Kol Mikaelson (
itchtokill) wrote in
asgardchrysalis2019-12-25 05:56 pm
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{Do things wholeheartedly, burn yourself up completely
Who: Anyone who wishes to attend!
What: Bonfire party/wish burning tradition
When: Tues, Dec 31, 2019 (from around dusk, up to/through dawn, or whenever everyone disperses and/or passes out)
Where: A wide-open area in the park, Skadi's district
Warnings: Possible language, alcohol (/potential underage drinking?); but overall this should be a pretty chill, PG party.

{Nights like this lead to new beginnings | Early on/mingling
The set up of the party is simple: A moderately sized bonfire is the centerpiece of the whole affair, crackling pleasantly for the whole night. There are various log benches as well as stools available for seating around the bonfire; there are various snacks and drinks (alcoholic and not, because children may attend!) adorning a couple of tables for anyone to indulge in.
The entire atmosphere of the evening is very laid-back and quiet, nothing at all extravagant. Kol will mingle with anyone who shows up and make chit-chat with all attendees, and generally be a very welcoming, and at-ease host. He's no stranger to the game of keeping guests pleased, and this is far more of an easy time than some of the more complex and large-spanned galas and balls he and his family have thrown together in years (and centures) past.

{New Year wishes spark in the heart of flames | Later night
On one of the tables, there rests a moderate stack of parchment paper and a quill pen to write down wishes for this particular part of the party. He doesn't know how many people might actually partake in this, but it's a family tradition and, though he had hard and soured relationships with all of his siblings, and things were not last left in great places with any of them, being so far away from them, with no foreseeable way back to them (and the fact that back home, he's dead, and not for the first time, might he add), has him nostalgic and missing them. Perhaps even more than them, the times before their lives were so complicated and messy.
Later in the night, he approaches the table and writes on the parchment three simple words:
He'll hang around that table for a bit, in case anyone has questions to ask or commentary to give about the act of it. It's rather straight forward, but given the very nature of everyone being from different worlds, some wildly so, he expects there could be some cause to confusions or curiosities, both.
What: Bonfire party/wish burning tradition
When: Tues, Dec 31, 2019 (from around dusk, up to/through dawn, or whenever everyone disperses and/or passes out)
Where: A wide-open area in the park, Skadi's district
Warnings: Possible language, alcohol (/potential underage drinking?); but overall this should be a pretty chill, PG party.

{Nights like this lead to new beginnings | Early on/mingling
The set up of the party is simple: A moderately sized bonfire is the centerpiece of the whole affair, crackling pleasantly for the whole night. There are various log benches as well as stools available for seating around the bonfire; there are various snacks and drinks (alcoholic and not, because children may attend!) adorning a couple of tables for anyone to indulge in.
The entire atmosphere of the evening is very laid-back and quiet, nothing at all extravagant. Kol will mingle with anyone who shows up and make chit-chat with all attendees, and generally be a very welcoming, and at-ease host. He's no stranger to the game of keeping guests pleased, and this is far more of an easy time than some of the more complex and large-spanned galas and balls he and his family have thrown together in years (and centures) past.

{New Year wishes spark in the heart of flames | Later night
On one of the tables, there rests a moderate stack of parchment paper and a quill pen to write down wishes for this particular part of the party. He doesn't know how many people might actually partake in this, but it's a family tradition and, though he had hard and soured relationships with all of his siblings, and things were not last left in great places with any of them, being so far away from them, with no foreseeable way back to them (and the fact that back home, he's dead, and not for the first time, might he add), has him nostalgic and missing them. Perhaps even more than them, the times before their lives were so complicated and messy.
Later in the night, he approaches the table and writes on the parchment three simple words:
To new beginnings.He sets the pen down, folds the paper in half, and holds it tucked between two fingers for a long moment. He doesn't move or speak, or seem to take note of much around him for that moment; he only stares into the dancing flames for those eternally long seconds. And, finally tearing away from his fixation, he steps forward and puts the paper into the fire and watches it burn, the tiniest of tugs upward of one corner of his mouth.
He'll hang around that table for a bit, in case anyone has questions to ask or commentary to give about the act of it. It's rather straight forward, but given the very nature of everyone being from different worlds, some wildly so, he expects there could be some cause to confusions or curiosities, both.
no subject
Long ago, someone--Ariadne couldn't remember who--had taught her that at any kind of gathering or party, the first place to go was where the food was being served. Not because of hunger or gluttony. But that's where the most important conversations always took place. Not that Ariadne was expecting important conversations of any kind--why would she?--but out of habit she made her way over to the tables of treats, only recognizing them in bits and pieces.
Actually, one of the best parts of encountering new cultures was always the food. So she watched what others were doing, trying to figure it all out for herself.
And if she ended up with sticky caramel on her fingers, well.
It wasn't the worst thing she'd ever done.
Late Evening
Fire wasn't Ariadne's favorite thing, but she recognized its power. Both literal and metaphorical. And she'd come to the party to participate in the ritual and ceremony. Still, she lingered away from the flames for as long as possible.
Crushed between her hands, she'd written down several resolutions--hopes and dreams--not quite sure which one she wanted to contribute.
What was most important to be in a place like this?
Well...there was one slip of paper in particular that Ariadne kept shuffling to the top of the pile:
How would she even start? She twisted the paper around her fingers. White and pink, like a Human's. That was where it would have to begin. With what she was.
Ariadne wasn't ready yet. Was she?
Late evening
Kol spots Ariadne near the fire, looking rather indecisive, a handful of papers in her hands. He smiles a bit at her apparent hesitation. He's sure to make a bit of noise-- crumpling leaves, cracking twigs under his feet-- so as not to startle her when he sidles up next to her. "You can do more than one if you like." he points out quietly.
no subject
She smiled awkwardly down at the papers in her hands. "I could," she said. "But I feel like that might be asking too much. Or overpromising. Or maybe both. I'm not sure."
You had to make a future happen, after all. She knew the bonfire wasn't magic. It wasn't going to grant wishes.
"Am I allowed to ask what you picked?" she said, looking back at him. "Or is it one of those things where you aren't supposed to tell?"
no subject
His mouth turns up at one corner, "It's no secret, if you don't want it to be." he admits. "Nothing much... just new beginnings, for me. This place is--" he pauses briefly, reconsidering his words, "well, I guess it's a third chance, rather than a second one, really." One without his family which, despite all his issue with them, feels a little more empty and hollow than he'd like. Not at all like he might have expected. Even in all his distant travels away from the group of his siblings, there were always chances that they'd come across each other again somewhere along the way. There's just something about knowing he won't see them at all, no matter how much time passes, unless the whims of this place choose any of the them, that feels...off and wrong, somehow.
no subject
It kept her alive.
Feeling impulsive, she crumpled up all of her little slips of paper into one big ball. She meant to toss them into the fire together, but they came apart in the air, falling one by one into the flames. Like fireworks.
Or snow.
Falling promises. To herself. To her new community. It was actually quite lovely.
no subject
His smile widens and brightens are her gesture, watching as each scrap of paper catches in the flames, instantly ablaze and burned to ash in seconds. "To a better year ahead, yeah?"
no subject
Admittedly, a problem with all the new people she was meeting here in Asgard.
At any rate, she decided to let it pass without comment. For the time being. But her insides were squirming with questions. Like snakes trapped in a bag that just wanted to wriggle free.
"Do you think we'll be here another whole year?" she asked. "Not that I mind this place so much, but there are people depending on me back home. I think."
no subject
"I don't know," he admits, hands clasped behind his back as he slowly circles the fire, eyes focused on the dancing flames as he considers what she's asked. "I suppose it depends on how quickly the Gods can put together some sort of way to fix it all. Odin seems intent on finding the solution to get everyone home. Determined enough that he won't look to giving anyone a choice, if it comes down to it."
He doesn't think it was in malice that the deity had made such statements; for all that Kol has seen thus far, Odin seems rather benevolent. But that doesn't mean he won't make a harsh decision for the greater displaced community at large. The many versus the few, etcetera. Kol finds the idea unpleasant, but not unreasonable.
no subject
Admittedly, Ariadne was pretty sure she knew where she was going. Or, perhaps, where she needed to go. But she also knew that there were plenty of people here--plenty of people--who were probably better off in Asgard than any place they happened to originate from.
And she didn't know him well, but she had the sense that Kol was one of those people.
She frowned a little bit. "Somehow, that doesn't seem fair either. Like giving someone a taste of honey, then telling them they can never have it again."
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She didn't. But that wasn't the point.
Sighing, Ariadne shook her head. "I know it's not proper to question the gods. But sometimes..."
Sometimes, she wondered just how powerful--or wise--they really were.
A sentiment she knew better to put into words.
"But I guess it's academic, anyway. We're still stuck here until anyone says otherwise. We need to make the best of it."
no subject
He nods a bit, "Aye, we are, and I'm not finding it hard so far. But I suppose, all things considered, it's been rather calm since I arrived."
no subject
It was disappointing to think that they would let that potential just...god.
Like the gods of her mother, she supposed, as she folded her arms around each other, chilled in the light of the fire. They'd let such cruelty unfold for her family. Never mind how faithful her mother had been. How ardent. How true.
"No," she said softly. "I haven't lived a life full of fairness. But if I were the one in charge of making the decisions..."
But she wasn't. She never would be.
no subject
He chuckles softly and shakes his head. "I can't tell you how many times in my life, I've had that exact same thought.... my brothers were bad to steal my choices and agency away from me when I stepped outside of their predetermined lines. Now that I'm here, I have more power over my own decisions and I find it... quite freeing, actually. Even if there are still some general rules and guidelines to follow, it's different than having everything I do so harshly judged."
no subject
More and more of that cock-eyed optimist was starting to show. But Ariadne didn't mind. She hid so many truths about herself.
This one could show.
"That's why I was thinking so carefully about which paper I threw in the fire. I want to be held accountable for my actions. Hopefully, it'll make me a better person."
no subject
"What was one of them?" he asks curiously, head tilted a bit to look at her. "If you don't mind my asking." He would accept it, if she decided she didn't want to share it with him, but he can help being curious, especially after admitting his own to her.
no subject
Did it make sense to her? Not at all, especially the way Peter tried to explain it. She just didn't get how you could only believe in one god, but split it up into three parts? And say that one part was sometimes mortal?
But who was she to judge?
"I want to try a lot of new things in the new year," she continued. "Jim told me about something called a 'bubble bath' that sounds very interesting. And, of course, this ritual of yours..."
Ivar "The Boneless" Ragnarsson | OTA
Now this is a celebration he can get behind. It reminds him an awful lot of home, minus any sort of mushrooms for the guests to consume. Maybe if Klaus shows up even that will change. He limps over and grabs some food plus a large tankard of ale before sitting down on one of the wooden trunks serving as stools around the fire.
He unlatches his leg braces and props them up against the side of his seat, making his intentions to stay there for the long haul clear, before he starts gnawing on some sort of vegetable appetizer-looking things on his plate. He'll be drinking a lot of ale while he lets the fire seep into his bones.
Warmth always does him a world of good, helping the aches and pains that plague him constantly, so he's a bit more approachable tonight then he normally is. Really, it's amazing how much of his bad temperament can be chalked up to being in pain all the time. He's sure everyone else would be grumpy too if they were hurting 24/7 as well. That murderous look on his face isn't quite so present and he seems almost calm as he snuggles deep into the fur cloak he's got draped about himself.
Late night
Ivar looks somewhat subdued as he thinks of what to put down on the paper. At least it will be burned soon enough so that he doesn't have to worry about what to put down on it. He gnaws on the end of the quill, shredding the feather fragments and making the rest damp as he thinks. Finally, he writes down one phrase in quick, decisive runes. If anyone catches a glimpse at the parchment, they'll see what he's written.
Not to burn everything I touch.
It's a good resolution to make, even if he highly doubts his ability to be able to keep it. Ivar's personality just naturally ranges towards self-destructive behavior. Then again, he's never actually made much of an attempt to change towards something else. Maybe this time will finally be different.
He tosses it into the fire and the light reflects in his beautiful eyes. He's pensive and a bit subdued now, much more so then Ivar is ever warranted to be.
Early evening
Kol is doing his best to play gracious host, to speak at least once to everyone that has chosen to attend his small gathering. So far, it's been rather easy, as people slowly trickle in. He spots a bloke he hasn't spoken to yet and wanders over to where the other is sat. "Enjoying yourself well enough so far, then?" he asks casually, sipping at the drink in his hand.
no subject
Surely nothing too terrible would happen during the holidays, right?
"It reminds me a little of home," he says finally, taking a deep swig of his ale. "All that's missing is some shoes to fill with gifts and some weapons being thrown." Yule was never a dull affair, especially where the Ragnarssons were concerned.
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"I'm sure there's something we could throw, if it'd make you feel more at home," he chuckles softly-- but it's sort of hard to tell if he means it as a joke, exactly. It would certainly liven things up, wouldn't it?
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It's likewise ambiguous if Ivar is joking or not. His idea of a good party is one where a little blood ends up getting shed because life is far too short to waste on dull times.
later!
But Kol doesn't even keep his words. He writes them and burns them, and while burning personal belongings isn't particularly new to Honir, he's still brightly curious as he stands next to the human by the bonfire.
"Is it fun?"
It certainly looks fun! But maybe it's best to ask first for this one.
no subject
"You could give it a go," he suggests, grinning a bit. One of the Gods interested in something completely mundane from a very human tradition he hadn't partook in, in a literal age was incredibly flattering.