hadriel_logs | Event Log: Home Sweet Home

Entry tags:

Event Log: Home Sweet Home

Who: All characters participating in the event
What: The event log for the Home Sweet Home event
Where: All over the city
When: June 20th-July 2nd
Warnings: Nothing bad could ever happen now that you're home

It could happen at any moment- any action you do could be cut short by a sudden trancelike state, and so hopefully it happens when you're safe in your surroundings. And of course you're safe... after all, what could happen to you now that you're finally home?

Whether you don't remember Hadriel at all, or you just believe that this entire ordeal is over, you're home for good now, which is something worth celebrating. What happens in your home? Are you treated like royalty or just cast aside and forgotten? How are your friends doing? Your family? Everything is just as it should be and it's easy to get lost in it, even for an unlucky onlooker who may find themselves drawn into your trance and able to interact with you as you mill about your world and your reality.

Snapping out of it is the only way to end this trance, and you've got to eat and sleep at some point, but how can you go back now that you've been teased with what you desire (or maybe even fear) the most?

► This log covers June 20th-July 2nd.
► Feel free to make your own logs as well
► Please tag headers of threads with content warnings where they apply
► Please put your character's name and open/closed in the subject line of your starters!
► If you die of homesickness let us know here.

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"I do." But she'll follow that conversation thread up in a bit, because for now she's eagerly watching the bartender work. What is this strange mix of things Rey has asked for? The spices look exciting, though, and Caedra can't argue with brandy.

And then her mouth opens a little, and spreads to a grin, at the sight of the flames. It's absolutely beautiful, and the aroma it gives off brings back old, but not necessarily unpleasant, memories. She's always loved the taste and scent of cinnamon, cardamom, clove - it's a home she doesn't know anymore but finds vaguely comforting nonetheless.

"Good choice," she replies as she eagerly takes the glass. Noting that this place let her retain the use of her blade earlier, she cautiously sips at the cocktail before it has finished smoldering - and is rewarded by something very drinkable that doesn't seem to actually singe her in the slightest. Very, very good.

"You know, so many people have tried to order drinks for me in the last month? You're the only one who's gotten it right."

For now, she lets it go. This is something they can figure out if/when it becomes more relevant.

Besides, flaming drink.

Rey had heard of a drink from Singapore that's very similar, a clever mixture of spices and hard liquor, with a pretty fire on top. But this one keeps going, only dared by those who don't mind the heat, and there are a surprising few. Grinders love that sort of stuff.

"Seriously? Must be getting better at this bartending thing." More so than Rey thought, anyway. It wasn't her first choice to ever do, but... she's enjoying it. A lot more than she believed she ever would, even.

She just scoffs despite herself, propping her chin in her hand as she mulls over what she wants. Technically, she's paying, but technically Chicago is long gone by now, as far as Rey knows, in the wake of the attack IV had brought to various cities with her synthetics. She wants to appreciate what's here while it's still palpable enough to experience it.

Ssh don't tell her the fire is tolerable by mortals too. She's loving what she believes to be her resistance to the flames fully restored, against the will of those ridiculous not-gods.

"Well, or perhaps the others just have a poor sense of who I am and ordered instead something they thought they themselves would like, in the hope I would share their taste. A common mistake." Poor little mortals, all so shortsighted and naive. Perhaps barring one or two who manage somehow to figure things out beyond the usual mental abilities of their species.

She has another sip as she lounges against the bar, waiting on Rey. "The stripper though, yes - have you not met Alice Ayres? She seems very willing to be of service. I had wanted to include her in the fighting ring as entertainment between matches, but I'm having trouble finding enough fighters," she says with a shrug.

Considering it is not a widely popular drink, Rey is fortunately not inclined to specify. Live your dream, Caedra -- even if it is actually Rey's.

"You know, you're probably right. So humor me, what did they think you liked?" Because it's good to know more about your clientele, right?

Rey orders something hot and spicy for herself then. Something that she can't just easily make in her own bar. This way she can at least get some enjoyment out of this memory.

She arches a brow at Caedra mentioning a fighting ring. That sort of thing would be right up her alley, but Rey isn't interested in that line of business, least of all as entertainment. Not when she's content with what she has going for her already.

"Mn, no, never met her. But that doesn't sound like a bad deal, if she's willing." And that's if.

"I hardly remember. Mead, once. Too sweet. Ianchus tried to find something that tasted like what he called 'absinthe' but I really don't like anise. What else... well, this doesn't quite count, but Laura snapped at me for asking about coffee liqueur, even though it probably wouldn't be hard to make. But that child is full of hatred for me, so it probably wouldn't have mattered what I asked for."

She shrugs, clearly not bothered by any of this. Her current drink is excellent, and she keeps idly watching that dancer between sips, imagining the contrasting sensation between warm flesh and cold metal. Hmm. Nice.

That just about makes Rey bark a laugh. "Sounds like they should have asked you what you liked first. No one in their right mind would offer absinthe or mead if you said you dislike sweetness."

Look at her, judging people for making wrong choices in picking someone's favorite alcoholic drink. Rey doesn't mind sweet herself, but she indulges in flavors every chance she gets, be it sugary, bitter, sour, spicy, dry...

"Coffee liqueur isn't that hard to make, so long as we've actually got coffee. But you probably shouldn't be expecting Laura to serve you anything at all."

Just telling Caedra like it is. Rey can't even blame Laura for making that call, and won't fight her on the subject.

"Oh, I know, I just thought I'd ask her if there was any around. She's so unreasonably offended by my very existence, though." Caedra shrugs. "I even tried to show her how easy it is for me to reflavor drinks, but she wasn't interested."

Yeah, that's right. Caedra can make her own damn coffee liqueur if she wants as long as she has something to start with. It's not really the same thing but it tastes the same and that's all that matters. But she shrugs the topic of Laura off as casually as she had at the time. Laura wasn't even one of the ones she had managed to kill, so it's even more ridiculous to her that the girl is as angry as she is.

It isn't surprising to hear that Laura isn't too happy with Caedra's existence, so much so that Rey could hardly consider it 'unreasonable'. But if Caedra's demeanor is anything to go by, she doesn't understand, or chooses not to care. Unfortunately, kicking someone like Caedra out, like Sato, would be damn near impossible, and Rey isn't above considering the potential ramifications of doing so.

"Most people are not the 'forgive and forget' types." Rey sure as hell isn't, but she's just better at acting like it.

She warily takes a sip after a rocks glass slides her way from the bartender, containing a golden colored liquor.

"It's not like I killed her. Even if I did, they all come back anyway. It's not like here, where, you know. I could kill everyone in this room and take all their souls for myself, and they'd be gone forever," she explains casually.

Well, that would be true in a version of 'here' anyway. The dream is making it hard to tell exactly what's real and what's not. She knows enough to know this isn't somewhere she can stay forever. She'll get drawn back to that awful city and have to some day find a way here herself if she really wants to cause some damage. But it certainly feels real.

Her glass is swiftly approaching empty. This drink goes down easy.

"Some of us just don't see death being so simple just because there's a guy who can resurrect people."

Rey still doesn't like entertaining the notion of what would happen to Nick if he ever meets his end around here. The gods are horrible at understanding human anatomy -- could they do the same for a synthetic? Would they even want to, knowing how closely similar he is to the race that eradicated most of their entire species...?

And that doesn't take into account the other disturbing possibilities Rey has mulled over, such as how the resurrections work. Are the dead given new bodies, or are the bodies reformed? What would happen if someone were to somehow have their entire corpse obliterated from existence? Does Hope have a pile of dead bodies of all the people who died somewhere?

She'd ask the god himself, but Rey isn't sure if she'd like to hear the answer.

"No, I think the problem is they're all too simple to see the bigger picture, but I suppose that's all I can expect from a bunch of simrevi."

She prefers her tongue to others, and fights translation when she's feeling particular about a word, but this is Rey's dream, after all, and whatever merging of consciousness has occurred to allow this to happen also helpfully shares the meaning of the word, the intent behind it, rather than the direct correlate. Abyssal is a language of nuance and the word for bug is an obvious slur against all of those poor denizens of material worlds who breed and multiply and die without any greater awareness of what goes on in the multiverse around them.

A lot of meaning for three syllables.

"I'll have another of these," she says, meanwhile, as she turns to the bartender and gestures to her nearly-empty glass.

"And what is the bigger picture to you?"

It can't hurt to try and figure out how Caedra thinks. After all, Rey has been a kill-crazy monster herself. She still remembers what it's like to relish in it... much as she despises it. There are downsides to having a quantum memory that doesn't forget anything.

Glass in hand, Rey turns and presses her back to the bar counter as the bartender prepares Caedra a second flaming drink. She takes a sip of her own, watching the dancer on the stage.

She finishes off the cocktail just in time for the second, and smiles into the flames as she takes it into her hands.

"That they don't matter. And maybe to some extent you fit in that category, but it's hard to know since I'm not well-acquainted with your kind."

She has a sip, then continues.

"Do you often spend time considering the value of lives of individual ants? Or - oysters, perhaps? Some little, insignificant, short-lived thing that yet produces something of value. I imagine not, right? Nobody buys a string of pearls and worries about the oysters."

That was about the answer she expected, but still, interesting. Some would probably argue that Rey isn't as expendable as she thinks she is. IV sure seems to have a differing opinion on that, in her belief that Rey is a walking example of an artificial soul.

But that isn't the point.

"Maybe not, but you can still value someone even knowing that the world will go on without them," Rey points out. "Doubt you'd be talking that way about the life of your son, who might not matter to the millions of others out there. He obviously matters to you, though."

Rey knows she's likely treading on dangerous waters here now. While Caedra won't be able to lash out or harm her here, it would be another matter when they're both awake. But that doesn't matter. Caedra was the one who told her about her son, about how he was treated, and the mere notion that he could be seen as expendable and insignificant to someone would likely not sit well with a mother. At least, that's what Undine would probably think.

"For someone who has a capacity to love and defend it so strongly as you do, it really sounds like you enjoy making others fucking miserable. Sounds sort of contradictory, don't you think? Hypocritical, even."

Caedra's eyes snap to Rey's at the mention of her son, but she waits, and listens. Rey doesn't understand, as it quickly becomes clear. Can't. Her perspective is a mortal one, even if she may not have any sort of soul and yet will likely outlive most of them.

"My son was never one of them. And nothing I said makes me a hypocrite - but even if I am, I don't care. I don't live my life trying to hold myself to any standard but my own."

Meanwhile so many of these people have the most absurd little social customs. With lives so short, why do they bother imposing so many restrictions on themselves? It's absurd.

At least she doesn't deny the hypocrisy of it -- mostly. In a way, Rey is the same. Her expression is unwavering, neutral as she continues staring at the stage, her focus no longer on the dancer but the shapes. Just shapes.

"And what standard is that? That your life and the lives only you cherish have more meaning than others? That's just an excuse to make yourself feel better, that you're not an ant just like every other life in the universe, down to the microscopic organisms. That's just self-important and vain."

She downs the rest of her drink. Maybe the bottom of it will tell her where all this is coming from so suddenly.

Rey's attempts at drawing more information from Caedra only lead to her shaking her head with a small smile. The bait isn't good enough for her to rise to it. Her words are no excuse - they're backed by the will of the Abyss itself, the first entity in the whole of the multiverse, that seeks to regain all of what it once was. Everything in all of the other worlds is fuel for its whirling and terrible fires.

"The lives of people like the humans around us are literally traded as currency where I'm from, Rey. That's how little they matter. That's how I know we're different."

Is all she'll say on the topic. Whatever attempts the construct is making at philosophizing, they seem to have no effect whatsoever on the pitch-eyed creature who is contentedly sipping a flaming cocktail. She's young, herself, for a demon. She knows that, and she knows that even with all this grand talk it will still take hard work and a good amount of luck to make it to the age where everything she parrots is actually true for her personally. But with the Abyss itself in every particle that makes up her mind and body, it doesn't really matter. She acts as an individual, and her individuality matters to her, but she's still part of something greater than these people can possibly comprehend.

"But that's all right. I don't expect it to make sense. So I'll be a hypocrite, I suppose, and enjoy the sight of that gorgeous dancer. Do you think she'd be interested in an afterparty?" she teases. "I'd invite you too, of course. I wouldn't want you to be left wanting."

So that's how it's going to be. Rey understands a lot better than Caedra might think. War will do that to you -- think of life as a number, all actions a statistic, everyone is expendable, civilians are a necessary casualty. When the GRIGORI program was created, it was supposed to predict the best outcome within billions of other possibilities; its financiers were displeased to find that these outcomes did not always work in their favor, and thus the program had to be cut. How many people died because of a statistic that proved the GRIGORI right?

A century living as different women tends to put things into perspective. Things that Rey wouldn't have considered on their own without those experiences in her head. Caedra doesn't have that. She hasn't seen the things Rey has, and Rey hasn't seen the things Caedra has. The chances of her ever seeing eye-to-eye with the demon is probably just as likely as Rey will ever want to go home and face what IV has planned for her.

Dropping the glass on the counter, Rey just huffs at Caedra's come on. She's too annoyed to be flustered.

"Whatever. If you're going to be boring and go back to your casual flirty high horse routine, fine. Not interested in this song and dance right now."

Contrary to what she just said, the music is still raging on when Rey turns heel and heads out the door. Caedra might humor a salacious afterparty with a grind-dancer, but it won't be happening at all in the absence of the dreamer.

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Event Log: Home Sweet Home

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