MM-Vocalise [Invite]

[NPC]

~~~~~

Winter had taken hold of the small town, and its sights and sounds could be had all around. This was a place of happiness, of simplicity. A glance around, at the manner of dress, technology, and building, and so forth, would peg it as being in the American northeast, in the nineteenth century. The visitors were dressed for it too, in heavy coats and the fashions of the time. Children laughed as they played in the snow, watched with careful eyes by their parents and caretakers; but the adults laughed as well, and danced, and had lively conversations with one another. They were friendly, as well; they waved at the strangers as they passed through the town, on foot, their progress slow and easy.

Overhead, sprinklings of stars twinkled brightly against a clear night sky, with a moon that seemed to shine just as brightly. There was a cold breeze, however, which made the adults pull their coat collars up close, and bundle up their children too. Sledges pulled along the street past the walking strangers, their little bells ringing merrily, almost a song to the ear. The walk was pleasant enough, and they had each other for company, even if they did not know each other. Their unfamiliarity with the town would be common ground.

They were on their way to a wedding. The wedding of a friend, or a colleague, or a relative - it didn't matter. The celebration was all around them, and it seemed to heighten as they drew closer to the church, the sledges providing fitting sound for the way, and a trail of laughing and cheering children sending them on.

~~~~~

[Alice Taylor]

Alice was not a so called "winter person". She was born during the beginning of summer, and despite living her early life in Canada, enjoyed warmth over chills. Big winter coats were too heavy and bulky and made it hard to play on the playground. As much as she hated it, little Alice would rather be stuck indoors watching the news with Dad than to make snowmen with the neighbours. Alice wasn't fond of snowball fights either, nor making snow angels, nor---

A stray snowball from a roadside snowball fight amongst the town's children flew straight for Alice's face, interrupting her thoughts. Instinctively, her telekinetic shield went up, and the snowball impacted the invisible protective layer with a soft thud, just a couple inches from her right cheek. The crumpling snow slid lazily down her puffy dress. The bonnet Alice wore, royal blue with colourful flowers pinned to the side, kept her blonde, curly hair safe from the gusts of icy wind. She had on a warm and heavy cloak, but underneath was a sapphire blue dress with the collars way too wide and merely hanging off the sides of her shoulders, with a corset under that which was knotted up too tightly.

Looking towards the direction of the snowball, there was now a woman scolding her children, as the guilty parties looked sheepish and stared at their boots. Alice had to assure the lady that she was fine, that she AND her child were both fine, and no harm was done.

Wrapped up in a soft and fuzzy blanket was little Sharon, age five months. Winter annoyed Alice, but Sharon absolutely despised winter. The little baby would not stop fidgeting in Alice's arms, as though the cold sensation was somehow due to being wrapped in the warm blanket. Sharon never cried though. She knew that Alice always understood her, even if she spoke no words. With telepathy, Alice could see what Sharon was thinking and feeling, and right now Sharon was confused and frustrated by the temperature, even though most of her body was warm. Alice held Sharon's little face up to hers, and planted a soft little kiss on the child's cheek. Sharon smiled. With that kiss, Alice transmitted the idea of seasons to Sharon's mind, a fleeting flood of images, of sunny summer days, of autumn leaves, of snow-covered winter scenery, and of blooming spring flowers. Sharon wouldn't be able to retain the knowledge, or anything that Alice transmitted to her for longer than a second, but she did know that what she was surrounded by, this Winter Wonderland, was beautiful.

Huh, guess winter is beautiful after all, thought Alice, returning her smiling daughter in her arms back to a cradling position. Alice's telekinesis was sweeping the snow before her aside. She would rather not slip before getting to the wedding, and she didn't want to be the reason to hold up her companions, all of whom were attending the same matrimony. Alice had walked ahead of the group, sweeping as she went. She looked back to ensure her companions were not far behind.

[Brogan Kilvayne]

Where ere thou hast been,
here or in yon world manifest?
Canst thou tell what is,
Or what was, or what is to come?

Brogan had seen many ages, many dramas of the human spirit playing out to their ending. He had lived for centuries, millennia...he had wore many names. He was ancient, forlorn and seeking absolution. The world was changing all the time, yet he was still the same. Still a constant wanderer, a noble savage living in a world that wanted so badly to leave him behind. But that wasn't his destiny. He was in it for the long haul, and he had to follow the path set forth by history unfolding around him. Unless he took the reigns once again, and made it follow his lead. This was not beyond the realm of possibilities.

The northeast winter wind was biting his face, clawing at his flesh. But he had rode into the storm of a battle a thousand times, in Hyperborean climes and Mediterranean lands alike. He had waged war in Sweden, Norway, Scotland, Germany and Northern France. He was certainly no stranger to Arctic conditions. He actually felt at home in such places.

This town he had never been to, had at least the offer of a winter to comfort him, it seemed. There were children at play in the fresh snow, and people going about their business. Their lives were so short, but so bright because of that. Brogan envied them. They would not likely see their homes passed on to other hands, their town deserted, their cities burning, and their world dying. These things Brogan had witnessed countless times, and he knew they would happen again. The human masses had learned so little for all their suffering. It was the tragedy of this thing called humanity.

But this was nigh the time of Yule, and Brogan was wont to approach that time with some degree of joy in his heart. This year, he had cause to celebrate in abundance. A good friend he had made recently was getting married, and the happy couple had invited Brogan to the affair. It was a fine thing, to attend a wedding in wintertime. Defy the dark and deathly cold with a celebration of life and love. Brogan respected that notion. He sighed, as he noticed a pretty blond girl dodging snowballs nearby.

"To be sure, the sport of children has casualties 'twould seem."

The blond girl and her child had been leading this pilgrimage, for little to no apparent reason. She was displaying Godsends, as though it were quite normal.

Members of his kind would baffle him for many moons to come, no doubt. The feel of the times had not faded from recollection, so it was somewhat expected that his unknown companion would exercise caution. He moved close to her, and gave his counsel cautiously.

"It is not fitting to display such gifts," Brogan warned, his eyes scanning the area for those who might seek to escalate matters."

[Marshall Quatrevaux]

Winter was not something Marshall was accustomed to. Not this thick a winter, at least. The show went up past his boots in some places, and was drifting into his face, dotting his coat, settling on his eyelashes. He enjoyed it, in a way - it was a nice change from the warmth he was accustomed to. Besides, the coat was snug enough, and he rarely had the opportunity to wear such a fine coat.

One of his former colleagues was getting married, and that merited a trip through this town and, he presumed, many like it; he could not quite differentiate them nor remember them. He'd left his own fiancée behind to care for their adopted daughter, as Sammie still could be left alone for so long a period of time, yet could not have made the long trip comfortably. He missed them already, however, and, though he would enjoy the wedding, he would be glad to return home and spend time with them again.

He was traveling in the company of others, of relative strangers. A large, burly man was also on his way to the wedding, as was a young woman with a small child in her arms. The baby seemed to hardly complain, which Marshall found odd but helpful.The walk would hardly have been bearable had the opposite been true, and it would have upset the cheer and peace of the town as well. The children were throwing snowballs, one of which hit Marshall's leg. In response, Marshall stopped to ball up some snow in his gloved hands, then toss it lightly at the perpetrator. The little boy laughed and cheered at Marshall as Marshall waved and continued on.

Marshall saw the same happen to the blonde, except the snowball splashed before hitting as though coming up against some kind of screen. That made him frown. Marshall could do unnatural things, but he never made them public. To each his own, he supposed. But the burly man offered a very similar comment to what Marshall was thinking, and Marshall nodded slightly.

She was clearing a path through the snow. Marshall could have done the same, but in a different way; but he did not mind walking through the snowdrifts, and he did not feel like making a show of his own strange capabilities. Besides, he could see the church up ahead. "We're almost there, I believe," he remarked, gesturing to where the church had been decorated with flowers, and a small party forming outside of it, as the couple had chosen to hold the ceremony outside, among the snow and the townspeople.

[NPC]

The church party up ahead was none other than the wedding party the visitors were looking for. The bride herself had worn a billowing white gown, complete with flourishes of lace along the shoulders and hems. The groom was dressed in his best suit, simple but elegant, and well-fitted. The groom stood near the church's entrance, with the priest, and the rest of the group gathered on two sides, forming an aisle. There were few attendants; both the bride and groom had lost many family members to illness or old age, and so were mostly surrounded by friends.

The bride, who was preparing to make her way along that aisle, paused to greet the three - four, counting Sharon - with a radiant smile. She gestured for them to join the group. "My dear friends, I am so glad you have managed the trip. You all look very well. Alice, is this little Sharon? She's lovely." She approached to have a look at the baby, then stepped back toward the aisle, taking a deep breath as the golden wedding bells began to ring, a flowing, melodic sound. A pair of doves flew overhead, breaking the night sky, as if to perch on the moon. "Everything is beautiful," the young woman murmured, taking Brogan's and Marshall's hands each. "I'm so happy. Thank you all for sharing in my joy." And with a beaming, nervous smile at her friends and family, the bride began her walk, each step taking her closer to her groom at the end of the aisle.

[Marshall Quatrevaux]

The cold wind bit at Marshall’s skin, and he wrapped his arms about himself more tightly as they walked. Shortly, they came upon the wedding party, and the blushing bride greeted them warmly, taking his and Brogan’s hands for a moment before beginning her walk down the aisle. Marshall stepped closer to the crowd, mostly to watch the ceremony but also partly for warmth, and smiled to himself as she drew ever closer to her groom. He could hardly imagine such a feeling - even though he would experience it soon, when Jessica made her own walk down the aisle to join with him in marriage. It would be the happiest day of his life, he was certain.

Albeit maybe not a winter day for his wedding, he thought.

[Brogan Kilvayne]

Nothing shall last,and there are things that shall never change.
History is written in blood, yet are battles really lost on the battlefields?
Canst thou tell me whence thou comest,and where thou goest, and what is,
Or what was, or what is to come? For everything remains as it never was.

"My dear friends, I am so glad you have managed the trip. You all look very well. Alice, is this little Sharon? She's lovely."

The bride greeted the party with joy in her eyes. Such a sight to behold, a young fair maiden in love. It was always the way of the world, a mixture of pain and joy. He had long ago learned to live in these moments, understanding the significance of each human life, and all human events. Understanding the significance of the planet itself, and the history of life on the planet. He was not so old to have seen humanity evolving from other primates, but he had seen the rise and fall of civilizations, he had seen clashes of worlds. What has history for others...were memories for him.

"Everything is beautiful,"

"Yes it is, and the bride moreso," Brogan said, as she clasped his hand.

"I'm so happy. Thank you all for sharing in my joy."

"It is a privilege to witness this moment," Brogan said.

And all the moments of thousands of human lives to follow, he thought to himself. He took his seat, and watched the woman moving toward her future. Would it be happy? Would it be full of pain and sorrows as yet unknown? Somewhere in between? Brogan knew it would likely be the latter.

[NPC]

The happy bride had almost reached the groom and the priest when a sudden sound shook her, and then made her freeze in place. The other attendees all looked up, their heads shooting toward the source of the sound. A cacophony of loud, terrible sounds was coming from the bells at the top of the cathedral’s tower, To every ear it would sound like an alarm - a sound of danger, a ringing of fury, of portent.

And soon, the cause of that ringing became frightfully apparent.

Streams of ghouls crawled down from the tower, and, if one looked closely enough, one could see the source of those ghouls; but the ghouls themselves were a fright to look upon, such that one might not wish to see what was beyond them; however, if one dared, one would observe their king, a large, foreboding thing with an iron crown to match the bells. It was he who rang the bells, rolling and tolling them as he yelled and sang, as the ghouls swept over the wedding party and the town, and every single being there fainted, falling to the ground, and breathing their last breaths, and the last sounds they heard were the moaning and the groaning of the bells.

~~~fin NPC~~~