let the beings roar - starry night march

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  • °•:` "BLACK MAGIC" ─ The event was about two weeks overdue at this point- Not a big surprise. She hit her depression spike then was snagged from her loving home, a voice that held strength now just barely a quiet whisper- Though it did not matter. She was alive and well now, though broken and in need of mending. A porcelain doll that hit the ground too hard.

    Sunset stars shone overhead, the sky clear with drunken light. Sunny skies and clear nights were not uncommon in The Sanctuary now. A love of the people gave off a warm feel now. How sweet it was to be in a clan and be loved by the people.

    A lantern was set besides her as she waited for her members to start arriving. Nervous flares of fire started up beneath cracked paws, fidgeting and dying out in the warm gust of air that came in. She hoped her members got the message, she even sent various NPC's about and they'd talk about the Starry Night, a night of solemn and no talking (though not too hard for her) with an afterparty for allies after to talk about fairs, to check up on family, to love again. To chatter meaningless phrases into the night as they'd blurt out words that became a midnight drunken haze of sound. It was all fun in games, was it not?

    "speech"

    IM CONSIDERED UGLY FROM EVERY ANGLE


    YOU'RE THE ONLY BEAUTY I DON'T WANT TO STRANGLE

    TIRED SANCTAURY LEADER — IC OPINIONS

  • — Meadowpaw had been patiently waiting for the Starry Night March for the past two weeks, but of course things had happened in-between that made the postponement valid. Such as Silver's kidnapping and return. Among other things. But the Harbinger of Peace was just happy to see that the event was still on. It would have been a shame to just cancel it outright. There was to be no speaking during this event, instead a solemn silence. Respectful silence. Meddy could do that. But she was reminded of the rather missing forms of Sora and Soul, both of whom had disappeared not too long after their respective introductions. She missed them very much. Perhaps she would think about them tonight, and hope that they were happy wherever they were. With a flick of her tail, the cinnamon tabby walked forward to join Silverlanterns for the start. She hoped others would start appearing soon.

    I NEED MORE AFFECTION THAN YOU KNOW

    THE SANCTUARY — HARBINGER OF PEACE — PENNED BY SOLEANNA

  • Back when Chicagocrimes had been leader, when Arizonacircle had first joined the group, he had not been able to experience a starry night march for himself. That was mainly because he had not been around the prior winter and since he had gone missing at the beginning of their most recent wintry season, he had been fearful that he had entirely missed out on the opportunity. Fortunately for him, he who desired to endure all of the traditions that the Sanctuary had to offer in spite of his lack of a genuine investment in the spiritual side of it all, he was now lucky enough to get involved. From when it had been announced that they were to be holding such an event soon, restlessness had near consumed him up until that fateful night, his giddy mind only able to focus on the fact that he was to participate further though he did acknowledge the fact that the initial part of the night was not one for particular celebration hence why he does not allow his excitement to spill over into his demeanour.


    Once the time arrived, Arizonacircle in all of his withheld zeal found that he was amongst the first to actually arrive other than the vaguely familiar form of the feline leader and known face of the sweet harbinger of peace. Snapdragons of pale violet grow with curling stems and swaying petals in the gloom where his paws touch the earth, physical signs of his irritated disinterest growing in his wake though he highly doubts that anyone who would be present, other than perhaps Val, would pick up on a minute detail such as his oddly colour coded flowers. No one had been around him long enough to distinguish between the colours so he was not too bothered about attempting to hide them as he had done previously. Fiery eyes not dissimilar to the blaze of the sun as it descended below the horizon at eventide smoulder with unspoken emotions, intrigue at the prospect of participating in an event that was sacred to the group that he resided in mingling subtly with wariness at the sight of the leader. Knowing better than to let the latter feelings get the better of him, he allows a faint smile to be spread against his lips as he reminds himself that it is necessary for him to be civil that particular night out of respect.


    Wordlessly, he dips his head in greeting to the duo whilst mentally revising the events that are to unfold once the rest of the sanctuarians arrive, his gaze lingering pointedly on the lantern as he thought. They are to honour the dead claimed by the limpid lake with guiding lights cast into the depths. Depressingly melancholic is the concept yet there is something so admirable behind the thought of the act that he can not help but feel a tad emotional. Surely, it was an honour to be able to partake in such an experience and he'd be damned if he did not make the most out of it.

              四季折々の風が 君を素敵に飾る

    遠い夢のまた夢へ ボクを連れて行ってよ

  • Beneath the exhaustion, and the ache of his muscles, and the dullness of his eyes, Poison felt glad that his Clan was actually invited to something.

    The Spectrum Commander respected the request for quietness, leading the small gaggle of his Clanmates across the way to the east side of the meadow with a fragile looking paper lantern in his jaws. Everyone's lanterns looked carefully made, especially his-- he had little else to do lately, due to strict doctor's orders to take it easy, so he found enjoyment in the intricacies of making one. He hummed an off-key tune under his breath, muffled by the handle of the lantern in his jaws, until he reached the opening where the Sanctuarians were seated before him. He gave a nod of greeting to the one he knew as Silverlanterns, followed by some to the others, who he hadn't met yet. He wouldn't speak first unless spoken to. Wouldn't want to ruin a good ally event.


    "speaking"

    \ GOT A GUN AND A STRYCHNINE TWITCH \ TAGS

    DIRTY MOUTH AND THE LOOK OF DEATH———————— ☽*˚⊹

  • Now, this was right up the mystic's alley.

    If it wasn't too obvious by his name, Deathdance had always had a fascination with the dead. He considered his escape from RdicalClan to the then Kinship Circle to be a death of his own. It was when he killed his former self-- the one by the name of Blackpaw-- and became a new person in Deathdance. Metaphorically. The winged feline had a slight bounce in his step as he followed his Commander with a lantern of his own settled on his back, nestled safely between his huge black wings. It was so fascinating to him, coming to learn how someone else celebrated the dead. He was thrilled! This was a side of the purpleheart that didn't show itself often.



    "speech."



    YOU'RE NEVER GONNA FIT IN MUCH, KID —— tags.

    TEENAGERS SCARE THE LIVING SHIT OUT OF ME

  • He had been behind the scenes for this event many a time, but this would be the first time he'd see Silverlanterns hold the Starry Night March. The flame point was eager to see the event unfold, even if he wasn't entirely interested in the circumstances of it all. Death was something that he'd never truly understood the way a mortal did. He had died plenty of times during his life already, inhabiting a myriad of bodies before he was able to return to one that pretty closely resembled that of his birth body. He'd never be mourned, never buried for the final time, never welcomed into the cold embrace of the unknown. He was never going to be truly gone. He took it in stride most of the time, putting his body on the line for the sake of science, or his Clan, but sometimes it wore on him.

    He was never going to be missed because everyone who ever cared for him would be gone long before he.

    Presently he was breathing slowly, icy eyes surveying the first guests to arrive. ColouredClan, they smelled like, though he hadn't been to the place in quite a long time. Between his paws was a lantern of his own, which he idly pawed at every so often as he waited. Waited to see who really cared.


    "speaking"

    \ CRASH THOSE SHINY CYMBALS \ TAGS

    WITH THE PRESS AND THE GLAMOUR WE'LL KILL THE REVIEWS

    SPOTLIGHT ON MR. INGENUE

  • Despite being the only current member that had the most seniority out of those present in the Sanctuary, Val himself had never attended Starry Night March. He had remembered offering some ideas— namely the part about using lanterns and such to send them on their way —but he'd never attended the celebration which was... sad now that he thought about it. Val had seen is own fair share of death and while it was definitely unpleasant to witness, especially if the death was more than "unusual," he knows it is natural and that there is nothing to be done about it. The concept of death was a tricky one, that much he understood about it at least.


    The pale green doberman arrives, as perhaps expected of the once beloved deputy, and he comes with a lantern gently clamped in his jaws. His eyes were downcast, his expression ever so somber, and he offered not a word to anyone. He merely gives dips of his head in acknowledgement of other's presences before promptly seating him near Arizonacircle, his pierced ears slowly sliding forth upon his cranium. He remembered the course of the events, if not vaguely, but enough to go by and to hopefully not mess up anything. So, with patience, Val waits for the event to proceed.

    DON'T TAKE IT FROM ME, JUST BE WHO YOU ARE

    THE SANCTUARY — DEPUTY — AMNESIAC — PENNED BY YAKAN

  • ✦ ✧ ✦ Ghost was the next to arrive; he hadn't really had the chance yet to see his mother since she was taken, he didn't take part in the raid, he felt... regret. It was a weak feeling, Ghost didn't feel much after all, but the small hybrid child padded forward up to Silverlanterns, up to his mother, as he gently brushed up against her, an act of comfort. He hoped she didn't mind.


    "speaking"

    .

    —————————————


    no i don't want a battle from beginning to end

    i don't want a cycle of recycled revenge

    i don't want to follow death and all of his friends


    —————————————