expiationlogs | {Mini Event} Day of Devotion

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{Mini Event} Day of Devotion

DAY OF DEVOTION

This is an entirely opt-in very casual event that has nothing to do with overarching storyline and is just an additional introductory log, and a means for characters to meet. We hope you've all had a very happy Valentine's Day week however you've chosen to spend it!

SCARVES OF LOVE

The season of affection and love of all kinds falls upon Aldrip in the wake of their festivities for Those Who Were There. As part of the celebration, what's referred to as the 'Day of Devotion,' local merchants carry a variety of wares, but none so coveted as their multicoloured scarves available in a variety of prints, designs, and fabrics. Perhaps consider picking one up and giving it to someone who's important to you. No money? No problem! Whilst Aldrip doesn't exactly work on a layaway system or akin to, you'll find the mercantile business owners are quite open to trades and other means of bartering. Maybe they'll give out a scarf or two in agreement for running some errands...

Lucky recipients of these very fashionable scarves will find themselves suspiciously open to sharing positive, warm and fuzzy, or perhaps downright amorous feelings toward the person who gifted them the scarf to begin with, regardless of whether you've known them for years or even just a couple of weeks. But don't worry—the feelings are temporary! Once the Day of Devotion comes to a natural conclusion, your feelings will return to something like normalcy and you'll still wind up with a new fashion accessory. Of course, if you've always been amorous with that special someone, you likely won't notice any sort of change.

Take the opportunity to embrace the celebration, maybe embrace one another a little bit, too, and begin forming some potentially everlasting bonds with others.

BRING PROTECTION

Not everyone is choosing to celebrate the Day of Devotion in the same way. Due to the heightened popularity of the pretty scarves, some of Aldrip's jewellers have been bitten by the green bug of jealousy. In an attempt to compete with the sales of scarves, jewellers are advertising pendants, brooches, and other assorted charms that are meant to serve as warding and protective trinkets. What are they protecting one from? It's difficult to say and the merchants aren't inclined to give a straight answer. But whether you need protection from love, personal feelings, or perhaps something more physical, they've got you covered!

If you choose to give these amulets to others, recipients of them and their related will be compelled to share their true feelings with those around them in addition to the person who gave them the protective charms. This sounds like it could be a good thing, however, that means it covers the array of positive, negative, and every shade in between, without a filter in place. Consider these accessories a potential test of friendships, familial relationships, and more.

Like the scarves, this need and desire to be truthful with your feelings will be temporary, lasting until the Day of Devotion celebration is over. But at least you'll be protected. From something. Maybe. Probably. Or not!

FLOWERS FOR ALDRIP

By now, you may be well familiar with Aldrip's variety of fields that are filled with vegetables and fruits that grace the dinner tables of the town and local cuisine. During the Day of Devotion and weeks leading up to it, you'll find that they're clearing another field and preparing the soil. What for, you won't find out until the actual day of the celebration. Once it arrives, there's a collection of simple carts filled with flowering plants. Locals and newly-arrived alike are welcome to lend a hand in planting them along the neatly tilled rows.

You may find plants that resemble or are identical to plants from your home world. You may find plants that you've never seen in your life. They come in a variety of colours and are accompanied by a lightly pleasing scent that shouldn't be too overpowering, though may still disturb those with allergies.

All who help out with the planting, watering, and other tending, will be rewarded with a bouquet of flowers that can be passed onto others to show your appreciation and other forms of affection. You may even find yourself making a good and lasting impression on the locals by offering some assistance.

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[ The slight edge of his gaze, drawn away in embarrassment, moves in again, and settled on his new companion, he realizes precisely who it is: the guy who wouldn't share a damn carrot to save their lives until push came to shove.

With an exasperated breath, he shakes his head a little; the man is at least somewhat interested in the pendants, he sees, and rather than reach in to pluck one up himself, he goes the route of being a little annoying. With his arms still crossed, folded carefully against his chest, he aligns himself just over the man's shoulder, like he's some wayward bodyguard. Maybe there is some truth to the words that Aerith is using, then.

A small glance, flickered over the pendants, before he looks at the profile of the man. ]

Pretty sure I have something for that already. [ There's the subtle shift of one of his shoulders; the buster sword makes a clinking sound against his armor. ] If you're looking for a pendant to give to me in thanks for saving our lives, I'm not interested.

[ Bold words to go with a bold assumption--but there is a bit of humor in his voice, dry as it is. Honestly, he's sort of grateful to see someone else he recognizes. ]

[ Excuse you, Cloud. He worked real hard for that carrot.

The Doctor's gaze slides to the large sword, still ever present on his back like the first time they had met. ]

Not sure I'd go as far to call that a pendant as I would an excessively large sword. Don't you get tired carrying that around?

[ He can't imagine his sonic screwdriver being bigger or heavier than it is. Weapon design has never fallen in the realm of what he's enjoyed (weapons in any hand could be used for the wrong things), but he can't help but wonder what the benefit of having one that large could be. Did that saying apply here? The bigger the sword the bigger the hair? That was the saying, right?

He catches Cloud's humour because it's a hint of wryness that he's used to wielding himself. ]

Are you sure? I'm pretty sure I saw a carrot one a couple of stalls back. And if there's a carrot, there's probably a bird somewhere.

It isn't that heavy.

[ Though it had been, a little--he has a vague memory of holding the handle in his hands, the blade of the sword muddied in the dirt, and the rain; it's a memory that seems to pull at his thoughts, unhappy and twisted, and his eyes squint shut for a moment before he pushes it aside. It doesn't matter, does it? He can't remember a day he didn't have this sword at his back, and it's something necessary. The strength infused in him makes it easy enough.

Eager to pull the conversation elsewhere, he offers a faint chuckle, the sound more of a breath of bemusement through his nose; unfolding his arms, he gestures out with one gloved hand to one of the pendants, though he doesn't touch it. It's in the shape of a feather, long and curved, the detail on it surprisingly intricate. ]

Are we matching already? Thought you were at least supposed to buy me dinner first or something.

[ There's another soft scoff, before he draws his arm back and shifts his weight between his boots again. ]

But if you want to get one for me and one for you, at least then I'll know they don't really work. Silly charms are just silly charms, I think.

[ It's almost ironic for him to say this, given the fact that the sword at his back is almost a charm in and of itself, a gift from someone who wanted more for him than he even thinks he deserves. ]

[ Well it looks heavy in the Doctor's humble, "no one asked you, Doctor", opinion. There's a suggestion on the tip of his tongue that Cloud should consider finding a chiropractor here if he didn't already have one at home but someone jostles him in the crowd as they pass by and his attention diverts, flitting away for a brief moment and completely forgetting whatever quippy, unhelpful comment had been on his mind. ]

We can't match if we don't have silly pendants to do that with. And you don't seem like scarf type.

[ Neither is he. Not anymore. His eyes slide towards where Cloud is gesturing, immediately spotting the feather charm in question. There's another beside it, amusingly, that is actually a carrot. ]

But we are here in Aldrip and it's a little rude to at least not entertain the idea of a tradition — even if it is born out of some level of greed.

[ He swipes up the carrot and the feather, extending it towards the merchant who nods, and turns to package them up. ]

Are you looking for anyone else?

[ There's a laugh, just barely past his lips, at the fact that there's actually two charms that match, for them, though he hadn't expected it at all. Then again, the closer he gets, the more he sees that there's all sorts of charms: strange animals and all sorts of ones indicating the various crops he'd seen out in the fields. It isn't so out of place, then, for there to be a carrot, but: it feels a little like fate, and he hates things like that.

More than that, he isn't sure how he feels about the Doctor paying for both of them--but his hand is too slow, and rather than catch the pendants, he ends up just brushing gloved fingertips against the back of the Doctor's hand; scoffing, he folds his arms in against tight to his chest. ]

No, you're the only person I would have given one to. [ This is mostly a tease, dry as it is, but it does bring up an important question. ] Were you looking for someone else?

I'm bad at gifts, but I could at least help you pay for one, if there was someone else you wanted to get one for. I still don't think they do anything, but I promise I won't get jealous if you've got another friend to buy for.

[ His way of being friendly. ]

[ The sudden but brief brush makes the Doctor raise an eyebrow, and he can only conclude that Cloud had been trying to stop him from buying them or that he didn't want them at all. Ah well. He had done the work, it might as well go to use somehow.

What good were favours for him anyway? Probably more useful than gold and money had ever been, but he knows that there's a certain degree of need for it here when he doesn't have the TARDIS to simply dispense what he needs.

There's a short but amused laugh at Cloud's words, as he turns back to face him while the merchant busies themselves. ]

Do they have to do anything though? I thought you humans enjoyed your sentimentalities however trivial or silly.

[ He brushes right past the 'you humans' bit, moving on to wave off Cloud's offer, however kind it is. The deflection is his own show of kindness in a way. ] If you want to repay me, you can help me pick a gift instead. Although now that you've admitted that you're not bad at gifts, Clara might be really unimpressed with me later. [ There's a pause as he mulls it over, his eyes sparkling slightly. ] But then again it might be offset if she's learned I've made a friend.

[ The Doctor might be keen on brushing right past it, but Cloud sticks on those words, his gaze twisting in curious bewilderment as he eyes the man's profile. You humans, is that right? He's seen a lot of different people in this place, but this person was at least one he thought he could count as definitively human.

Slowly, his gaze falls down the length of the Doctor's body, almost as if he's trying to size him up. What makes him not human? What's different? Then again, it's not like there's anything to be noticed about Aerith's appearance, and she's not precisely human, either.

Clearing his throat, he waits for the merchant to finish wrapping up the pendants: before he stretches out an arm to accept them in the Doctor's stead, handing him one slim package while he moves to pocket the other. A little embarrassed--just as he's a little pleased, truthfully. He won't admit it. ]

Tell me about Clara and who she is, and I might be able to help. I'm guessing you don't make friends easily.

[ This is said with a somewhat knowing, wry sort of smile. ]

[ The staring goes unnoticed and he simply interprets it as Cloud deciding whether or not he wants to be a part of this gift choosing scheme, which, fair enough. It isn't that he's particularly keen on rushing right past the topic; it's more like an act of absentmindedness that often comes with him not being human but human-looking (although the Time Lords would claim that it was humans that had taken on their likeness and not the other way around). He'd be happy to expand and just come outright with the truth if Cloud asked.

Before he can reach for the packaged pendant however, it's passed to him instead. The Doctor's lips quirk crookedly by way of thanks. Normally he'd be more inclined usually to act a little incredulously and say that he makes friends just fine - but instead he lets out the equivalent of a sheepish grumble for him. ]

Sounds a little like the pot calling the kettle black here. We've got matching charms now. [ He pockets it, reminding himself to figure out what to do with it later. Maybe he'd hang it off the sonic screwdriver. That might be fun. He motions slightly with his head to keep them moving down the stretch of stalls. ]

Clara is a school teacher but she travels with me. She's short. Bossy, like skirts and coffee. She's also incredibly brave.

[ Well, he isn’t going to dignify that with a response, other than a disgruntled rumble of breath—-because yes, it’s true, he doesn’t really make friends easily either. That doesn’t stop people from trying, somehow, or declaring that they’re his friends anyway, which he finds strange; even here, he finds it strange that he actually feels surprisingly comfortable around the Doctor, despite knowing so little about him.

Perhaps that just means that there’s something that feels good about being around someone who doesn’t have any expectations out of him, other than what he’s already offered.

Still, he follows almost dutifully as instructed, his own hands loose at his sides as they begin to move slightly down the stretch of stalls, keeping a leisurely pace in order to get a good look at the various goods. ]

A school teacher… I feel like anyone would have to be brave to travel with you. [ This is a friendly dig, he swears. ] Is she your…

[ What is the proper word here? Taking in the age of the Doctor—- ] Girlfriend? Wife? Or just…Friend? Complicated friend?

What's that supposed to mean? [ There's an unspoken, 'Oi' somewhere in there when he catches the light dig. His tone, despite being somewhat dry, still sounds like there's the ghost of laugh in there somewhere though. ] You could argue that being a school teacher talks an incredible amount of bravery. Teenagers are vicious.

[ The Doctor can't deny it though. In fact, he'd whole heartedly agree. His companions came in all shapes and sizes, but if there was one common thread stringing them together it was how brave they were. Traveling with him wasn't exactly a walk in the park (although this was turning out to be one so far), and most people would have had one misstep and be asked to returned to their time immediately. Some had in fact.

The amused wryness immediately turns into a look of bewilderment. ]

And what gives you that impression? [ Surely not the ring that looks suspiciously like a wedding band on his ring finger. Surely not that. ]

[ He wouldn't disagree: teenagers are terrible, and he knows because he'd been a pretty terrible one himself. The memories of that time are a little hazy, though, and at best, he can remember how stupid he'd been, throwing himself to SOLDIER to impress a girl who likely wouldn't look at him twice despite her utter kindness. He'd made rash decisions and in the end, they've brought him to this place: where he's been accused of a
crime he knows he did.

The reaction, however, makes him feel guilty for one second: before he brushes it off. Defensive, he shrugs his shoulders, jerking his chin to the side to look at a particular stall across the way from them. ]

Dunno. You're... You seem like the type, and you've got a ring on, and it all just seemed to fit. A stunning, brave woman to put up with you, or whatever. You know.

[ Now he's all embarrassed. ]

But if I'm wrong, then I'm wrong. Am I wrong?

[ Apparently they’re both jerking each other around in circles of confusion. It’s not so much the stunning comment that the Doctor stops the Doctor’s brain from working. Appearances, or rather, attractiveness in particular, never really seemed to register with him. With how often Time Lords changed their appearances, those that did choose to partake in things like romance, rarely, if ever, focused on the physical characteristics of someone.

No, what gets him is the wedding ring comment. He looks down in confusion at the gold ring on his finger that he rarely takes off. Ah, right. He’d forgotten about that. Hm.

A prickle of guilt (easily identified because it’s an emotion he feels and swallows often) stabs through him momentarily at the thought of forgetting River, before he brushes it off. After a not very graceful recovery, he clears his throat, shoving his hand a little deeper into his coat pocket. While he’s clearly embarrassed too, he only sounds gruff because he can’t help but feel like he’s done a disservice to River and Clara by continuing to wear this. Not that he thinks that Clara remotely cares about him in that sense. ]

Companion. Companion is the easiest way to describe it. I’m not married to her — that’s someone else who’s gone.

[ Another time traveller whose relationship with him was equally nebulous and odd. ]

Oh.

[ He definitely feels like an idiot now--or rather, feels like more of an idiot when he sees that reaction. It's interesting, in some ways, because the Doctor has only really showed him this teasing, almost gruff side, always matter-of-fact, always in control, and yet here, where he moves his hand into his coat pocket a little deeper? That means something. Whatever it is, he's inadvertently touched on a sensitive subject; and awkward as he is, he doesn't know quite how to recover.

He takes in a breath, lips pressed together, and focuses his gaze instead on the little trinkets at the stall closest to them. There are bracelets and rings and scarves, pretty pens and candles, and focusing on something else helps him resist the urge to immediately change the subject. Instead, surprisingly: ]

...I'm sorry. For your loss. [ It's soft, almost quiet. ] But I get it. Your companion, okay. Companions are important.

[ His clumsy way of trying to show his understanding. ] Does she like tea? Or just coffee?

[ There's a noise that leaves his mouth but it's hard to discern if it's a noise of, 'Don't worry, it's fine. My time traveling wife is a complicated topic in and of itself,' or if it's more along the lines of, 'Feelings are weird and sticky and I feel uncomfortable dissecting this and can't even begin to imagine why I said anything in the first place. Let's just forget that this ever happened'. The noise is probably both of those things.

It's strange being open-ish about his past and as a result, everything that came with that. He had lived so many lives at this point, but River is particularly fresh. Fresh enough that when he slipped on the ring as he had been getting dressed as this version of himself for the first time, he hadn't thought twice about it. If he had to put a label on it, he supposed he could call the ring (the wedding band) any number of things: him being sentimental. Him paying an homage. Maybe it was just symbolic accessory at the end of the day. Either way, he doesn't call it anything because thinking about it too long sends a bit of a pang in his hearts that he quickly quashes. ]

Clara probably likes tea. [ He knows she does. ] She is British after all. Her people seem to enjoy that sort of thing. [ There's something joking that surfaces in his tone in an attempt to move past whatever sore sensitive wound that had yet to scar over. ] Do you also have a companion?

[ The more this man talks, the less he understands--there's that soft noise that he can't discern, but it's something more that he recognizes. (British? What is British?)

In a way, they're similar like that; he doesn't think he would really be open to talking about his past with anyone either, nevertheless in the middle of a shopping strip, looking at silly pendants and trinkets. But there's an appreciation there, too, for the fact that the Doctor brought up anything at all.

It might mean he trusts him. Maybe. That's a little surprising--and a little heartwarming.

With a soft nod, Cloud nudges at his shoulder, directing the Doctor to veer slightly left; there's a few stalls packed together with various dried foods and goods, and he thinks they might have tea or coffee there, too. With a faint half-smile, he shrugs a little. ]

I had a few. Only one of them made it here so far. Aerith. [ She's noisy, so he figures the Doctor might have already met her... ] We were traveling together, before...all this.

[ Whether or not he trusts the chicken-haired man with his large sword still has to yet to be seen; he’s not particularly cagey, not in the traditional sense, but there seems to be something that’s allowed his mind to freely spout information about himself that he might not normally otherwise. Even knowing that it isn’t something he’d normally participate in, he’s not particularly fussed about it. It might be something he’ll dwell on later, but he’s too focused on the task at hand that he doesn’t spare it another thought.

He allows himself to be absentmindedly lead through the weaving mazes of stalls. It’s soothing to his normally busy mind, although there’s plenty here for his eyes and mind to flit to and occupy his attention span. ]

Ah, that woman that talked about having an emotional support sleepover? [ He’s quick to put the pieces together. ] You must have your hands full. Is it common for her to invite people into your shared room to ‘stick together’ back home too?

[ There’s some sort of humour in there, something about parallels about being paired up with someone far more chatty and friendly than either of them were. ]

Edited 2023-03-27 23:38 (UTC)

Emotional support sleepover... [ He repeats it with a faint scoff, shaking his head. ] Yeah, that's the one.

[ And it isn't like it's anything out of character for her; if anything, it feels like this place is only cementing to him the kind of person that Aerith is. Helpful, bright, determined: all things that poke and prod at his own reticent nature.

One gloved hand lifts to point at a few satchels of tea, lined up at the front of one of the stalls; he actually finds himself interested in the flavors, bending slightly at the Doctor's side so he can try to read the strange scrawl on the homemade packaging. ]

She's very...friendly. Why didn't you take her up on it? I feel offended.

[ Amusement, bleeding through his tone, as he edges closer to the stall table, picking up a bag of loose leaf to smell it--and then, without asking, push it under the Doctor's nose for him to smell too. ]

Oh, I can tell you are. You seem the sort that want everyone in your space.

[ His voice is wry with amusement as he gaze skips over the tea, finding himself wondering which one Cloud might choose which is a thought that's followed up briefly by another mild sense of surprise. Something had to be going on here — things like caring about what sort of tea and buying matching charms with someone he had effectively just met wasn't particularly on brand for him to do — but he just isn't sure what. Before he can ponder it further, the thought is broken up by a tea bag under his nose.

The sudden movement makes him flinch slightly in surprise. His eyebrows furrow almost as if annoyed that Cloud had done that but a beat later he reaches for the tea bag to get a better sniff of it. ]

Hints of citrus, and something else earthy. [ It smelled good but no matter what sort of tea it was, it would end up with far more sugar than should ever be added to tea. ] What do you think?

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{Mini Event} Day of Devotion

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