Sun rises, night falls, sometimes the sky calls...

[demonicbeauty]

Who: Ariadne and various (hit me up if you want a starter!)
What: Ariadne keeping busy and being bad at processing her feelings
When: Throughout January
Where: Various, but mostly Serenity Garden

Content Warnings: Backstory trauma likely to come up, discussion of Jedi/Sith violence, will update as needed.

Comments

For Illarion

[demonicbeauty]

The fact of the matter was that sometimes, trees were easier than people. For one thing, trees didn't kill people. At least, not in most universes, including Ariadne's. For another, trees were much better listeners than people. Part of that was probably because they couldn't talk back. The other part was that they were rooted to the spot and couldn't avoid you and ignore you. And yes, it was a certain Anakin Skywalker that Ariadne found herself comparing (unfavorably) to trees lately.

Ultimately, given the fact that the trees had come with her from Deerington, Ariadne had begun to think of her orchard as the closest thing she had to family. With everything going on around her, more and more, she found herself bundled up in her cloak, walking around the orchard purely to have someone she could share her troubles with.

Of course, it didn't help matters that she'd named all the trees.

Her morning routine was always the same. After washing and getting dressed, she'd go down to the orchard and say good morning to each of them by name. "Good morning, Jane! Good morning, Araceli! Good morning, Tyler!"

They were all her trees and she loved them. But somewhere along the line, she'd decided that her pear tree, Sophia, was the best listener. So when she didn't have pressing matters, she spread out her cloak underneath Sophia's winter branches and shared all of her troubles. Today was one of those days. "Sometimes," she said, a hand on the tree's trunk, looking down into her roots, "I regret not learning to take up the sword. I don't like swords, you know that. But it seems like they've become a kind of language around here. It's really quite horrible."

[unsheathedfromreality]

After he'd spent December hiding lurking in one forest, one would think that Illarion would be sick of trees and ready for a change. One would also be terribly wrong in that, for an elf--whether or not he was also a shrike--would never grow tired of the forest. Though his errand out to Serenity Garden hadn't been about the orchard in the first place, he is of course drawn inevitably that way when he notes (from without the door) that there's no one in the shop. If the proprietor's out in her garden, so much the better; if not, he'll spend a little time examining the orchard and the herbs himself, to see if she's growing what he's looking for so he can arrange a later trade.

But, ah--luck's with him for once and she is there, even if it does sound to his sharp ears like he's intruding on something he's not meant to eavesdrop on. He halts beside the fragrant cinnamon tree, pulling down the hood of his greatcoat to be a little more personable, and remarks, "More horrible if all are speaking that language as their mother tongue, I am thinking. There is always need for those who do not turn first to war."

[demonicbeauty]

She turned at the sound of the voice and was surprised when she saw an Elf that didn't smell like an Elf. Not like the Elves she knew back home, anyway. Still, she couldn't remember the last time she'd seen long, graceful ears. Or felt the familiar thrum of ozone that always seemed present around those native to Valeria.

So her face split into a big smile, her eyes gleaming like coins from a fountain.

Perhaps not one of her Elves. But still an Elf, somehow. It was comforting to think that Humans weren't the only creatures in every single corner of the multiverse.

"I agree," she said, pulling her hood down, off of her hair. "I wish everyone saw it that way."

apologies for bein a tatertot!! month's been disrupted by quals

[unsheathedfromreality]

Nephele's elves had lived for a long time in the shadow of their own extinction. Even dead and hollowed out as he was, Illarion couldn't help but feel a presentiment of that grim future in a world populated mostly by humans, and mostly by humans who'd come from worlds without any other kind of thinking being in them.

Finding someone else, anyone else who wasn't one felt like a spot of unexpected hope in the gloom. And this woman certainly was not human, Illarion noted, as she turned toward him and he could better perceive the differences in her. That, and her reply, brought a small involuntary smile to his lips.

"White gods and stars lead all to think so. There is need for more peace and beauty even in this world, for all we must fend off beasts and monsters.

"Though your orchard, this already does much to brighten minds and hearts. I am already an admirer."

For Ezra

[demonicbeauty]

Since Ariadne's trees were her pride and joy, she was always excited to show them off. It was, she imagined, the same kind of thrill as a noble might get, showing off a grand, new palace that they had finally finished building. A chance to show the world who they were and what riches they possessed. She knew, of course, that her trees weren't silver or gold or stained glass. But they were beautiful. And magical. And had survived all of the terrors of Deerington, just like Ariadne herself.

So yes, she was excited to have Ezra over.

It boggled the mind a little, how often she was drawn to the Jedi and the Sith. She was beginning to think it was no accident. It was some kind of destiny--if you believed in such a thing. In any case, she liked Ezra a lot. They had some kind of kinship, which was very rare for Ariadne, being the only one of her kind and all.

All that to say, she was excited to know he would be visiting.

She spent most of the morning--as she spent every morning--clearing away the fresh snow in the orchard, checking to make sure none of the branches were damaged, and otherwise just having a very lively (albeit one-sided) conversation with her fruit trees. "I can't wait until the spring," she said to Jane, her nectarine tree, as she brushed snow off of the trunk. "I've really been in the mood for nectarines."

Re: For Ezra

[ezra_of_lothal]

Ezra was much more likely to impressed by living things than gold.

And he is visibly impressed, as he looks around. Even in just the few days he's been here, he's gotten some idea of how hard it is cultivate things in Deer Country. "Did you grow all this, or was it already here?

[demonicbeauty]

"Neither," she said, giving the tree a final, loving pat. "It's a kind of complicated story but...the trees were a gift. From the divine powers of Deerington. Has anyone told you about Deerington? The place where a lot of us were...before."

That was the best way she could explain it. Ariadne had never been able to parse out much of the magical goings-on in the place. She'd left that to people who were much smarter and much more experienced. Survival had been first on her mind. The survival of her friends first and foremost. Herself a distant second.

"I was gifted with the orchard," she continued. "It was on the roof of a building that was over seven stories high!"

In her defense, that was really very high for Valerian standards.

"When I arrived here, I found the trees just waiting for me."

[ezra_of_lothal]

He shook his head. "No one's mentioned Deerington to me yet. But I was someone else before, too, with people from all over time and space, so that doesn't really surprise me. Sometimes we got random gifts, too. I got an album of pictures of my friends and family."

For Raleigh

[demonicbeauty]

Tragically, while Ariadne knew quite a lot about gardens and plants and herbs, she knew next to nothing about running a business. She barely knew about shopping and bartering, having first lived in the rain forest, and then in a palace, where such errands were left to someone else. Now, she felt completely spoiled by all of it. And building something herself felt like a high challenge.

But, she figured, the best way to start was with finding a way to advertise what she had to offer, without making a sign. The locals were strangely squeamish about signs.

The idea came to her in that place halfway between sleep and awake. And it felt brilliant at the time.

Which was why, that morning, Ariadne was sitting on the roof of her shop, hanging upside down over the edge, carefully carving the shapes of trees and leaves into the stone over the front entrance with her talons. She was no artist, but she could make basic shapes. And her talons were sharp enough to cut many surfaces, including granite. So while she looked ridiculous, she figured the plan wasn't entirely without merit.

[righthemisphere]

Well that is certainly one way to do things.

Upon approach Raleigh nearly calls out for her to be careful but just before he does a voice in his warns that a sudden noise like that might startle her and she really will fall.

Maybe he shouldn't say anything at all.. but he's lost and the last person he asked had pointed him in this direction. There are trees around so maybe it is the right place? He pulls his coat a little closer around himself, cold regardless of his bloodtype. Just is lot in life.

"Excuse me?" he calls, enough to be heard over the noise of Willful Machine but not designed to scare. He sees the talons and thinks of a scenario where she might flip down like the Witch from that one zombie game he used to play as a kid. Shudder. No thanks, hard pass. Still, needs must.

"I'm looking for the orchard. Is this it?"

[demonicbeauty]

Ariadne appreciated the stranger's gentle approach, but she'd smelled him coming and wasn't startled. Pleased, yes. He seemed polite. But not surprised.

She lifted her head, her hair falling away from her face, revealing a gentle smile, with gray eyes shimmering like silver coins in a fountain. "If you mean the Serenity Garden," she said--she hated that name and needed a better one, but for now it would have to do--"...then yes. I guess it is."

With a quick little shift in her weight, she swung herself up into a sitting position, tucking her feet underneath her. A much better way to look at him.

A Human, from the smell of him. With what looked like a kind face and nice eyes.

She immediately decided she liked him.

[righthemisphere]

Ariadne struck Raleigh as playful in return. Acrobatic. Capable. All qualities he admired in a person and her answer was better, still.

He smiled with relief, bright and genuine.

"I've been looking for you all day. Nobody has any signs."

Ah, peas in a pod, already.

"Do you sell seeds? I know it's early but I want to start my seedlings inside pretty soon and I lost my seedbank when we came here."

He wasn't sure if the woman was a fellow Sleeper or not, but thought everyone would know what that meant.

For Dean

[demonicbeauty]

It wasn't her 'scene,' as they said. Actually, she couldn't remember who 'they' were, but she was absolutely sure it was a figure of speech. And a good one. Because it really wasn't her scene. Ariadne liked taverns well enough, but the Snake's Den was something a little more than a tavern. And yet...there she was. Something just told her that it was where she needed to be. An instinct maybe? A spell perhaps? Didn't matter. She was there. And enjoying some sweet and fruity drink that was approximately the color of a pink tulip.

She was curled up in a big, squashy chair, her feet tucked under her, her cloak loose around her shoulders to keep her warm. Not that she needed it. The whole room felt warm and cozy and homey.

Nothing like she would have expected.

Feeling delightfully lethargic for the first time in...possibly forever...she turned her attention to the stage, where a violin player had just finished and ducked back behind the curtain.

you're gonna get reg dean at the beginning of the event cause i want them to have this moment lmao

[venatoris]

[ He's stressed. He's really fucking stressed from all of Sam's bullshit that's been going on since they got to Trench months ago - between the soulless crap and the other versions spell unraveling and consequential return to the ocean, Dean's been a mess lately.

(a few good things have happened that he hasn't shared with anyone, but that moment is for him, and he's treasuring the knowledge for the moment)

He's heard something about this being a good place for 'stress relief' or some crap like that, so he slings the guitar he's been handed over his body and steps out onto the stage. He's a little nervous - always has been, even despite the whole Rocky Horror thing, they still haven't performed in front of people yet, and this is a totally different experience than just rehearsing.

But this is easy. It's warm and intimate and he finds the stage fright doesn't cripple him here. He takes a deep breath, and starts to play. ]

I LOVE Jensen singing that!

[demonicbeauty]

[It's safe to assume that seeing Dean walk out on stage was more or less the last thing she expected. She's seen him at rehearsals for Rocky Horror (that name still doesn't make much sense, but then again, neither does the plot), but this is entirely different.

This is...this feels more like Dean himself. Not a character. Not someone else's absurd lyrics. This is...this is just Dean.

And he's quite good!

She stands up, drifting closer to the stage, absently abandoning her drink on an empty table. All she can think about at the moment is Dean. And her eyes gleam as she watches him, as she listens to him...as she is in awe of him.]

me tooo he's so talented

[venatoris]

[ It feels good to be able to do this, hold the guitar and actually play. He'd been taught ages ago at the boys home, but picking the guitar up again had been like riding a bicycle.

Easy. It felt right.

He pours himself into it with all the fervor of someone who's been repressed their entire life, unable to take time and enjoy something that brings him joy. ]

For Tara

[demonicbeauty]

When she first decided that she wanted to live openly and honestly, Ariadne thought it would be a simple matter of telling the truth once and being done with it. But she realized now, that was palace life talking. The mindset that the people she lived among would never change, that the same faces would pass her in the hall again and again.

The multiverse wasn't like that.

She was beginning to understand that her idea of permanence was...misplaced. And an unfortunate side effect was that there were a lot of people around who hadn't heard her initial announcement and had no idea who or what she was.

The idea of making the announcement again and again actually made her physically ill. So as a compromise, she decided she would start spending a few hours each day in her natural state.

Which meant there she was, out in her orchard, quietly clearing the snow away from the trunk of her lemon tree. In her natural state: Skin green like the underside of a maple leaf, hair blue as candy floss, lips a deep, dark purple.

Also part of her natural state? Talking to her trees.

"You're looking lovely today, Dagmar," she said sweetly, as if she expected the tree to return the compliment.

[psychopepsquad]

Given the recent loss of bits of her sanity, as well as the number of odd things in Sunnydale, the sight of Ariadne prompted a double take, but no other real reaction. It might be was seeing something or her mind shifted what actually was, as it seemed to be doing of late, or this might just be some random green person.

There were stories about nymphs, but those tended to be mythology. There were demons of different colors and abilities, but it seemed rude to make assumptions. And given the nature of this place, there were a lot of things that existed outside of her general information.

So, what was there really to do? Walk up to a stranger and question her? That felt...off and a bit more than her shyness could take. Instead, she followed the purpose that brought her here, which was meditation. She sat against a nearby tree and reached out to the earth, trying to feel the magic beneath her.

[demonicbeauty]

Serenity Garden was meant to be a public amenity. Ariadne dreamed of a place where everyone felt warm and welcome. Where people could pass the time or share their thoughts or fall in love.

All of the best things of humanoid society.

She hadn't anticipated anyone being eager to use the garden in the middle of winter. Not the way the strange Human lady seemed to be using it, anyway.

A crease of concern formed between her eyes. "Excuse me a moment, Dagmar," she said to her lemon tree, before take a few tentative steps in the stranger's direction. "...aren't you cold, my lady?"

cha-chas in here

[siriusly]

"Oh, whoa...what...?"

Even in the bone-chill of winter, a place as well curated in its foliage as this sure can stand out -- especially after dealing with a rampaging monster around town! Manabu stops near the fence line before the ring of trees and garden fixtures and gawks.

Was this...always here? It's possible; he's not really one to stop and smell the roses...or garden trappings, as it stands.

His gaze moves toward the building proper, searching out for signage. If this is in Willful Machine, then it's a business, right...?

[demonicbeauty]

As luck would have it, Ariadne was on the roof when she picked up an unfamiliar scent and heard someone speaking below. All morning, she'd been carving crude leaves and trees into the awning over the doorway. And she was getting all the grime out from under her talons, so she wouldn't muck up the inside of the shop. Not that it was a sterile environment. There were plants and dirt in every corner.

That didn't mean she couldn't try to keep it as well as the shop in Deerington.

At any rate, when she heard the stranger, she crept to the edge of the roof and glanced down.

Not a face she recognized, but in her world, a stranger was just a friend waiting to happen. Or something like that.

"Hello?" she called down, pulling the hood off of her hair so her face could be seen.

[siriusly]

"Eh-? Huh?"

Manabu blinks out of his thoughtful absence, looking around. At his feet, a small dog, his omen, catches glimpse of the woman first and takes a few bold steps toward the door, which prompts the man to turn his focus that way, too.

"Oh, ah, hello?" A wave of sheepishness hits, and a hand he raises in hello just as quickly moves to the back of his head. "Sorry, were you talking to me, or someone else?"

[facultative]

[Anakin has been spending most of his time by himself recently and it's unusual to find him at the Snake Den, but there had been an irresistible draw when he had found those posters so here he was. It had worked out in the end, the crowds didn't make him anxious and in fact did the opposite. There's a warmth and inner peace that he hasn't felt in a very long time. If he hadn't been so grateful for it he might have realised this wasn't natural.

He doesn't feel any guilt over what happened to Dean. Maybe he went a little too far, but he didn't regret stopping him. It was disgusting how he had stuck so close to Padmé to feign friendship and then he had jumped immediately to do the same to Ariadne. He hasn't yet realised that the Winchester's aren't actually from a galaxy far far away like him.

Running into Ariadne gets a small nod in greeting. He knows she isn't entirely happy with him at the moment, but he had no ill will towards her.]

[demonicbeauty]

[She smells him before she sees him, which is a good thing to her mind. It gives her time to start preparing. The last thing Ariadne is going to do is let Anakin Skywalker hurt someone else. So the second she picks up his scent, she quietly moves around the room, a light hand on the shoulders of strangers, quietly encouraging them to leave, to find another room. A safer place.

So the crowd has thinned by the time Ariadne actually sees Anakin. And feels a small flicker of rage.

When she first learned what he did to Dean, she wanted to hurt him. A sensation she never felt before and immediately hated. Maybe regretted, hard to say. She didn't act on it, which is a small consolation. But seeing him again brings back the memory of that anger.

A server passes by, carrying the remains of a drink--which she learned is called a margarita--on a tray. She reaches for his elbow with one hand, taking the tray from him. "Run. It's not safe here." A whisper softly in his ear. And her earnest expression seems to convince him, because he lets go of his tray and immediately turns, leaving the room.

Ariadne continues forward, flipping the tray on her forearm like a shield, clutching the stem of the margarita glass in the other hand.]

[facultative]

[Unbeknownst to her those precautions are unnecessary. The temptation of the dark side won't leave him so easily, but it's not something he wants to reach for.

He tilts his head in confusion as he watches her hold the tray oddly.]

You're supposed to put your cup on it.