Hazel Tasker (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
turningcolors) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
nexus_crossings2018-11-01 08:16 am
turningcolors) wrote in nexus_crossings2018-11-01 08:16 am
Age Old Advice (Seasonal Post)
A mist has settled over the Nexus this morning.
The fog billows and wisps, keeping destinations hidden from view. Muffling the noise of the plaza, stifling everything into a feeling of bleak isolation. Those who persevere will find a warm orange glow drawing them near. At either end of the Plaza--one near the sprawling parks close to the Wilds and the other closer to the beginnings of the urban sprawl--are two oasis from the creeping cold and mists. Hazel has taken the flame from the bonfire she lit at the Equinox that has burned steadily ever since and spread it out among several torches making up the perimeter of these areas now. The bonfire is long gone, but these two areas remain. When she came into the season she was a roaring blaze. So much to prove. With her place cemented here, she has gotten down to her actual work.
The Autumn spirit is seated on a bench in one of the torch lit circles holding a conversation with a person that's difficult to make out. IN fact, when someone approaches, they will find it's a spirit she is cavorting with. After only a few seconds the figure dissolves into the selfsame mist people have sought out these places to escape from. Hazel turns to her new audience.
"If you could talk to a lost loved one just once more, who would you want to see? What advice would you ask from a loved one deigning to cross the veil to see you?"
((Anyone who chooses to participate may choose to either speak to Hazel in general about the question she's posing or if the player is so inclined Hazel will conjure up the spirit of a lost loved one to speak to your character. Please DM me in DW or discord if you choose to have a loved one appear so we can hash out what you want to do. Curses and Blessings are still available as well. Happy Day of the Dead, folks ;) ))
The fog billows and wisps, keeping destinations hidden from view. Muffling the noise of the plaza, stifling everything into a feeling of bleak isolation. Those who persevere will find a warm orange glow drawing them near. At either end of the Plaza--one near the sprawling parks close to the Wilds and the other closer to the beginnings of the urban sprawl--are two oasis from the creeping cold and mists. Hazel has taken the flame from the bonfire she lit at the Equinox that has burned steadily ever since and spread it out among several torches making up the perimeter of these areas now. The bonfire is long gone, but these two areas remain. When she came into the season she was a roaring blaze. So much to prove. With her place cemented here, she has gotten down to her actual work.
The Autumn spirit is seated on a bench in one of the torch lit circles holding a conversation with a person that's difficult to make out. IN fact, when someone approaches, they will find it's a spirit she is cavorting with. After only a few seconds the figure dissolves into the selfsame mist people have sought out these places to escape from. Hazel turns to her new audience.
"If you could talk to a lost loved one just once more, who would you want to see? What advice would you ask from a loved one deigning to cross the veil to see you?"
((Anyone who chooses to participate may choose to either speak to Hazel in general about the question she's posing or if the player is so inclined Hazel will conjure up the spirit of a lost loved one to speak to your character. Please DM me in DW or discord if you choose to have a loved one appear so we can hash out what you want to do. Curses and Blessings are still available as well. Happy Day of the Dead, folks ;) ))
It's fine! I'm just here to be whimsical.
He doesn't want to be an angry or vengeful spirit, see. Just himself. Weird in death as he was in life.
He can't exactly return her smile. His face is stuck with limited mobility, but the firefly-eyes blink expressively. He ducks his head, friendly and abashed, and takes her hand without hesitation. His is gloved, but feels very bony beneath. He's not 100% sure what's going on, but he can tell he can trust her. He nods in response to her question, following wherever she leads, but taps his throat with his free hand. Talking aloud isn't going to come easy, if at all.
Although, he wasn't much of a talker in life, either.
He seems to be able to shape words in the mist though, and waves his free hand again lightly: Hi! I'm Curtis. Perf weather, thank you.
((I'm just voicetesting this little dude and this seemed like the best possible opportunity. <3 ))
no subject
A curious thing. A curious boy.
"Good day, Curtis. My name is Hazel. I'm glad you like what I've done with the place." No shame in letting a bit of a cheeky smile show. He seems a playful sort of boy. "It's only for today, but I'm gathering people to pay respects for the dead."
no subject
Hazel. He sketches her name in the mists, followed by a quick doodle of a pumpkin with trailing vines.
Death is an awfully big adventure. But I miss movies and art.
There's a little color creeping over his features now.
no subject
Hazel drags her finger across the pumpkin and turns it into a jack'o lantern with a few short strokes before she raises her gaze to smile back at Curtis. Willing to play along with his whims. Today is about him, after all.
He and all of his kind.
"Indeed. So many stories speak of Death as the last great adventure of mankind. You must have seen so many things." But for a modern child there would understandably be a lot to miss from the world. "Would you like to make some art now?"
no subject
He sketches a heart in the air to express his delight and gratitude, then writes, I think Death is what you make of it. Can be awful if you expect it to be. Can be beautiful if you look for that instead. Can be magical.
The face he wore in life is flickering into focus now, like a spectral overlay across his bones. The eyes are still glowing from the fireflies, but she can see the somber, earnest, pointy little face, dark eyes, a tiny, reserved smile.
Can we? Will you make something with me?
no subject
Centuries of effort have born no fruit. That is Spring's domain. She takes her pleasure in teaching other children instead. Curtis will be no different. He's already made her pleased beyond words by asking her to play with him.
"Of course. Would you like to make a jack o lantern now? Or perhaps hel me make a skeleton out of cookies? We can do whatever you'd like."