Father Time (
timefather) wrote in
mythmaking2013-12-08 03:00 pm
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Entry tags:
- !event,
- !npc: death,
- !npc: fairy godmother,
- !npc: father time,
- !npc: spring lamb,
- ace attorney: franziska von karma,
- claymore: cynthia,
- double arts: kiri luchile,
- ever after high: apple white,
- fairy tales: simon the seventh,
- final fantasy v: faris scherwiz,
- fire emblem tellius: ranulf,
- fire emblem: awakening: owain,
- harry potter: luna lovegood,
- homestuck: karkat vantas,
- kamigami no asobi: yui kusanagi,
- kingdom hearts: riku replica,
- les miserables: enjolras,
- les miserables: eponine thenardier,
- les miserables: gavroche,
- les miserables: grantaire,
- magi: ja'far,
- mcu: loki laufeyson,
- mcu: steve rogers,
- old kingdom: mogget,
- persona 3: shinjiro aragaki,
- persona 4: kanji tatsumi,
- persona 4: naoto shirogane,
- pokemon (anime): n,
- pokemon (games): mei,
- tangled: rapunzel,
- the hunger games: peeta mellark,
- vampire knight: yuuki kuran,
- vampire knight: zero kiryuu,
- young justice: dick grayson,
- young justice: wally west
Once upon a time...
[ For the residents of Märchenstraße, and all the land surrounding it, the eighth of December was a day to look forward to. Looking at it from an outside perspective, strangers and travelers could easily assume it to be a holiday. At the very least, a day for a festival, if a modest one. A day that shopkeeps spent all morning preparing for, that all manner of creatures spent days traveling to the city to witness. They'd heard the talk that passed around, the rumors from those still left. But would it work? No one knew for sure, no matter how confident the stories seemed to be. But hope was very quickly becoming all they had left.
They had decorated the whole town. Streamers, banners, wreathes and garland made of autumn flowers, plus whatever the Fairy Godmother had cooked up. Oh, she was just giddy. No skepticism could be spoken around her, not if you wanted to escape the wrath of her wand! Rumor had it that she had caught wind of a few piglets squealing about the likelihood that their magic would fail, and that they were subsequently transformed into the band of musicians who could be found performing in the park.
Well, at least the music was festive.
Of course, the decorations weren't for the newcomers alone. Autumn was coming to a close in just a few weeks, and Old Man Winter would take the reigns like he did every year, and their weather would turn cold and harsh. The chill was already there, cool and biting when the wind picked up speed. Lady Autumn was much preferred to the citizens of the city with her gentle nature, even if she failed to show up, finishing her work in the orchards instead. That was what they liked about her.
It was mid-morning when Father Time was found outside of his tower, checking one of the numerous pocket watches he kept on his person. "Unnecessary, but comfortable," he called them, and closed the watch again. It was twelve o'clock in the afternoon, and where empty space had been just seconds before, now they were. Sitting on benches, lying in flower patches, scattered about the city and outside of the gates in peaceful slumber. They would awaken to the bells of the clock tower. Some, to many friendly and relieved faces all around them, some to grateful ones carrying gifts of food and clothing and magic, and some to fearful, cautious faces. Regardless of how the town treated them, they would awaken to a celebration of their arrival, and choices to be made, and the books. Each and every one. ]
They had decorated the whole town. Streamers, banners, wreathes and garland made of autumn flowers, plus whatever the Fairy Godmother had cooked up. Oh, she was just giddy. No skepticism could be spoken around her, not if you wanted to escape the wrath of her wand! Rumor had it that she had caught wind of a few piglets squealing about the likelihood that their magic would fail, and that they were subsequently transformed into the band of musicians who could be found performing in the park.
Well, at least the music was festive.
Of course, the decorations weren't for the newcomers alone. Autumn was coming to a close in just a few weeks, and Old Man Winter would take the reigns like he did every year, and their weather would turn cold and harsh. The chill was already there, cool and biting when the wind picked up speed. Lady Autumn was much preferred to the citizens of the city with her gentle nature, even if she failed to show up, finishing her work in the orchards instead. That was what they liked about her.
It was mid-morning when Father Time was found outside of his tower, checking one of the numerous pocket watches he kept on his person. "Unnecessary, but comfortable," he called them, and closed the watch again. It was twelve o'clock in the afternoon, and where empty space had been just seconds before, now they were. Sitting on benches, lying in flower patches, scattered about the city and outside of the gates in peaceful slumber. They would awaken to the bells of the clock tower. Some, to many friendly and relieved faces all around them, some to grateful ones carrying gifts of food and clothing and magic, and some to fearful, cautious faces. Regardless of how the town treated them, they would awaken to a celebration of their arrival, and choices to be made, and the books. Each and every one. ]
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Not that it matters much this day. He knows that being present for the festival is something he will have to endure, as much as he would like to hide among the nearly-harvest ready of his crops. He did what work he could this morning, and resigned himself that he would not do much else.
Still, it is always something strange to meet the man buying sweet potatoes.
It is phrased as a statement, but Simon's tone makes it clear that it is more a question that lingers in his mind. ]
You are certain this is wise, sir. [ The first title that rises to his lips is Your Majesty and he must swallow it down. Not that he holds his own king in such high regard, but more that it is a solid reminder that they are all not here. It rankles. Slightly. ] I...
[ still hold my doubts. But such is not his place to say.
He makes a poor face for cheering and celebration, as grim as he feels.]
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[ He waits to look up, handing two fresh sweet potatoes to the merchant. The words are out of his mouth almost before Simon has finished. ]
But your doubts are not unfounded. The possibility of failure is always present when dealing with such grave circumstances.
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He waits a moment, and purchases some potatoes (not sweet) of his own. ]
Are we to rest that on these strangers' shoulders?
[ For one who has lost his own home, it seems cruel to pull others from theirs for anything less than a certainty. ]
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So she slips after Father Time, watching patiently for a chance to relieve him of a bit of his change.]
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Sorry - I worked a 28 hrs this weekend and rp kinda got passed up!
I know what you mean, I've been busier this week than I expected
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She's exhausted, mentally. Taking this all in (and with so little information to go off with) is simply too much for her to handle, especially when her mind too is busy with other thoughts not belonging to this place. What of the garden? Did Zeus already send her back? If so, why here?
She snaps out of her reverie when one of the ducks peck at her hand. )
Er ... ( She pats her uniform pockets for anything but all she has is the Kusanagi. ) I don't have anything with me, sorry.
( And the journal and quill, of course. ) And I don't suppose you can eat paper.
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Why don't we share?
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[It's while she's backing away from a few individuals that she accidentally bumps into an older man doing his shopping. Chestnuts and sweet potatoes...]
My apologies, sir. [Anything he dropped (if he did), she would do what she could to compensate.]
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No need, no need. Are you well?
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Hey. Y'seen a girl around? She's got blue hair... Dresses like it's always winter.
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No, I'm afraid not. Late, perhaps?
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[Exhausted of everything that's happened, Karkat slumped down on a lonely bench. The only ones in his vicinity was some old human on an identical bench across from him, feeding a flock of quackbirds in front of him. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers.]
Fuck me, what the hell am I going to do now?
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I supposed the sudden manifestation of a pair of wings such as yours will take several days to master. If it helps, you won't be the only one.
[ The ducks, used to people sitting on the bench being a prelude to free dinner, spread out in Karkat's direction. ]
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Hey Old Man, the festival's looking great. D'you think there is room for me and Babe?
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Of course! Just be mindful of our new friends. They aren't quite as familiar with you, you know.
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These Duckletts look really odd.
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I wonder on occasion how ordinary they are, but I haven't found anything to suggest otherwise.
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...S'it New Years here or somethin'?
[He was holding the primary ingredients for Kuri Kinton, after all. He fell asleep in spring and woke up here, where it was chilly and crisp like it was late in the year. But it wasn't THAT late, was it?]
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[ Which is a fancy way of saying "I do what I like". The perks of existing as he does. ]
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He's in cat form, strolling towards the old man almost nonchalantly, as though he's more interested in the ducks than anything else. They fly away as Mogget approaches. He stops a short distance away, tail twitching. Tense.]
Are you Father Time?
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That would be me. Did you have much trouble in your search?
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[ It takes him a while, but he finally sees the old man feeding the ducks. The way he's not at all confused by what is happening, and even his excitement seems to be... well, less than most of the local residents. So he shrugs. No harm in asking, is there? He does take off the glasses, though, it seems sort of right. ]
Excuse me, sir. Are you Father Time?
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I am. Can I help you?
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