The Woods, Friday at Sunset

[endsthegame]

The call of the stone had faded quietly during the early morning hours. Its energy had folded inwards, and yet outwards, calling across time and space to the furthest reaches of the multiverse.

And the closest.

When the sun began to sink towards the horizon, its calls had been answered. There was nothing left to do now but to provide what it had offered: a thin mist that rose around the stone itself, a gateway. It emanated a strange, pale white light that grew steadily in intensity.

As did the mist, which spread across the clearing and had reached every corner of it by the time darkness finally fell.

From within it, shapes emerged. They had been called, and they had come.

[[ for the dead to come forth. living folks, you can come meet your people here in this post, or elsewhere. ]]

Comments

[not-foolhardy.livejournal.com]

Unlike some, this final figure who stepped forth from the mist had little ability to pinpoint anyone's presence on the island. But Satine knew he was here, because he had called to her - whether he realized it or not.

"Now if I were Obi-Wan Kenobi, where would I be?" she wondered aloud, lifting her chin up high.

If he didn't come to her first, of course.

[daughtersmother.livejournal.com]

Margaret didn't have the gifts -- the curse -- that her daughter had, of course. That had always been the wedge driven between them, the thing that had doomed their relationship from the start. Prospero the Enchanter had enchanted her, body and soul, for a fortnight, and she'd been left with a child she didn't know how to control.

But one didn't need to be magical to find one's child. Celia had called to her, dreamt of her, and it would take more than a little mist to keep her from finding her little girl, now.

She'd left her behind once, and hadn't stopped regretting it since.

[pasunereveuse.livejournal.com]

Celia had ventured out to the woods again to look for the stone she'd found. It wasn't itching at the edge of her mind as it had yesterday, but there was something -- new. A different sort of energy. It had put her at ease to touch the stone yesterday, and today, she'd wrestled with the idea of going to seek it out again before finally lacing up a pair of boots and going out to the woods.

Try as she might, even using all of her senses, Celia couldn't find the stone a second time, though that hardly mattered. The mist caught her attention more, as did the figures emerging from it.

...and then just one figure in particular. It had been a decade and then some since she'd seen her face, but Celia would know those features anywhere.

Her own face favored this one, after all.

"...Mama?" She hated how that came out a croaked whisper, and she'd hate herself more if she was wrong.

[daughtersmother.livejournal.com]

It had been some time, then, hadn't it?

"Celia," she breathed, a wobbly smile pulling at her features. "My -- Celia."

She rushed forward, catching herself short before reaching for her daughter. She might not want to be held. She might want nothing to do with her.

But she'd called her, and Margaret hoped that the love she'd felt through that call would help heal the old wounds that she'd inflicted on her daughter.

[pasunereveuse.livejournal.com]

"Mama." She was more sure, now, but Celia could't speak louder, suddenly, around the lump that was forming in her throat. Her mother was here, alive and healthy and whole and here, and in an impulsive rush, she found herself closing the distance between them.

She was five years old, all over again, before things had gotten bad and she'd broken it all.

[daughtersmother.livejournal.com]

Margaret wrapped her arms around the girl, holding her tightly for a long moment.

"I'm sorry," she murmured into her curls. "Oh, Celia, I'm so sorry."

She pulled back after a long moment, wiping her own eyes before reaching out to swipe away Celia's tears. "Look at you," she said softly, smoothing her daughter's hair. "You grew up so beautiful. How -- Celia, how old are you?"

[frater-glacies.livejournal.com]

This particular visitor didn't have any special powers to help him pin-point his sister, but that didn't matter. She probably wasn't here anyway - yet - but he knew where he could find someone who could find her.

Christian Frost flicked the lapels of his coat into place and set off in the direction of someone who would let him yell at his idiot little sister.

[tombeparterre.livejournal.com]

A young boy of about twelve years old please pretend he's older than the icons, somewhat pale and sickly looking but in boisterous good spirits despite that, all but tumbled out of the stone into the woods. He was singing cheerfully from the moment he appeared, barefoot and dressed in tattered castoffs.

Quelqu'un vent-il jouer aux quilles?
Tout l'ancien monde s'écroula
Quand la grosse boule roula
Où vont les belles filles . . .

He had been singing when the gendarmes' bullets finally found him. It was only fitting.

"Hullo then, old rock!" Gavroche exclaimed. "You're a fine cabdriver. I tip my hat to you."

He didn't have a hat.

"Here's for your trouble, then --" and he patted the stone with one grubby hand -- "but if it's all the same to you I'm off to find my sister. So long!"

He picked himself up off the ground and marched in the first direction that suited his fancy, and as he went off he started singing again.

On est laid à Nanterre,
C'est la faute à Voltaire,
Et bête à Palaiseau,
C'est la faute à Rousseau . . .

[wontcallhimbob.livejournal.com]

Well. This wasn't precisely her first time at this. Although this time she knew it would be temporary.

"Right, so." She rubbed her hands together. "First things first - a locator spell." She grabbed a cord from her belt and tied her hair back, then got ready to start.

[sharpened_him]

Everything was so big and dark! And just a little bit scary, even if things couldn't really hurt her anymore.

Mischa peered around a bit timidly, wondering if any of these people were friendly, or maybe if one of them knew where her brother was?

[furnaceface]

Oh, hello. It wasn't every day Jono found a small child alone in the woods. He was here for Didi, but he could take a moment to... be a big softie, mostly.

//Hello, sunshine,// he greeted, crouching down a little nearby to greet her on her level. //Are you here looking for somebody?//

She felt familiar, was the thing. He would have stopped either way, but she was small and a little scared, and she felt familiar.

[sharpened_him]

Mischa's eyes got big and she took a slight step back from the very big man. But he sounded friendly in her head and he didn't seem to want to hurt her...

She nodded. "Mano brolis?" she said timidly.

[furnaceface]

Ah-- Oh. Jono blinked. That was Lithuanian. Which he remembered decently enough, if one was taking into account that he'd taken one course, ages ago, under the tutelage of...

Er... the man he was currently dating.

//Tavo brolis? Hannibal? Hannibal Lecter?//

There weren't really many other people here who spoke that as a first language. Not that he was aware of.

[sharpened_him]

Mischa's face lit up "Taip! Jūs jį žinote? Galite man pasakyti, kur jis yra?" And then, remembering her manners, "Prašom?"

[tombeparterre.livejournal.com]

Fantine would readily admit to being nervous about this; in the short time she'd had to get to know him (as opposed to what she had believed him to be when she thought he was to blame for losing her job), Monsieur Madeleine had struck her as a kind and generous man, and she trusted that he would have done his best to raise Cosette well.

Still, she had no idea what her daughter was like at this age -- Cosette had been 3 years old when Fantine left her at Montfermeil, and she hadn't seen her since.

Whatever had given her the opportunity to find out (and she wouldn't at all be surprised if Monsieur Madeleine was behind this somehow), she was grateful for it, but it was a daunting prospect all the same.

[wildandbrave]

Cosette ordinarily did her wandering early in the day, but she felt particularly drawn to the preserve this evening with no conscious understanding of why.

She certainly didn't expect to encounter the woman who had been appearing in her dreams the last several nights.

"Maman?" she got out in a bare whisper. "No, but it can't be."

[tombeparterre.livejournal.com]

"My God."

How many times had Fantine dreamed of seeing her daughter like this, as she bent over a workbench stringing together rosaries of imitation jet beads, or sat in a chilly garret corner sewing rough shirts for the soldiers at the local barracks, or tried to steel herself against the vile taunts of the men in the streets? How much had she clung to that picture in her head like an anchor, the only one she had left?

She approached slowly, her hands shaking as she reached out toward Cosette; she scarcely believed yet that this was real, and oh, how glad she was all of a sudden that whoever had seen fit to bring her back chose not to make her appear exactly as she had at the end!

"Cosette -- my little Cosette, my angel, is it really you?"

[wildandbrave]

And Cosette, with the instinctive trust that came so easily to her, believed it immediately: this was indeed her mother, impossible as that might have been anywhere but here.

"Maman," she exclaimed again, and didn't hesitate to rush forward and throw her arms around her mother's neck. "I never thought I would see you, and here you are."

[tombeparterre.livejournal.com]

Fantine pulled Cosette into a fierce hug and closed her eyes, letting the girl's eager chatter wash over her. Perhaps it had all been worth it, in the end.

"God himself only knows how, but I am. But my precious child, what a lovely young woman you've grown into!" She pulled back to arm's length, not letting go, but wanting to look, really look, at Cosette. No matter how much she had suffered with the Thénardiers -- and it had been a very long time since Fantine had been naïve enough to think they had treated her child fairly -- there was no trace of it anywhere. Not in her face, not in her demeanor.

There was no sign of the despair that she herself had known toward the end, and Fantine said a fervent prayer of thanks that Monsieur Madeleine had been there to save Cosette from that.

[life_inshadow]

Tara had been surprised when dreams of Kennedy began to intrude on the nothing that had been her afterlife. But after several days of them,she knew what she had to do.It was like she was being irresistibly summoned.

She came out of the mist and looked around her. Of course she was back on Fandom.

All that was left was to figure out why.

[living_endless]

By this point, Death had gotten used to the idea that every so often the island was going to call her back. It was the rare force within the multiverse she couldn't control or ignore; it called, and she came, and usually she was glad she had.

And so the second-oldest of the endless was back on the island, human again, and lingering on a rock at the edge of the mist as she counted birds and tried to decide what to do first.

[furnaceface]

//... Didi?//

It was his voice that reached the woods first, his range so much stronger now than it had been when he was still practically a child afraid of his own abilities. He was coming running, knowing that warm, safe feeling anywhere.

//Please, be you. I mean, I know you're you, but be my you?//

He wasn't certain he could take it if she didn't recognize him when he came tripping into view after his run through the woods.

[living_endless]

There was really only one answer to that, and it involved tackling Jono for a hug. He wasn't blue anymore, and he smelled like sulfur again,but that just made him more undeniably hers.

"'sme," she said into his shoulder. "Hey."

It seemed like there should be more to say,but for that moment all she wanted was the hug.

[furnaceface]

//S'you,// he echoed, almost in disbelief, as he pulled her close and held her tight. //Oh, lord, I've missed you.//

The hug was the important part, really, but that had to be said. It was likely that he was going to say it a lot more this weekend, too. Hell, he was probably going to be claiming a lot more hugs, too. It would be a waste not to.

[living_endless]

"Missed you too," Didi told him affectionately. "Think we could just stay like this until I have to go?"

She believed that could do it. She wanted to know everything that had happened to him, too, and eat, and go to the beach, and -- there was a lot that wasn't the same when she wasn't mortal. But that could wait until after the hug.