OPEN | let's change from the heart, let's shout

[nomorules]

Who: Anyone and everyone! That means you! Yes, you, c'mere.
Where: The stream and the lake.
When: July 12th, evening.
Rating: PG in case any of y'all get wild with that decorating.
Summary: Come and take part in a mini lantern ceremony, Wonderland-style. Mingle away, comrades!
The Story:





The evening of the 12th, visitors who feel like moseying their way to the stream where it empties out of the forest will be able to enjoy a summer celebration in the Japanese style. Outdoor lights illuminate the area, and tables hold all manner of art supplies and blank paper lanterns waiting to be decorated.

Didn't catch the network 411? Someone around will surely explain: it's a nod to toro nagashi, the paper lantern ceremony meant to guide the souls of the departed by decorating lanterns and setting them loose. Maybe you have a departed soul you'd like to remember, or a prayer to make. Maybe you'd just like to write a note message-in-a-bottle style. Maybe you just feel like taking the air and enjoying the sights. The choice is yours!

Either way, once the sun has set and lanterns have been decorated, the candles inside will be lit (remember fire safety, kids!), and the lanterns will be released into the water.

Gather at the lakeside afterward to watch them empty into the lake and enjoy the ambiance with some food and drink. Because we could all use a little more light in our lives, no?

Comments

not here. ):

[dramatic]

Mary Jane Watson likes gatherings.

She likes being where other people are. She's never alone, not if she can help it. And she liked Ryuji that one time they talked. Besides, honoring the dead doesn't have to be a sad and depressing affair. But it's a helpless thing: Gwen's death is too fresh in her mind and her heart. She can smell the cordite of the Green Goblin's bombs. She can hear the sickening snap of Gwen's delicate neck. She sees the violent anger in Peter's eyes, an anger that pummels her like fists towards the open door. To this day, she can't quite tell you why she stayed.

Laughing through life like Mary Jane wants isn't always easy. Some things can't be partied away or ignored. She plans to release two lanterns — one for her mother and one for Gwen — and then slip away before too many people show up. She can do quiet and subtle. Maybe.

But the mansion steps are as close as she gets.

Deux Lux sounds better. MJ turns on her heel, giving people a bright smile as she steps back inside.

[jivitadana]

Minato did like the lake. And he liked too that there was a little ceremony taking place and that he got to be a part of it. He had brought his own lantern that was rather plain save for a blue butterfly on the outside of it. It was plain since he needed enough room to write on it, even if he wrote everything on the inside of the lantern.

He did have his blue pen with him that he liked to write it. He had written all of these names though, and it almost looked like just a collage of kanji as there were so many of them. But they were on the inside since he intended the names to be for himself.

But he did have space for one more name. He wasn't sure if he should write it though. He'd leave the up for debate.

Since he had his lantern, he did go around the crafts table to see if anyone needed help.

And when it was the right time, he was standing near the mouth of the stream where it met the lake. He waited though with his lit lantern, waiting for anyone else to release their lantern too so the lanterns wouldn't go off alone.

[eatsyourscience]

Souji was at the crafts table as well, uncertain what to write on his lantern. He had a pen in hand, but just looked at the paper quietly until he saw Minato approaching. He smiled and shifted the lantern aside.

"You have yours ready." He could guess who all of those names belonged to.

[jivitadana]

Minato smiled and sat down next to Souji, putting his lantern on the table.

"It's not quite done."

He peered inside of his since he knew he could finish it off, but he hadn't yet. He wrote everyone else that he wanted to already plus people here who had left.

"How's yours?"

OTA

[nomorules]

I

<sub>[That an impulsive suggestion could turn into a positive opportunity like this--despite a total lack of event planning skills on his part--fills Ryuji with a sense of accomplishment. Who'da thunk they could pull this off?

Admittedly, his mood and his confidence could use a bit of bolstering after a month of being no closer to going home (or landing a date, for that matter, a different kind of dead end). It's something to focus on, keep his hands busy with. And it could be good for people--that makes it worth the effort.

Seeing as how this is his brainchild, Ryuji is around to help where needed, hauling supplies from the mansion, answering questions, helping with the drawing or candle-lighting. Doesn't stop him from stretching his back out with a pop after carrying what feels like the zillionth load of lantern paper across the field to their meeting point (it's maybe, like, the second).]</sub>

Man, this is more work than I thought it'd be.

<sub>[Who's idea was this agai--

... Oh right.]</sub>

II

<sub>[Distracted by half a dozen other things, including chatting with old friends and new acquaintances alike, Ryuji ends up one of the last to get his own lantern finished. Squatting in the grass to work under the glow of a garden light, he rests the wooden base the lantern will eventually be attached to on his knee. With the paper braced across its surface, he launches into a robust attack with waterproof markers, tongue poking from the side of his mouth. He's no artist, but that doesn't stop him.

Question is--what to dedicate this to?

It's hard to decide, so many things sit close to his heart these days, filling the gaps that selfish anger used to fill. He settles for a little bit of everything. On one side, a scribbled logo, painfully familiar to some, represents his friends in the Phantom Thieves. On another side, a drawing of his school's crest stands in for Shujin and his schoolmates, victims of so much bullshit this last year (and maybe even a teensy bit for Kobayakawa, like a smidge, a speck). On another, a flag of Japan. Easy to draw, for one thing, and homesickness is tenacious, for another.

On the last side, there are no drawings, just words. Prayers. It's more personal, and Ryuji hunches protectively over the page as he writes blocky (and occasionally misspelled) prayers for the well-being of his mom, his friends. That Japan's soccer team keeps up its winning streak in the FIFA qualifiers. And finally that everyone finds their way home back to their own worlds and families safely.

Finished, he slams the marker down. Done! That's all she wrote.]</sub>

III

<sub>[By nightfall, the lantern lights are bobbing gently on the lake's surface with the lily pads, some still trickling in from the stream. A curious frog makes a leap for one and misjudges the jump, splashing down with a watery ribbit. The effect is relaxing--better, knowing it's come out of their own hard work.

They did this! Go, team! Feeling like he's levelled up on maturity, Ryuji takes a cup of coffee over to the benches, thinking maybe tonight's the tonight his taste buds have matured, too, and he finally learns to appreciate why people like drinking this stuff at events.

...

...]</sub>

... So bitter.

_{[Blegh! He makes a sour lemon face. Nope, this is still too strong for him. Someone take this away!]}

III

[idolings]

[Everything about this event had been so lovely. Sayaka found herself dreamily staring off at the lake, while watching all of the beautiful lighted laterns float across the shimmering water. It was a relaxing sight and she felt at peace just from witnessing them. Of all the things that happened in Wonderland, this was one of her favorites. So she made a promise to herself that before this was over, she was going to find the mastermind behind this so she can show him her appreciation.

While holding onto two cups of hot chocolate, she catches the sight of a very familiar blonde sitting on one of the benches. With a grin, she slowly approaches him from behind.]

Hello Sakamoto-kun.

[In an attempt to hide her identity (For like five seconds), Sayaka speaks in a much lower pitch tone than the usual peppy voice she had when talking to Ryuji over the network.]

[nomorules]

<sub>[And she'll find said mastermind busily looking around for a secluded place to dump the contents of his styrofoam cup. (Do the frogs talk? Is one going to bitch him out if he throws coffee out on their lawn?)

The sound of a voice makes him jump, and he turns sporting an almost guilty look.]</sub>

--oh, it's you!

_{[That's a relief. For a second, she'd sounded a bit like Makoto when she has her lecturing voice on.]}

Phew, I thought you were someone else.

OTA

[angewiesen]

Jean sat on the pier, before the sun had totally set, his legs dangling over the water. In one hand was a blank lantern, and a black marker was in the other.

He knew Ryuji had technically done this for him, so he couldn't avoid the event. Even he was that rude. But now that he was here, he felt... paralyzed. His mind trailed its way back to every person he's ever seen die. Dozens? Hundreds? How many had there been? What about those who had lost their lives at his own hands?

He didn't know all of their names. Even if he did, he'd be casting a whole flotilla of lanterns out just by himself. But didn't they all deserve his recognition? Without them, he might be among their numbers. Even his enemies were just following orders. They were all just following orders.

This was why he kept himself busy during the day. He didn't like to think about this. It just led him around in circles. There wasn't anyone he could work these feeling out with-- not that he knew that was something he could do either. Silent suffering was kind of a common thing back home. There aren't any therapists in the apocalypse.

Jean sighed in frustration, capped his marker, and sat his lantern aside to stare out at the 'ocean' instead. The sun was slipping further and further below the watery horizon.

[strategised]

Makoto's watched Jean out of the corner of her eye for a while, and it's clear he's struggling. When he finally puts the cap back on the marker she makes her way over to the pier, dropping down next to him but tucking her legs underneath her rather than letting them dangling in the water.

"Don't know where to start?"

[angewiesen]

"Eh?"

Jean raised his head to look at Makoto, and was immediately hit with the 'oh shit, pretty girl' feeling that any boy his age would experience when suddenly faced with an attractive young lady. At first glance, Makoto looked a lot like Mikasa (straight, dark hair, dark eyes, the same facial structure) so he couldn't help himself. He quickly raised a hand to his head to try and straighten out his hair before he replied.

"Uh... Yeah," he didn't want to freak her out or anything, so he measured his words carefully, "more than just one or two people come to mind..."

[nomorules]

"There you are!"

Ryuji's voice was recognizable at a distance, blaring over the noise of people mingling by the water and chatting among themselves. He approached, having rewarded himself with a break after pulling a buttload of candles from packs and laying them out on a foldable table, free for the taking.

In his hand was a dreaded soda--but the other boy needn't worry about this one going off like a grenade. It was a twist-off cap this time, safely defused.

"Wassup, man? Thinkin' heavy thoughts?" he asked, coming to a stop by the boy's side. He'd known for a fact Jean was one of the people in attendance, since he'd personally reminded him of the deal they'd made the month before and fully intended to make good on it.

Mentioning Japanese custom had been an idle comment some people might have forgotten about, but a promise was a promise to Ryuji. If they were both still here, they'd do something nice for July, something memorable. And here they both are.

[angewiesen]

"Hey, Ryuji," Jean suppressed an urge to roll his eyes. There was something about the guy that immediately made his skin prickle with irritation, but it was a momentary reaction, not something that lingered, "I guess you could say that. Not really sure what to do with this lantern yet."

He figured out the candle and that it was supposed to float out to see, but he didn't know how to make his memorial. There were tons of regrets he wanted to let go of, or at least make peace with, and all of those regrets weren't going to fit on a few pieces of paper.

"A lot of shit's gone down in my life," he explained, just to be clear, "and it feels like it's all happened recently too."

OTA!

[strategised]

Makoto isn't bad when it comes to artistic endeavours, though of course she's nowhere near being in the same class as someone like Yusuke. Her drawings on the sides of her lantern are precise, methodical, though perhaps a little clinical. One side shows a cityscape, the skyline of the part of Tokyo where her apartment is. Turning the lantern over, the next picture is of the silhouette of a man holding hands with two girls, one either side, one a little taller and with longer hair, the shorter girl recognisable as Makoto if one looked closely. The third side has two flowers drawn on it, the stems crossing over, a red spider lily on the left and a white chrysanthemum on the right. The final side is empty aside from where, in the very middle, Makoto has written the name of her father.

She stays by the lake for a long time, watching the lanterns bobbing on the water with her arms folded across her chest and a pensive expression on her face. There's something calming, almost hypnotic, about watching them, and Makoto feels the most peace she has in a long time as she turns away to return to the mansion.

frisk | ota

[determinedest]

[Maybe they shouldn't be here. They don't know a lot of the people here, they're rapidly starting to realize - or if they do, it's only in superficial ways. More like an imposition on something meant to be intimate.

Their work is quiet and restrained. Faint paint-strokes across the paper of a lantern, sketching out rudimentary shapes.

The first, a smiling flower with gold petals. The second, a tall, blue fish-like warrior, fiercely squinting with a single golden eye. The third, a white-furred goatlike monster, a shirt striped in yellow and green. The fourth, a man wearing a grinning cat's mask. The fifth, a skeleton, tall and lanky, with a stripe of crimson about his throat to symbolize a flowing scarf. The sixth, a small girl with short hair, bearing a sword in hand. The seventh, a boy with a baseball cap and a mess of curly hair, his grin gapped with missing front teeth.

Friends who have left, every one of them. They remember everyone who leaves.

Each one, lit and sent out across the liquid dark of the water in turn. Their gaze remains shadowed, almost deathly still but for the slow blink of hooded eyes.

They've not really allowed themself the time, really.

To grieve.]

[pleasereset]

[Asriel didn't really need to be here. There weren't any lanterns he felt he should make - after all, this place seems to bring back the dead. But he's curious what a lantern ceremony is, and he has all the free time in the world now that he couldn't leave this place. Still, despite the somber atmosphere, seeing the lake lit up with paper lanterns was an incredible sight.

He sees Frisk closer to the lake. Watches them for a while as they make their own lanterns. He... should probably let them be. It looks like they're doing something important.

After a lot of indecisiveness and hesitation, Asriel decides to give a quick hello.]

Howdy, Frisk.

[The voice is coming from behind them, and Asriel curiously glances over to see what kind of lanterns they're making.]

[eatsyourscience]

[Souji notices Frisk as he's setting his own lantern into the water. He hesitates, then lets the lantern go before straightening up to move closer to where they're standing.]

You came.

OTA!

[naughty_nurse]

[Mikan is feeling rather embarrassed - is she the only one wearing a kimono? She hadn't worn one in so long, and she thought a Japanese festival would be the perfect time. She's highly tempted to run back inside and change, but... everyone had been so nice and encouraging about her trying new things, like new outfits.

So swallowing her nerves, she writes down the names of the classmates she lost - and Wonderland friends she missed - and watches them drift away. It's a somewhat somber holiday, and yet she's smiling. This reminds her of home.]

... I hope... we can have more days like this.

[theothermrgray]

[Dorian had come by to observe the beauty of the gathering. The lanterns drifting away, joining the dead in the afterlife. It's... Symbolic, isn't it?]

[He looks over at Mikan as she sends her lanterns away, and secretly wonders if he should do the same for the painter and the actress. Would it be too revealing, though? Could anyone make a connection? Either way, the girl was decent company so he shall speak to her.]

More calm, peaceful days you mean?

[intrusivethot]

[ Oh? Akira knows that voice...

It's purely a result of how Akira chose to introduce himself to Wonderland that he has no idea what most people look like. And to be perfectly frank, events have gotten in the way of face-to-face meets with a consistency that borders on helpful with how predictable it becomes.

In that vein the lantern festival is a success in bringing folks together - many of them Japanese, of course, but he's pleased to see anyone show and make Ryuji that much more gleeful that this is working out.

With Akira's hosting duties done for by and large it does afford him a break, taking it by the waterside as a few lanterns always seem to find their way on its glassy surface every few minutes. He doesn't know that he's even the one being addressed but looks back nonetheless, hands curled around a fine cup of Leblanc coffee. ]

We can, as long as we put in the effort. [ One hand slips under his jinbei to massage at his shoulder, carrying the warmth from the mug. ] Eh, maybe on a rotation though. Keep it and peoples' bodies fresh, you know?

OTA!

[romsapience]

[Turing is silent throughout the time making their lanterns, a grim expression painted on their face. Yes, they weren't here in Wonderland for too long, so they haven't really lost anyone incredibly close. But back in Neo SF? They have indeed lost quite a few people. It would only be right to honor them now, seeing as how they didn't really have enough time to grieve in the first place.

Turing makes three lanterns. One is flashy, and looks like many newspaper articles were plastered on. This one was for Zinn, Charlie Nova, Nonya, everyone who was unessesarily killed during their investigation. The second is more subdued, and the pattern on it is certainly more abstract. This one was for Hayden, their creator, mentor, friend...father? The lantern itself was based on a painting Turing made for him that was his favorite.

They are hesitant at first to make the third one, because they actually never met her before, they only knew of her through Hayden's research notes. Still...it wouldn't be right to leave her out. So, they make a third lantern, and they make it as pink as possible. This one...was for Grace. Turing's older sister.

They continue painting their lanterns, seemingly hesitant on stopping. If they stop, they are done. If they are done, they have to let the lanterns out into sea. If they let out the lanterns into sea, then...it really would feel like they were gone for good.]

......

Late evening | Closed to Caroline and co.

[nomorules]

<sub>[Things had been looking promising. The release of the lanterns had gone off without a hitch, most people looked like they were enjoying themselves, and Ryuji had found himself laughing and letting loose more than he'd expected to from his position of having seventeen years' worth of bigger, grander Bon ceremonies under his belt.

But it's the company that makes a gathering--and this eclectic group of lost travellers is a good bunch. A strange and interesting bunch, if nothing else.

He's thinking the night's fun couldn't climb any higher from here until he waves at a smoking hot blonde along the way, and miracle of miracles, she waves back. He doesn't notice anything else amiss besides that odd quirk, that she's paying attention to him out of all of the guys to choose from. Why question a good thing? Gift horses and mouths, etc.

He still doesn't question it when she strikes up a conversation, guiding them a little further from the gathering, or when her hand falls on his shoulder, turning him just so so that their gaze snag and lock...

It's about then that things start to get a bit fuzzy at the edges.]</sub>

[persevere]

[She's played pretty nice so far. Maybe she's waiting for an opening, maybe she really just doesn't want to get caught.

Or maybe, this whole latern thing hits a little too close to home.

She'd seen them glowing from a distance and headed out to investigate. She remembers lighting her own latern for her father. Tyler's. Everyone else lit their own, for Alaric and Jenna and uncountable others.

She knows what Elena say, what Klaus would say, if they'd managed to get her here. She should light one for her Mom, solidify even further that she's alone, an orphan, that' she has no family left.

Or she could just eat this poor boy that decided to catch her attention and wave at her. Surely doing something horrible, feeding her bloodlust, would make that tiny twinge of pain fade away into the background, help her focus on pretending that it doesn't exist. To a vampire with no humanity, that seemed like the perfect solution.

Leading him away from the group is too easy, and as she reaches for him, guides his eyes to hers, her pupils constrict and she bends her will on him, smiling sweetly, even as her eyes start to fill with blood, her whites appearing almost pitch black in the darkness, the veins below shuddering beneath the skin. The tips of her fangs are stark white as they appear below her top lip when she speaks.]

Don't run. Don't scream.

[She doesn't take away his fear; she wants his heart to race, she wants him to be afraid, she wants him to squirm. Her grip tightens painfully on his shoulder, her other hand threads into his hair and pulls his head to the side, exposing his throat.

She bites with the speed of a striking cobra. It hurts. She doesn't care.]

OTA

[psio]

[ If there's one event Haru has been simultaneously looking forwards to and dreading, it's this one. The nod to toro nagashi is always going to be a welcome one, a piece of home that Ryuji has managed to bring into Wonderland almost effortlessly. From what Haru has seen, the people around seem to be getting into the swing of things when it comes to decorating and releasing their lanterns, even she's managed to get the closet to work with her and gift a light pink yukata. With her hair tied back, Haru almost looks like she belongs there.

She just can't help but wonder how many people were remembering lost loved ones, or if they were just here to take part in something different. It's difficult to not think of her father or the sudden and violent manner in which he'd died as she decorates the lantern with an amateurish UFO design. It wasn't the best flying saucer nor the most traditional of things but Haru knows her father would understand it somehow, or at least get the reference.

They'd been helping. At first it had been hard to keep hold of that thought. What if they hadn't helped? Would he still be alive? Perhaps, though even now as Haru lights the lantern and holds it lightly against her chest she can't help but accept the reality that it would most likely have happened regardless of what they'd done. Her father's killer would not have stopped just because they did.

It's been a while since Haru arrived in Wonderland and ever since she arrived she's been running around doing things and keeping busy. Today is the first day she's even allowing herself to grieve; head bowed as she keeps hold of the lantern, a tear or two managing to escape as she tries to keep some kind of composure. She wants to put the lantern on the water yet the realization is a bit much; that this is actually it, her father isn't coming back and despite the fact he'd become more and more horrible as the years had passed, he had still been her father. Letting go of the lantern is akin to acknowledging that everything had happened and her fingers dig in ever so slightly.]

I'm sorry...

[intrusivethot]

[ The feeling of displacement never quite goes away. There are moments it stares him down and is allowed to pass out of his useless ire, unable to do anything else. For their freedom of movement and from their reputation back home, their sticky circumstance, they pay for it in Wonderland with isolation from their purpose. Akira feels the sharp from under his ribs gone. He feels dulled without it, carrying that with him even as the weeks pass and he finds his chill.

It's moments like these when they are gathered and he can forget the ache a little easier. And it's moments like these - retiring from manning the refreshments he'd brought and trailing behind Haru, watching her at a reasonable distance - when it's suddenly sharp again in a new way.

He's had to lose his purpose. The same couldn't be said for his father.

Back here his tight expression is safely behind Haru, burying the sting of that failure as it tries to resurface. There's nothing to be said that hasn't already been committed to the air but Akira has a wealth of something pressing hard up his throat, never to be passed for its size. He doesn't think any of it would help anyway. There's well-meaning sentiments and then there's cold, hard facts. And bodies.

He'd passed on unburdening himself of his lamp earlier. Now seems like an okay opportunity to follow through, his geta whispering through the grass on his way to stand next to Haru and lean toward the water, releasing it carefully, fingertips lingering near to touch on the water's surface.

Did he give her enough time? Akira isn't terrible with crying and there was no mistaking the misery roiling off of her even at a distance but he didn't know her heart like the others. Akira didn't know what was okay, what to say, so he didn't.

The gunmental trim of his yukata was smooth on the pads of his fingers, fidgeting with the sleeves before risking a look at Haru head on, both an inquiry and assurance such as it can be. ]

bull-crashes your china shop, eyyy

[nomorules]

Heh, that's a great lantern. The water's so dark it's like space; it'll look like it's flyin'.

<sub>[Ryuji, coming up beside Haru, can't resist the wryly humored curl to his tone. A UFO. Okumura Foods. Some in Wonderland who'd met Futaba without seeing the inside of Okumura's Palace might think the lantern was in homage to their MIA navigator, but Ryuji knows better. It's a while back in the past for him, but he'd been there, inside her father's heart, and it's kind of perfect from what little he knew of the man.

In one of his typical garishly bright tank tops, thumbs hooked into the back pockets, his sneakers leave lattice-like treads in the soft mud by the stream as he shifts his feet, glancing at Haru almost tentatively.

He knows a little, not a lot, and wanting to comfort his friend doesn't immediately translate into how to do so.

His hand swings out like he might touch her--a pat to the back, a warm weight on a shoulder, some tangible scrap of comfort--but Ryuji is a rough-and-tumble person at the best of times and Haru looks even more soft and delicate than usual in her yukata, hair pulled off her neck. Almost as if afraid he'll ham-handedly shatter her into pieces if he touches her, he aborts the gesture, pretending like he'd been about to ruffle his hair the whole time.]</sub>

Are you-- do you...? _{[Can he do something?]} I just, uh. Was worried if you're all right.