deercountry | A Very Happy New Year [Open, Mingle Log]

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A Very Happy New Year [Open, Mingle Log]

Who: The Medicine Seller and You
What: A rather informal (emphasis on the former) hatsugama. Come get your tea and mochi.
When: January 9th
Where: At The Mossy Fox.

Content Warning: Mischievious but otherwise harmless spooks for those who might go wandering. Because of course he would live in a haunted house.

I. HATS OFF FOR HATSUGAMA

A. Arrival
It wasn't like the Medicine Seller could have lived somewhere less remote; that might make things convenient, and unfortunately he doesn't have a single ounce of convenient sensibilities. The journey to the Mossy Fox is, for most, a long one, up twisting paths through the woods. Helpfully, brightly coloured paper lanterns have been set out along the route for those who expressed interest in the tea ceremony, and for those who just need an escape from the bitter chill, and some of the steeper parts of the trek have been shoveled free of snow.

The Medicine Seller greets any arrivals, polite and aloof as ever, but there is hot tea or chocolate and bowls of o-zoni are served around the fire pit to ward away the winter chill and to give his guests time to mingle and any stragglers to make it up to the remote home in the heavy snow.

B. First Tea Ceremony of the Year
When it seems no more are coming, the Medicine Seller leads the group from the kitchen area to the spare room. It's quite a bit chillier in here without any heat source and poor insulation, though there are several kotatsu set up so his guests don't freeze waiting for their tea and sweets.

The process of making the tea is explained, from each component such as the portable little charcoal heater, to the delicate whisk, to say nothing of how a careful, deliberate process such as preparing tea might help with counteracting the psychological elements of corruption and beasthood.

Three at a time little bowls of a thick, green tea are served, coupled with plates of the hanabira mochi. The tea lacks the usual bitterness one might expect, tasting a bit how freshly cut grass smells; lightly sweet and earthy. The mochi too is pleasant; chewy and sweet but not overly so.

II. YOU'D BEST START BELIEVING IN GHOST STORIES...

The Medicine Seller's home is... eclectic. If one were to go wandering, they may see all manner of oddities; books and charts detailing diseases and treatments, curious knicknacks and pottery, an odd collection of clockwork toys that don't seem to work, scandalous literature... with pictures, various alembics and other chemistry equipment, sheaves of herbs and other plants hanging up to dry, and things in dusty jars best not to speculate too hard on.

Perhaps that clockwork doll begins to move suddenly, or you catch sight of a giggling child scrambling up the stairs out of sight, or perhaps there is a peculiar scratching sound beneath the floor from the the cellar, or the dulcet tones of an elegant sounding woman lead you out to the orchard.

Whatever the case, there is something very strange in the neighborhood.

III. PARTING GIFTS

All good things must come to an end, though there are remaining gifts to give to the guests. Little red paper bags containing samples of tea and incense and boxes of sweets and dried persimmons all tied with omamori in shades of red, pink, or gold. Protections from the darker things that lurk in the gloom of the forests as the sun sets over Trenchwood, and nice things to share with friends and loved ones.

"I do look forward to seeing you again soon," he says with a bow. "Do have... a safe trip home."

code bases by tricklet

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She has been curious enough to want to cut open her thumb to see what happened, but she hasn't yet. She already knew she was bizarre enough, being both Bgztlian and Carggite, but at least she'd been born with the powers of both sides. This...ice summoning can only be done by natives of Tharr and she knows there's none of that in her bloodline. And no one does fire unless they've been subjected to something terrible.

But she's far more interested in what Vira-Lorr has to say. "Really? Well, that's a sensible enough reaction to seeing destruction for the sake of destruction or even just wastefulness." She paused and chewed her lower lip for a moment. "I know that killing or even grievous harm is forbidden by the Legion, but sometimes I wonder about that. Some crimes have higher prices than others."

"I try not to judge others in the paths that they walk. I've learned that sometimes, a little darkness is needed to avoid a far greater evil, and that walking too far down that path makes one little better than the things that they try to fight. It is a razor's edge, and a difficult one to decipher when you walk it." She shrugged, sighing to herself.

"I think the real answer in life is that there are no easy answers. It was a thing Arbol understood. He was always regretful when he had to resort to the most tremendous of responses."

"Back home, my feelings were the same as when I left. No killing. The other place and here, perhaps? On occasion, it may be necessary. My first real battle, it should have been necessary." And a shadow crosses her face, blue eyes going dark with the memory of dying in a field in her then-boyfriend's arms.

"It's easy to believe in easy answers when one is young or has little experience of the galaxy. But regret...that remains no matter how much experience one has." She's upset at herself that she let herself get controlled by a telepath. Again.

"If we could live in world where all could be free to do as they wished, and none ever had to die? That would be a true delight. It would be a wonderful world, if you asked me. Pity it's never so simple." She gave a wistful sigh. "But you seem to have matured from it all at least, to know some of those lessons. Just never let regret rule your life. It can be devastating and a poison."

"I know. Not even in my time is it that simple. Most Terran-born survive until they're 125 or 150 years old, longer for Bgztlians. That's more than enough time to accumulate a multitude of regrets. But also long enough to settle them." She thinks. She hopes. She's already managed to rack up so many in her eighteen years. "...I know. Mother has regrets. But she refuses to accept any responsibility for them. I don't know if that makes it worse or not."

"Each of our burdens are our own. That is for her to figure out in the end. I hope that yours do not weigh you down too much." She smiled over at her. "They can be quite dangerous in this place."

"I guess. I only wish she wouldn't take it out on me, that's all. And, I'm trying. It's easier to let what happen back home happen. At least it is here, I'm...not entirely sure why, but it is." Tinya smiled back. "Is that what's meant by corruption?"

"No. Corruption is ... a deeper weakening of the spirit in this place. You will see a person start to show signs of actual mental instability and their body will begin to transform. That ease of feeling like 'home is home and it's fine...' That is a sensation many of us experienced when we arrived. Some push past it because their worries are great, and some are more comfortable." She was much more the latter.

"...physically transform? Into what, back into a squid? And mental instability, I know something of that given what I had to deal with in the other world. I do have to push past that feeling, though, since my son needs me and his father and I are estranged." Even saying that out loud is like a knife to her heart. She knows, she knows she needs to go home.

"Into a monster of some sort. Portions becoming more and more bestial, in different ways particular to them." She shook her head sadly. "Hopefully, though, you will be reunited with your son soon. Families should not be so separated."

Tinya sighs and looks down at her legs for a moment. "I knew there was a catch. Outside of apparently losing my powers." The idea of turning into a beast terrifies her. Terrifies her because she hates being out of control and that would be the ultimate in loss. "They really shouldn't. But I never had much of a family, anyway. My great-great and great-grandmothers are still alive and so is my mother, but other than my son and my--my husband, they're all I have"

"This is why we have each other. We can work to help. It minimizes the likelihood of it, though the details aren't clear why. It just seems that interacting seems to help." She shrugged. Really, the reasons were more obvious. Vira-Lorr was just overthinking it for the moment.

"Hopefully you will be reunited soon, though... great great grandmother? Forgive me the question, but are you human? That's quite an ancestry to still be alive."

"..really? That works? Because where I left, things would infect people as a whole, leaving no one behind unless they hid themselves in their homes for a week at a time. Which I must admit, I often did. But, interactions...I can do that." She hates the idea of turning into anything other than herself. Odd enough that she can no longer phase and can summon fire now. And ice. And lightning.

"I'm Bgztlian. It's common enough to live for at least two hundred years, even up to three hundred years, at least for Bgztlian women. Though, I barely get to see them, I haven't been on-planet in ages. Occasionally, though, they comm me to let me know what a disappointment I've been." Said with no rancor or condemnation, she knows she's a disappointment by Bgztlian standards.

"There are some old rules of thumb I've heard of in the past that don't work quite so well. We're often much safer as a group, even in times like that." The idea of making them all one large target occurred to them, but it wasn't just safety in numbers. Closeness protected with corruption.

"I see. So yours is a longer lived people. But why on earth would they think of you as a disappointment? You seem just fine to me." Admittedly, she barely knew her, and she knew all too well her mother's disapproval, though in her case it was because 'you're going to get us all killed.'

"In a group? Even when things are going mad all around us? I only worry about what I could do, the way I am now. I think this place changed me somehow. Other than the squid portion, that's a part I wish I could forget." Where she was, people would go off and do their own things for the most part and she could keep herself hidden away, but it sounds like that option isn't so great here.

"Oh, easy," she starts counting on her fingers, "one, threatening to stay with the Paris Opera Ballet when I was fourteen, two, I joined a super-hero team instead of staying in the diplomatic corps, three, I started dating a Rimborian, basically assumed the scum of the universe, four, I got myself killed while super-heroing, five, I married the Rimborian and had his child, six, the child was a boy, not a girl...it's a lot of social faux pas and if there's something Bgztlians hate, it's social faux pas. That, and losing face in society. Which I also made them do."

"It's a little ... disturbing." Kind of like calling water a little on the moist side there. But understatement felt appropriate. "I try not to think too long about it, unless I'm in the company of those who joke to relieve stress. The blood you have has probably given you some added traits, but just being there for friends will help, I assure you."

She put her hand to her mouth and coughed, concealing a bit of laughter there. she wasn't laughing at the girl's situation. "Oh... family. You can't live with them. You can't escape them. My mother was convinced I would get all of us killed one day with how brazen and open I was." A shake of her head and a smile. "But if love is what got you in trouble at least in part? It's a good reason to be a disappointment. One must follow one's heart."

A pause. "Hmmm, you mentioned dying. I take it you have ways around that ... pesky condition in your world?"

Tinya sighed quietly. "All right. Friends. I'm sure I can make one or two of those. I used to be very popular back home," but that's a cold comfort now that she's had her trust betrayed and her very being used as another's mask for six months down to the point of imitating her to her husband. She's been a bit leery of people ever since.

And she grins at Vira-Lorr's description of her mother. "I think maybe my mother and yours should compare notes sometime. Or maybe not, it might make them even more strict. No one wants that." And Tinya blushes a little and looks down. Her relationship with her husband was shaky at best when she left, but this isn't the time to mull over that. "It was like I already knew him when we'd first met. Like there was a missing piece in my life and when I met him, I thought 'oh, there it is.' If that makes sense?"

And she flushes more. "Yes. We were able to find another body for me."

"Oh, my mother had her reasons. I just wasn't willing to live in secret like the rest of our people," she admitted, smirking a bit. "But perhaps it's better that they don't share too many notes either way, though she and I haven't seen each other in more than a century now." And she hadn't bothered to write.

"Oh, that makes absolutely perfect sense. It sounds rather like the idea of true love after all." She beamed as she said that, winking over at her before pausing a moment. "Ah, and you use different bodies? I suppose that makes sense. We ... didn't have the option if the body couldn't be recovered, but they could do wonders otherwise, if you had the coin."

"And I didn't want to live the same life my mother lived, with every detail planned in advance. It was quite the scandal when I decided to change things up a bit." She smirks back. "A century is a long time. Even when one is long-lived." But she knows she'll have to go follow in the family tradition eventually, though not until she's willing to do it.

"Yes, it does. Granted, it wasn't that easy but since when is love easy?" And Tinya blushes. The course of true love never did go smoothly, after all. "Not exactly. I just happened to have a spare."

"A good plan. Best to live your own life. And yes... a century is a long time, but a lot happened. And in the end, the needs of our tribe were transcended by bigger issues." She shrugged, her smile still mild.

She laughed softly. "Not a bad plan. Have a spare. Oh, how I'm sure a few wished they could do that trick where I come from."

She takes that in silently, then nods. "Even a century can seem like the blink of an eye in times of turmoil."

"Yes. It wound up being very useful." But useful is one word for it. A hostile takeover is another. She wasn't half-Bgztlian and half-Terran, she was half-Bgztlian and half-Carggite. There was another of her floating out in the ether and only the Mistress knew what the missing third of her had become.

"It really can feel that way at times, like time passes almost lightning fast and you don't realize how long it's been. Sometimes, it also feels like a short time takes forever. It's all perception, but it feels all too real." She shrugged a little.

"Is that practice of producing clones common in your world?"

"Exactly. Like the three years in the other place. It felt like an eternity and a single night at the same time." She realizes she has to be wary here, too, since it seemed to be the nature of the multiverse that odd occurrences were common enough.

"Not exactly. I'm...my maternal line is the most important one on my homeworld. So maybe that earned me an excemption since I'm an only child?" And the odds of her mother and her father reconciling and having another daughter were nonexistent. Her father had sold two of her for gambling debts and her mother's true love was power.

She simply nodded to the first, sighing a bit. "No, that sounds like exactly the sort of thing that would lead to an exception. I am sometimes a little embarrassed in explaining the situation in my own world, because I know that it comes from a place of privilege. Only the wealthy can be resurrected, and our armies were very well funded. there was need, but many of the foot soldiers could not be so readily saved..." A shake of her head. "Those kinds of resources are difficult for the common people to have."

"The curse of prestige, power, and money," she says a little wryly. She knows most people would kill to be in her position, but it feels like it's suffocating her. But at Vira-Lorr's description, she gives a sympathetic sigh. "It's awful. It's awful to live with it, the perks which come with privilege. Especially when there's no way to pass those privileges on to others."

(CW: cutting in a non-self harm way)

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