hadriel_logs | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Who: Open to everyone
What: #TeamTranquillity are in it to win it. Deciding to work together, the gang has taken over the library and converted it into a space for weary residents of Hadriel to catch their breath and just take it easy amid the intensifying competition in the city to invoke one emotion or another.
Where: The Library
When: March 15th to March 21st, duration of the event.
Warnings: Will Update if necessary!

[Hadriel's library has unfortunately seen little use; the books are either unreadable or cover material so random that only ~~Hope~~ someone who completely did not understand the concept of fun would have picked those books. Little wonder it's hardly frequented by Hadriel's residents.

But it's still a library: meaning, it's got plenty of space, and plenty of peace and quiet.

So with all the chaos erupting over the city? It could make the perfect sanctuary, a place to take a breather from the emotion wars. A place where a person could unwind over a cup of coffee, tea or hot chocolate, knit a sweater in peace, or even plunge themselves into pillow/blanket fort and just take a nap. A place to relax.

A place for Tranquillity.

Which is why Team Tranquillity has taken over the library and converted it into a mini R&R. Tables and chairs have been pushed to the side to allow for floor space, and comfortable chairs, sofas and even beanie bags, all in softer pastel colours, dot the empty space. A couple of tables and chairs have been left as well, so that those in need of them can use them as they'd like. And of course, the giant pillow fort bundled in one corner for people to unceremoniously throw themselves into.

The members of Team Tranquillity are all around to ensure that your time in the Tranquillity Space is as relaxing as can be. Some members are even offering services, ranging from massages to meditation, gentle exercises to a steaming hot cup of joe. Knitting classes, advice on handling emotional stress when under torture and trauma, and even some fortune-telling for light laughs.

And it's perfectly alright to drag a beanie bag to your own personal corner and just crash there for the day. No judgement from Team Tranquillity.

A message is sent out via the network to inform Hadriel's citizens of the new place in town to get away from it all. Drop by whenever, do what you need to relax and recharge. It's a stressful world out there, and sometimes we all need to take some time to chill out, right?

Welcome, to the Tranquillity Space.]

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[Well. It can't hurt, can it? ~~Right?~~

Maketh clears her throat and sits gingerly.]

You--have a point. I would not serve Sorrow, much as he wished me to.

[She pauses.]

I'm afraid I have never done this before.

Sorrow? Hmph. Good. He has had enough from you.

[Henry sets his hands on Maketh's shoulder, a gentle weight upon them.]

You need only sit comfortably. It is I who shall work. Trust me, sister.

I trust you.

[Anything else is a detail. Maketh takes a breath and lets it out slowly.]

Well. You claim to have some skill in this, yes? Show me.

Very well.

[His touch grows firm, though not uncomfortably so, and he sweeps his hands in rhythmical strokes maintaining that even pressure, starting just below Maketh's nape. Where he feels particular tension he uses his thumbs to knead loose knots in her muscles.]

I have found it of great use in the past.

[It takes Maketh a moment to settle her breathing and relax into it. She closes her eyes and that helps a little. Henry is perhaps the only person in Hadriel she would ever allow to get this close. It would be so easy to kill someone like this. Snap their neck, slip a little knife into an exposed artery....

No. None of that right now.

She sighs, quietly. It does feel nice.]

To better know your body, I assume?

[Henry recognises it as the act of trust it is, proof of her earlier words, and smiles fondly to himself.

He cannot quite suppress a little laugh at her words, though he's perfectly aware that she means it entirely innocently.]

...To mitigate strain and stiffness of limb. Battle, marching, training... one pushes one's body hard. Thus it should be tended with the same care as arms and armour to forestall injury.

You know what I meant. [She huffs a little, but doesn't tense. It feels good. Henry knows his trade. And why shouldn't he? He commits to this like he commits to everything.] It makes sense. An injury could end you far more easily in your world than in mine.

[The Empire believed in learning by experience. Occasionally said experience involved being grievously injured and then healed until no mark remained. The lesson, however would stick. Such was the philosophy.]

That does not surprise me.

[Henry cannot help but wonder if she is ready for the realities of his home; the state of their medicine being but one of them.]

We can attempt to avoid all foreseeable pitfalls, but in the end our fate is in God's hands.

[Maketh just sighs. It's not something she wants to think about right now, the risk of dying over something seemingly minor.]

Is that a comfort to you? Your faith, I mean.

[The rhythm of Henry's hands at work falters for a split-second before recovering, a barely noticeable disruption.]

It is.

[Less so, these days, after his resurrection. This wretched place feels far from God's reach. But he's not interested in inviting sorrow by lingering on that thought.]

Are you entirely without faith?

[Naturally she won't be Christian, but come to think of it, he's never seen Maketh pray or make any overtly religious gesture. Now he's curious.]

I am.

[She opens her eyes slowly. It's something that matters to Henry, that matters in his world. Appearances. Ceremonies. Another thing she will have to learn how to perform in order to stand at his side. An advisor cannot be seen as a threat and she will have to play the part perfectly or no one will abide her advice. This is only another facet of the game. Perhaps she can practice with Henry until everything looks just as it ought to.

But it's different for Henry. That faith means something more to him, not simply a gesture performed but something honored and sincerely believed.]

I believe in what I can see, what I can do with my hands or what can be done to me. My father...

[Maketh exhales slowly.]

He prayed to the Force. Said it kept things in balance. Itani and her brother, also. They believed in that. Maybe it helped them. I don't know.

For we who hold it, faith is... a refuge when there is no earthly succor to be found. [Henry does not know if Maketh will believe that impact, however, so he adds:] I also find the familiarity of the associated rituals to be a worldly comfort. That perhaps you can understand.

[He has no doubts whatsoever that her loved ones' faith brought a measure of peace into their lives.]

I would hear more of your world's Force.

Ritual I understand. [Something unyielding and true. Maketh closes her eyes. Sometimes she wonders why all the things that once gave her comfort - drills, speeches, the certainty of the Empire - have come around to cause her nightmares in Hadriel. But that is not what Henry asked and she does not want to ruin this. It feels good to trust someone - anyone - to get this close and not hurt her. Maketh considers the issue a moment and concludes that she knows - has always known - that Henry would not hurt her.

It was never a question at all. That would have been horribly foolish of her once, to believe such a thing. And yet she does.

Maketh wonders if it feels like that, to have faith in someone you can't grasp in your hands.

Perhaps. Perhaps.]

The Force is...complicated.

[Maketh sighs, eyes still closed.]

On one hand, it is a--a power that can be taken. Those with certain bloodlines can access it. It isn't a matter of faith. Only training and discipline, and a willingness to fight. The Jedi were called monks, but they were warriors first. They ended many wars.

And on the other...my father said the Force was the spirit of the universe. Every living thing was connected through it and would eventually become one with it.

[Henry's hands continue their work as he listens. No doubt those bloodlines are highly sought after; it's almost like the divine right of kings made manifest. As for the latter...]

A grand thought.

[Henry is quiet for a brief moment as he weighs whether he should ask his next question. In the end he does.]

...Do you believe in the existence of souls?

I do not know.

[Maketh opens her eyes briefly.]

Once I would have said no. We die and that is the end of it. But now I am here, and many things that seemed impossible no longer are.

That feeling I know well. We are... irrevocably changed by our time here.

[He softly shakes his head.]

Does it offend you that you are in my prayers?

Yes.

[For better or worse. Maketh smiles just a little.]

You are my brother, and your faith gives you comfort. Why could that ever offend me?

I would not... [He pauses, searching for fitting words] unwittingly condescend you. I did not know how those without faith view such involvement.

[He huffs a gentle laugh.]

So I am gladdened by your assurances.

You're kinder than you know, brother. [To even consider such things. Maketh reaches up to squeeze his hand briefly, eyes still closed. She feels safe next to him, and relaxed despite herself.] Thank you for this.

Any time, sister.

[He leans down to momentarily press his cheek to her crown in turn.]

You need but ask.

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