#event003

the eerie colors of the dusk court’s skies made the perfect backdrop for a halloween celebration. it was not a holiday close to heart back in the spring court, but sofia had to admit that the darkness of the celebration was quite enticing. any celebration which involved costumes and masks was an opportunity to hide behind an alter persona and discover secrets that the celebratory drinks might reveal. the darkness of the dusky skies provided enough opportunities to hide in the shadows and limit her visibility when hiding was not an option.

she stepped into the gardens of the palace, doing her utmost to withhold a scoff at the thought of how bland they looked compared to the spring court’s. the thought of home brought back a wave of desperation. she was not one to feel homesick but the uncertainties and unexpected events made her long to be back in their court. the candle that she held in her hands was meant to be lit in celebration, yet a part of her hoped that the mother would mistake it for an offering to restore the world back to how it was meant to be. there was a bank of information she had to discover in this new court, one she never even imagined she would ever have to, and with so many people around it was always challenging to filter real information from mere gossip.

she stepped forward in the dim light of the twinkling fairy lights, unlit candle held between her lithe fingers, and reached out to tilt the candle over to another burning one’s wick. it seemed like someone had the same idea as her, as they both aimed for the same candle at the same time. “ pardon me. go ahead, i will light mine up after you.”

@ofcourtfablesarchive

grief was a funny thing. 

sometimes it snuck up on you - like when she was tending to the garden her mother had spent the past three decades cultivating, and she found a particular flower her mother had been so interested in showing off, teaching madison about it’s particular uses. or when she pulled her father’s favorite mug out of the cabinet - the impulse to smash it warring with the desire to weep, because he was a terrible man but he was still her father. 

the vigil seemed like a nice gesture. there had been one, after the original insurrection, but madison hadn’t made it to that one. she’d been shell shocked, really, keeping herself and logan at home as they closed the door to their parents room and slowly put away some of the evidence of their existence around the house. 

but that was months ago now, and when logan had requested that they attend - spurred on by the resurgence of their oldest sister, she was sure - madison had kissed the top of her head, assuring her that of course they could go.

madison sat on the grass, logan writing a goodbye note to their parents on the side of a lantern. she was getting more comfortable talking about them, asking madison about things, but there was still so much she didn’t know. couldn’t understand. 

madison hadn’t when she was her age. 

but she watched her younger sister quietly, took in the turn of her lips that resembled her own frown, the concentration on her face the spitting image of their mother when she was focused on a difficult recipe for a pot luck. the way their whole family blended into one another, the way logan would never know so much. 

madison’s own lantern was for her sister. for the one who’d never get a chance at normal. who’d never get to join the soccer team and make it to nationals like they’d been planning since her pee-wee league in elementary school. who’d never get to dive into college brochures, seeing where in the world she wanted to go. who’d never know why their fathers death was bittersweet, a reminder that sometimes justice worked it’s way in unfamiliar ways. 

a familiar face appeared on the horizon as madison signed the side of her lantern, her loopy scrawl vibrant with the purple sharpies she’d found for her and logan. she smiled up at them - an odd expression, perhaps, considering the grief surrounding them, but this felt like as good a close to a chapter as anything. “need a pen to decorate?” she offered, holding out the few sharpies she’d brought with her. “i’ve got better colors than they do at the table they set up.” 

the last time merrick had been at one of these events, she’d been 16, rife with emotional stress, mourning the loss of a football coach who’d turned into a monster and the wife he’d needlessly murdered in cold blood. still, her mind had been a mess of hormones, the question of logan or ethan, logan or holly, holly or me running through her mind more than anything else. 

it almost brought a hollow smile to her face. the more things changed, the more they stayed the same. 

she knew her sister was around, but she had things to mourn on her own. the shared grief between all of them - lori, the rest of their friends from back home who probably hadn’t survived - it was there, and it was who she thought of mostly, but there were other, nuanced griefs inside of her. 

the loss of her carefree nature, for one. she was pretty sure that was gone, dead just like everything else, and that whoever she was now wasn’t ever going to shine quite as bright as she had even a few months ago. 

their father, who holly mourned, sure, but had never had as close a relationship with as merrick had. their mother, who they had no clue about - they’d seen no record of her being in riverside when it was ransacked, but she could have been anywhere. looking for them, looking for their aunt maya, looking for her own salvation. 

lulu. 

there were paper lanterns to light, to send into the skies, and merrick found herself with a streak of tears down her face as she lit one for her best friend. this memorial was for those they had recently lost, but she didn’t know them - not really. not inside out, not deep in her gut. when she dreamed - pleasant dreams, at least - it was still her and lulu, spring breaking in cancun merrick’s freshman year at nyu, or meeting up the summer before her senior year in madrid because lulu was backpacking through europe. how she’d changed so much - hair lighter, smile brighter, free from the constraints of small time life. how they continued to talk about one days. one day she’d come to boston with merrick and holly, one day they’d be a famous novelist duo, one day merrick would marry and have children and they’d love aunt lulu as much as they loved aunt holly. 

it’s the most grief she’s really been able to put out into the world since ethan confirmed her worst fears, that lulu wasn’t coming back to her. and it’s with a choked sob that she releases her lantern, hoping that whomever was walking towards her in the periphery of her vision was someone who could comfort, who could help her move forward. 

because that’s what she had to do. leave the past in the past, and take one step in the right direction. she wasn’t a child anymore, but she couldn’t deny that she ached for a hand to hold to help bring her into the next stage of her life. 

EVENT 003: the awakening

in the deep woods, in the early morning of beltane, a fire was lit. larger than anyone had ever attempted in these woods due to fear of angering the creatures inside. yet this was a matter of life-and-death for the townsfolk gathered around the fire, old relics dug up by emmet sallow himself held aloft in their hands. this was a matter of keeping not only the town alive, but also themselves. 

@musicalstarters​

Edgar banished the depressing thoughts from his mind and smiled widely when he spotted Bella standing a little farther from him. Picnic basket in one hand, Ed jogged over to her and spread his other arm in an invitation to hug him. “Are you ready, Caruso? This is going to be awesome.”