burrowed beneath the graves
and found what the good gave most:
Refuse cast by the righteous waves
In fossil, wraith, and ghost.
V. Watkins, Ballad of the Mari Lwyd
Does the Nexus remember the Mari Lwyd, or the four giggling children that led her through the streets last year? This year, she is decked out in even more fantastic ribbons, skull painted with colors and glitter, with a mane of braided greenery over the shroud that hides her puppeteer. Peeping out from the tangles of plaited evergreen are bright loops and shimmering clusters of ice crystals--frost flowers, but enchanted to hold together in a way that this phenomenon never does in its natural state. All in all, the Mari is more grand and glamorous than before; a higher bar is set.
The children, like their horse, are in bright colors and jangling bells, and the girls have multicolored ribbons in their hair. They know exactly what they are doing, after the playful run last season. They sing loudly at the door of each house they approach, demanding to be let in and fed in the name of the Horse of a Thousand Stars. Loki is nowhere to be seen, but surely someone is beneath that colorful shroud, making the head bow, the glass eyes roll, the skeletal jaws snap and dart at any who stray too close.
(It would be rude to peep beneath the cloth, but if you do, you will see nothing but shadow, and hear the echoing laughter of a god.)
Those who are kind enough to let the children in will get chased about in their own homes--in play, of course--and the horse will caper and threaten as before, until Agnarr or Sigrid takes the ribbon bridle in hand and guides her back into the snow. Behind them, the children will leave oranges, apples, nuts, or sprigs of evergreen tied with glittery cords and bows.
Locked-out lepers with haloes come.
Put out the clock; the clock is dumb.
This is, in a way, just a prelude, a warning. A loving parody of the chaos that will ride in the dark nights to come. The Mari is not a tradition of Asgard, but Loki understand the message and the story she tells on a level so deep they may as well be part of his bones. For this one moment in the year, the outcast emerge to claim their own. The lords of misrule oust the righteous, the safe, the comfortable, and take their place for a breath of time. Memento Mori.
In the evening, the children are all bathed and fed and cuddled. Stories are told by the fire as dusk deepens. At length, though, the time for Something Else draws nigh. Loki tucks a sprig of mistletoe behind the ear of each of his little girls, and takes them by the hands. Una is old enough this year.
Transforming as they leave the house for the meadow, Loki stands ghostly-still in a white dress, evergreens wound into her hair. For about half an hour, she sings short kulning calls and cries for the girls, letting them imitate and praising their efforts. Sigrid is very good. Una is excited and eager, but her attention span is more limited, and when she shows signs of wanting to go play in the snow, Loki calls the lesson closed for today. She herself sings the ghostly call that invites the Hunt to her side. And then she kisses the girls on the cheek and sends them inside to sleep.
This is about to be no place for children.
As before, Loki cannot allow herself emotion for this event, in which anyone caught outside is at risk of an unfortunate experience. She casts the same spell as before, with some regret. She will recognize no one except Thor, and whatever actions she takes for the sacredness of the season will be utterly impartial.
When the Odensjakt emerges, there's a crack and roar of air displaced, the skies split to permit thousands of shadowy steeds and riders to emerge. Skurge is at their head, and Loki notes with interest that he's not wearing his plate armor this year, only his leather jerkin and a loose cape. Maybe he no longer feels the need of that visual reminder of his status. He's not an ex-soldier or a failed executioner now, but the shepherd of the dead.
"Will you lead this year?" Loki invites him, leaping lightly onto the back of a spectral, red-eyed horse. "Or shall I?"
He looks deeply flattered, and maybe a little tempted, but he shakes his head. "You lead. I'll bring up the rear and keep the formation together."
It would do no good to say so, but Loki is proud.
Skurge takes his place at the back of the Hunt, and gives a sharp, shrill whistle. Then the onslaught begins, the loud chaotic ride through the darkness. They will enter unguarded buildings and turn things upside down like vandals. They will damage and break things left outside in the roads. Unlucky wanderers (or perhaps, some who seek them out deliberately) will be grabbed by icy hands and tumbled through the night with the wild ride.
They circle the Plaza, turning things upside down, and then they ride out into the Wilds like a storm, screaming into the wind from the sheer joy and adrenaline rush of the Hunt.
When the sky turns watery gray overhead, when the sun creeps toward the horizon, they quiet slowly and break apart like clouds. Skurge stays to the last, sitting up on his horse as Loki stands in the snow beside him, Jotun-shaped, all blue and red and white frost.
"I don't think this is exactly how Odin did it," Loki comments quietly as the sun glints off distant tree-tips. "But it feels right. What do you think?"
"Didn't really know him," Skurge says thoughtfully. "But I'm good with this."
"Until tomorrow night, then," Loki smiles up at him.
"Wouldn't miss it," Skurge gives a cheeky grin, and dissolves into the air, back to Hel.
Loki bows, and sings him a brief farewell, only a few high, crystalline calls. And then he turns toward home, and family, and the warmth of his own hearth.
----
((OOC: So, I am bad at keeping up with things, but this is important, so: same deal as last year.
Please feel free to tag in with your character(s) reaction to any of the above. They can encounter the children, they could hear the sounds of the Hunt, or for a more lol-like experience, they could join or be caught up in the Hunt themselves.
Two things should be noted. First: Loki will not recognize any character except Thor, potentially not even his own alternates. He did that on purpose so his fondness for certain individuals cannot get in the way of what he considers a sacred duty. If you get close to the Hunt, even if you’re on good terms with him and don’t wanna go, you’re coming along. Feel free to yell at him later. He may or may not be remorseful, but probably not.
Second: People who either join the Hunt voluntarily or gain control after being snatched up are essentially invited to participate. Feel free to smash some stuff up, steal food or drink in small amounts, etc. Please assume all vandalized stuff belongs to NPCs not other player characters, unless you have that player's permission! The Hunt’s purpose is not to kill or maim, but to frighten and disrupt. Anyone who gets too personal or otherwise overly enthusiastic risks falling out of synch with the rest of the Hunt. If that happens, the character may be yeeted out of the group and find themselves in a corner of the Plaza or Wilds they didn’t start out in.
For each tag-in, I will respond with at least one prose-heavy tag (maybe more, depending on time or inspiration) detailing what the character is likely to have seen, felt, or experienced in the Hunt or during the visit with the hooden horse. It is also okay with me to handwave that your character observed/got caught up in this, as long as rules of the Nexus comm are respected.
Additionally, if you want some crazy shit that is not Nexus canon, PM me and we can talk it out. I can't promise anything because I'm constantly behind on all my threads these days, but I'm willing to talk it over!))
Virtue is unmasked
The hands of the clock betray your vice
They give what none has asked.
For they have burrowed beneath the graves
and found what the good gave most:
Refuse cast by the righteous waves
In fossil, wraith, and ghost.
V. Watkins, Ballad of the Mari Lwyd
Does the Nexus remember the Mari Lwyd, or the four giggling children that led her through the streets last year? This year, she is decked out in even more fantastic ribbons, skull painted with colors and glitter, with a mane of braided greenery over the shroud that hides her puppeteer. Peeping out from the tangles of plaited evergreen are bright loops and shimmering clusters of ice crystals--frost flowers, but enchanted to hold together in a way that this phenomenon never does in its natural state. All in all, the Mari is more grand and glamorous than before; a higher bar is set.
The children, like their horse, are in bright colors and jangling bells, and the girls have multicolored ribbons in their hair. They know exactly what they are doing, after the playful run last season. They sing loudly at the door of each house they approach, demanding to be let in and fed in the name of the Horse of a Thousand Stars. Loki is nowhere to be seen, but surely someone is beneath that colorful shroud, making the head bow, the glass eyes roll, the skeletal jaws snap and dart at any who stray too close.
(It would be rude to peep beneath the cloth, but if you do, you will see nothing but shadow, and hear the echoing laughter of a god.)
Those who are kind enough to let the children in will get chased about in their own homes--in play, of course--and the horse will caper and threaten as before, until Agnarr or Sigrid takes the ribbon bridle in hand and guides her back into the snow. Behind them, the children will leave oranges, apples, nuts, or sprigs of evergreen tied with glittery cords and bows.
Locked-out lepers with haloes come.
Put out the clock; the clock is dumb.
This is, in a way, just a prelude, a warning. A loving parody of the chaos that will ride in the dark nights to come. The Mari is not a tradition of Asgard, but Loki understand the message and the story she tells on a level so deep they may as well be part of his bones. For this one moment in the year, the outcast emerge to claim their own. The lords of misrule oust the righteous, the safe, the comfortable, and take their place for a breath of time. Memento Mori.
In the evening, the children are all bathed and fed and cuddled. Stories are told by the fire as dusk deepens. At length, though, the time for Something Else draws nigh. Loki tucks a sprig of mistletoe behind the ear of each of his little girls, and takes them by the hands. Una is old enough this year.
Transforming as they leave the house for the meadow, Loki stands ghostly-still in a white dress, evergreens wound into her hair. For about half an hour, she sings short kulning calls and cries for the girls, letting them imitate and praising their efforts. Sigrid is very good. Una is excited and eager, but her attention span is more limited, and when she shows signs of wanting to go play in the snow, Loki calls the lesson closed for today. She herself sings the ghostly call that invites the Hunt to her side. And then she kisses the girls on the cheek and sends them inside to sleep.
This is about to be no place for children.
As before, Loki cannot allow herself emotion for this event, in which anyone caught outside is at risk of an unfortunate experience. She casts the same spell as before, with some regret. She will recognize no one except Thor, and whatever actions she takes for the sacredness of the season will be utterly impartial.
When the Odensjakt emerges, there's a crack and roar of air displaced, the skies split to permit thousands of shadowy steeds and riders to emerge. Skurge is at their head, and Loki notes with interest that he's not wearing his plate armor this year, only his leather jerkin and a loose cape. Maybe he no longer feels the need of that visual reminder of his status. He's not an ex-soldier or a failed executioner now, but the shepherd of the dead.
"Will you lead this year?" Loki invites him, leaping lightly onto the back of a spectral, red-eyed horse. "Or shall I?"
He looks deeply flattered, and maybe a little tempted, but he shakes his head. "You lead. I'll bring up the rear and keep the formation together."
It would do no good to say so, but Loki is proud.
Skurge takes his place at the back of the Hunt, and gives a sharp, shrill whistle. Then the onslaught begins, the loud chaotic ride through the darkness. They will enter unguarded buildings and turn things upside down like vandals. They will damage and break things left outside in the roads. Unlucky wanderers (or perhaps, some who seek them out deliberately) will be grabbed by icy hands and tumbled through the night with the wild ride.
They circle the Plaza, turning things upside down, and then they ride out into the Wilds like a storm, screaming into the wind from the sheer joy and adrenaline rush of the Hunt.
When the sky turns watery gray overhead, when the sun creeps toward the horizon, they quiet slowly and break apart like clouds. Skurge stays to the last, sitting up on his horse as Loki stands in the snow beside him, Jotun-shaped, all blue and red and white frost.
"I don't think this is exactly how Odin did it," Loki comments quietly as the sun glints off distant tree-tips. "But it feels right. What do you think?"
"Didn't really know him," Skurge says thoughtfully. "But I'm good with this."
"Until tomorrow night, then," Loki smiles up at him.
"Wouldn't miss it," Skurge gives a cheeky grin, and dissolves into the air, back to Hel.
Loki bows, and sings him a brief farewell, only a few high, crystalline calls. And then he turns toward home, and family, and the warmth of his own hearth.
----
((OOC: So, I am bad at keeping up with things, but this is important, so: same deal as last year.
Please feel free to tag in with your character(s) reaction to any of the above. They can encounter the children, they could hear the sounds of the Hunt, or for a more lol-like experience, they could join or be caught up in the Hunt themselves.
Two things should be noted. First: Loki will not recognize any character except Thor, potentially not even his own alternates. He did that on purpose so his fondness for certain individuals cannot get in the way of what he considers a sacred duty. If you get close to the Hunt, even if you’re on good terms with him and don’t wanna go, you’re coming along. Feel free to yell at him later. He may or may not be remorseful, but probably not.
Second: People who either join the Hunt voluntarily or gain control after being snatched up are essentially invited to participate. Feel free to smash some stuff up, steal food or drink in small amounts, etc. Please assume all vandalized stuff belongs to NPCs not other player characters, unless you have that player's permission! The Hunt’s purpose is not to kill or maim, but to frighten and disrupt. Anyone who gets too personal or otherwise overly enthusiastic risks falling out of synch with the rest of the Hunt. If that happens, the character may be yeeted out of the group and find themselves in a corner of the Plaza or Wilds they didn’t start out in.
For each tag-in, I will respond with at least one prose-heavy tag (maybe more, depending on time or inspiration) detailing what the character is likely to have seen, felt, or experienced in the Hunt or during the visit with the hooden horse. It is also okay with me to handwave that your character observed/got caught up in this, as long as rules of the Nexus comm are respected.
Additionally, if you want some crazy shit that is not Nexus canon, PM me and we can talk it out. I can't promise anything because I'm constantly behind on all my threads these days, but I'm willing to talk it over!))
(no subject)
Date: 2021-01-31 06:09 am (UTC)"I'll keep that in mind," Ravage says quietly. "I thought he'd sold the place off, not turned it over to me."
Megatron sighs. "Everything was kind of a blur at the end of the war. It was easier to put things in your name than it was to try and find someone who'd buy them and sell them back to me, or even just to buy them. Why does Soundwave care that we owned a house?"
Ravage rolls his eyes. "Because he and I never did? He's a communard. Technically, we still don't. We live on his bases, and he turned our house here into an Embassy, which was a smart strategic move, but while we have a little building that's ours, we still fuel in the refectory." Then he smiles at Loki. "I'll let you know if I need assistance. Also if you've borrowed anything of mine that I left behind, you can have it, particularly if there's any reason I might not want it back. Certainly nothing of Megatron's would fit you; some of my old things from when I was Glit's size just might."
He glances back and forth between them. "And yes. Wards and illusions should both be arranged. I am quite certain that the DJD is not prepared for anything whatsoever like you, Loki, but I am also quite certain that the DJD is not something you would enjoy having to handle. They're the secret police he trained when he was at max psychotic paranoia and they're evil fraggers and I don't know what the fuck we're going to do with them."
(no subject)
Date: 2021-02-09 05:10 pm (UTC)Case in point, when Ravage mentions borrowing anything of his, Loki gives a smirk, and then a sputter of laughter. "Well, we haven't been doing anything dirty with your things, if that's what you mean! I have borrowed a scarf of yours as a sort of...blanket-hammock hybrid, but only to sleep. I'll keep it, since you've offered, and replace it with something pretty--but with only platonic significance--next time I go shopping."
Although now he's very curious about what other old things Ravage might be referring to. Not that he needs hand-me-downs, but he's still learning about these beings and their culture, and clothing and ornamentation is very much a part of that process.
Loki takes a soft breath and lets it out in a thoughtful hiss, then. "I had better develop an illusion to look like one of you, then, I suppose. Er...perhaps not an exact copy; that could lead to misunderstandings, but...damn. Your senses are far greater than an organic person's, as well. That's going to take work to get around."
Yeah. It will. But judging from the glimmer in his eyes, he's a bit excited by the challenge.
Belatedly, he adds, "I would like to know more about this DJD as well, but if it's not a discussion for a celebratory occasion, perhaps a rain check is in order."
(no subject)
Date: 2021-02-10 04:51 pm (UTC)"In Megatron's defence, I think it makes a difference that Megatron and I weren't exactly the sort of people who could safely rent a hotel suite for that sort of thing. It wasn't a 'here we will stay together and adopt sparklings and entertain family and friends' kind of house purchase. It was more of a safehouse, although of course we had romantic moments there, and there were times I thought about taking Soundwave back there, but we never had the chance. We didn't keep it from Soundwave deliberately."
"Thank you," Megatron says with a little nod. "And I think he hoped to spare you explaining the scarf, my love," he tells Loki, and then, with a devilish little smile: "Don't worry, parvilla, it wasn't one we left on the bedpost. I do have some sense of decorum, I put those away before I ever brought Loki there."
Ravage feigns swatting him; Megatron takes his paw and kisses it lightly.
"I look forward to seeing this illusion," Ravage says, glad that his black paint job hides any colour that might have risen to his cheeks.
"Loki will be the prettiest Cybertronian," Megatron says, with considerable pride.
"Of course he will," Ravage agrees, "and Loki, given what else you have managed with magic, I have no doubt you are equal to the challenge. But you are quite right that the DJD is not a subject for polite holiday conversation. Especially not when there are children about."
(no subject)
Date: 2021-02-12 10:29 pm (UTC)Now, he feels he has permission, at least in this instance.
He jabs a playful elbow at the plating on Megatron's flank, at the tease. There's a light thunk of contact, but Loki appears to know how hard he can hit a nigh-immovable object without injuring himself. "Or maybe he was trying to keep you from making things sound more salacious than they are."
"I'll buy my own scarves for the bedposts," he adds archly, and there is every chance he means to follow through on that.
For whatever reason, the mutual agreement that he'll make a pretty Cybertronian is what makes him blush this time. "Well, I might need feedback as I work on it, but thank you. And...yes, I understand. I'll ask another time."
(no subject)
Date: 2021-02-13 06:34 pm (UTC)Megatron laughs softly and slides an arm around Loki's waist.
"Salacious is his default setting," Ravage says with a chuckle. "Except around your children, or on the Lost Light. You'd hardly recognise him there, he's so proper and upright."
Megatron shrugs. "Autobots--other than me, anyway--have odd standards of what's appropriate. I'm just trying not to violate any of them."
"I'm still allowed to find it hilarious that you're doing a better job than I would ever have thought possible," Ravage says lightly. "The fox actually thinks that you're almost as upright and prim as he is after House of Ambustus conditioning followed by all those years being the Ultra Magnus. How is the fox, anyway?"
"Still hasn't told me he is one," Megatron replies quietly, "and I hope you don't call him that in front of your people, or you really are going to do it in public some day."
(no subject)
Date: 2021-02-18 04:23 pm (UTC)He perks up subtly at the mention of a garden, which...is probably a sign that he hasn't been outside this house much. Most of his time there has, in fact, been spent in the bedroom. "I'm not very good with plants, but perhaps I'll take a look and see what I can resurrect. I do like flowers."
His lips quirk into a smirk at the comment about Megatron's default setting. He definitely does not disagree with that analysis. It may be one of the things that attracts him to Megatron, really. The talk of 'the fox' does sober him, though--not because of jealousy, though.
"You know, I'm already aware of that particular secret, but if I were not, it would take some explaining. I'm not sure I fully understand your culture with respect to alt forms. Is that..." he searches for words. "Is is acceptable, in general, to refer to someone regarding their form like that?"
He doesn't want to criticize; it's not his place, but he can only relate this to human or Asgardian terms and it strikes him a bit like outing someone without their permission. On the other hand, Ravage is probably the person in the room with the most right to comment on Minimus Ambus. Loki's never even met him. He just wants to understand, in case he ever does.
(no subject)
Date: 2021-02-20 02:26 am (UTC)Loki's next question might however provoke a prick of guilt in Ravage's spark. Just not a very big one.
"Absolutely not," Ravage and Megatron both say in unison.
"That's why I wish you'd stop," says Megatron, frowning.
Ravage breathes out slowly. "I would never say it in public, no matter what you think. I won't betray another filthy animal like that. Even if he is the younger brother of the mech who created the legally accepted test for beastformer intelligence, which I failed the first time it was administered to me because one of his fellow Senators was abusing me and intended that I shouldn't pass. And even if he did spend millions of years propping up the exact government that oppressed me and my kind, as well as his own, while hiding his true nature from everyone else. I'm absolutely certain that being so unable to accept himself he can't even acknowledge your flirtations is a sign that his life has been a great misery. I'm also sure that none of his lovers have ever had to purchase him from his abuser, and that he was never once threatened with deactivation if his lover was unable to come up with the money."
"Ravage, I am not sure he has ever had any lovers." Megatron sighs, because he well understands Ravage's bitterness. But.
"Good," Ravage says coolly. "If he isn't going to be with you, I wish him the cold bed he deserves."
Megatron frowns. "You had the chance to tell him how you felt about these things. I wish you had."
"If he won't listen to you...he certainly won't listen to me. I am not what his kind of person considers 'a credit to my alt-mode'." Ravage frowns. "I'm sorry, Loki. This may not be holiday conversation, either."