Tarot Beach Party

[lady_moon]

There are those of the tarot who know how to set up for a party.

Ruin had spent most of the afternoon building the bonfire. He has carefully made it much in the way he would have with the villagers of his mortal life when they would celebrate the harvests. Charity, Unity, and Skill had spent most of the day setting up food, both their sorts of foods and the sorts the sentients would be expecting.

Moon watched it all with rapt fascination, her eyes on the marshmallows Skill told her firmly she isn't allowed to touch yet. But they're white and fluffy looking and Moon is curious. Mons barks at her, warning Skill, and Moon is shooed off.

It's Fortune who puts out blankets, spread all over the beach area for everyone to use. Moon watches her family set up for a party, for guests... real guests who are coming simply to come instead of for answers. She watches Fortune set down a large stack of very warm looking towels, and she grins.

Swimming. Damian will like the swimming.

Her wolves run up and down the beach in excitement, and Moon knows it's time.

Disappearing back to Milliways, she sets it up so people can come and go as they need to, pleased with herself and her family.

Comments

[ofthefamily]

"I was trying to change the topic," Carlisle explains himself helpfully, staring at the moons instead of his company.

[bright_daughter]

Star blinked and tilted her head, only innocent curiosity upon her expression. "Why?"

[ofthefamily]

Turning back at an angle to look at the woman, "Because there was no reply to She can take of her own way that occurred to me at the moment you uttered it that would have been considered polite or appropriate."

[bright_daughter]

"Why does it need to be polite and appropriate?"

Boxes and ribbons and bows, there words all came form the same.

[ofthefamily]

"An ingrained sense of decorum around women and/or beings who know more about me than I myself do?"

[bright_daughter]

Star studied him with something that might have wanted to be consternation, but could never get there. It didn't make all that much sense to her.

History and herself and not-herself.

"What did you meant to change the topic to?"

[ofthefamily]

Finally, a resigned sort of laugh.

"I'm waiting for inspiration to strike. How about the party itself? For all of this to be constructed at a whim..."

[bright_daughter]

"We are changing. How and who and what."

Star looked toward her family, toward the riot of people gaily exchanging beyond them. Her hand raised almost to her chest, even as her eyes did not leave the people, and she referenced a world, a universe.

"Even here."

[ofthefamily]

"Becoming more powerful?"

He's not even sure what made him guess at that scenario, but it seems to make sense to Carlisle.

[bright_daughter]

"Shifting, transcending," Star said, more simply, more beautifully. There were some of them that consider it becoming more, and some who considered it a lessening, but all admitted in some part of their being they were changing.

She looked at him, with a quiet smile, silver-blue eyes tinged with remembrance, "There was a time when we were not cards."

[ofthefamily]

Carlisle debates a banal reply - We all come from something-where-One.

It doesn't get announced aloud.

Edward is laughing somewhere. Or rolling his eyes.

So he nods, not replying at all out loud to the woman or the party from his position above it.

[bright_daughter]

"You do, or can." Star said, pulling her knees up on the clear air. Her white skirts ruffled in the air, but she settled in it as though the air was made to move around her and not her through it.

[ofthefamily]

"Can what?"

[bright_daughter]

"Come from and go to a great singularity somewhere, somewhen."

[ofthefamily]

It would make sense for her to be an angel, wouldn't it?

Another nod.

"I keep you from your guests."

[bright_daughter]

But then her words were specific. You and not we, not them. They were different and apart, they always had been. Before.

"You are my guest, Carlisle."

[ofthefamily]

She has a point. Cazzo.

[bright_daughter]

"If you are uncomfortable, I can return you to the Bar or your world." It's easily made. She is the soul of comfort, if she is so rarely driven to immediacies in her actions.

[ofthefamily]

"No, it's fine."

A stronger smile. She's just trying to be nice, Carlisle. In her way.

"You are sort of an unusual woman to talk to, Star."

[bright_daughter]

"That's because I'm an Idea."

She says this with something near whimsical amusement, like a child talking about being the wind or a rainbow. Except where she's serious, and it doesn't come off as seriousness anywhere.

Her elbows settled in the air and she proper her chin on her hands. "Is it very much different?"

[ofthefamily]

"Yes. You are Abstract made whole, and I'm a dead man living. I'm not sure we can get more antithesis from the other."

[bright_daughter]

Star tilted her head, her lips pursed even while her blue-silver eyes studied his face. The rapt fascination of a child's expression with eyes that were timeless and depth-less, of colors bodies didn't come.


Rather simply refuting with,


"I like you."

[ofthefamily]

"Because I am made of rainbows."

A smile.

"I like you too."

[bright_daughter]

Her smile blew brilliant again, a laugh escaping her and causing her skin to brighten more white when the sound happened.

"You are not the only person made of rainbows."

But she was rather pleased with his other sentence, to the pinking of her cheeks. There were seldom few others in centuries, other than her family, who needed or saw her long enough to say such things.

[ofthefamily]

"I am told Emmett can be quite reminiscent of a disco ball," Carlisle quips dryly.