Operation Reignition

[rekindlemods]

Who: Anyone who wants to participate in the event!
Where: Assorted places in and around District 3!
When: Sunday afternoon (the 30th)
Summary: POWER IT UP AND GO SHOPPING.
Warnings: None.

By late morning, it's obvious that there's something going on down by the bridges to District 3. Even if you missed the announcement on the network, it's pretty obvious that something is going to happen; townspeople mill about with interest as people set up tables. Irene and Mai are roaming the area, Mai mostly sticking to the medical teams standing by while Irene organizes the rest of the group. Keener eyes might spy one of the brothers responsible for the network, slipping off into the Third District through gates that stand open, but still guarded against any visitors who might attempt to approach before things are ready to go.

Off to one side, there's a shaded area, tents and a few chairs where visitors can wait to be allowed entry. There's a table full of water bottles and light snacks tucked up against the wall, to fortify you against the heat of the afternoon - and it is warm, and only going to get warmer. The natives seem to have accepted the baking sun as the normal way of things, but be careful that you don't get heatstroke.

At about half an hour past noon, someone brings out a little podium and sets it in front of the gate. Irene climbs up on it, holding a microphone in front of her mouth - her voice echoes from a number of speakers set up through the area.

"Alright, could I have my first group of volunteers over here, please? We've got your instructions ready for you to enter the district."

Looks like it's showtime. Are you ready?

((ooh; Event start! OOC information can be found here and here.))

Comments

[winged_knight]

Wing reaches out instinctively when the boy stumbles backwards, but Diarmuid is so quick to recover he withdraws again, offering an apology instead. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." It's just easier to converse this way. And Wing realizes he is a little less intimidating when not towering over people.

"Don't worry, I'm not angry. Well met, Diarmuid Ua Duibhne." The name rolls off his vocalizer slowly, as if tasting the strange syllables and committing them to memory. "Giants then? I can see the connection. My people are called Cybertronians, named for our homeworld Cybertron. You say your friend met another of my kind here...who was nice?"

Is he...talking about Deadlock? What?

[smallspot]

"Cy-Cyber... Cy..." Diarmuid pouts when he realizes he's not going to be able to get the word out of his mouth, especially after Wing had been able to say his name so well. "I'm sorry I can't say it!"

He falls silent for a few moments in embarrassment, but when he realizes that Wing has asked him a question and he's being rude by not answering, he speaks again, "Yes, he said the being was very tall like a Fomorii, but made out of m-metal. He also said that he made him an honorary De-Decepticon. Is that like being a knight? Do they fight to help people?"

[winged_knight]

Wing makes a soft chirring noise, almost like a coo. "Don't worry. If you wish, keep practicing and you'll get it in no time."

The rest of what Diarmuid has to relate provokes a mixed reaction. Wing seems pretty calm until he gets to the honorary Decepticon part, which triggers a look of disapproval the mech can't quite hide.

"Uh. Not exactly." How to word this and not be...horrible? "I am a knight by title and skill." (he is wearing a sword afterall) "Deadlock is a warrior who fights with guns, like the rest of the Decepticons. They...think they are helping people gain freedom from oppression but are often too violent in their ways."

[smallspot]

The soft noise makes the boy giggle because it reminds him of the sound happy birds make--only Wing is a very large bird! However, he is distracted from everything else Wing says when he hears him say he is a knight.

"You're a knight? I'm a knight too!" His eyes are wide with excitement, "Father just started training me, so I am just a little knight, but he says I will be a great knight someday. I can't wait! I want to be able to fight and help people be safe!" He pauses as he remembers what Wing said about Decepticons being too violent, "I don't want my friend to be violent. Maybe he shouldn't be a Decepticon anymore. He's going to be a knight like me. He can't help people if he is hurting them!

"I know! I should have him come talk to you instead of...Deadlock? You can teach us both how to be good knights!"

[winged_knight]

Wing chuckles at how the boy seems to consider this knew knowledge regarding Cybertronian factions. "I think that is up to your friend to decide, yes? Many Decepticons were very bad, but I don't think Deadlock is. Your friend--what is his name?--said he was nice, right?"

It kindles some true hope in Wing, not just idle fantasy, that there's something special in Deadlock.

"I have been a knight for a very long time. My order is the Circle of Light." He grins at the young boy's excitement, for young he definitely seems even if Wing knows nothing of how humans grow and age. "I'm sure you will make an excellent knight Diarmuid. Your...Father. Is he here?"

[smallspot]

"His name is Cu Chulainn!" The boy excitedly jumps up and down in place, "He's actually my hero, but right now he is just a boy like me. I am lucky to get to meet him! I can't wait to tell my father all about it. But my friend didn't say a specific name. All he said was that is was someone like you and he was kind of grumpy but nice. Does that sound like Deadlock?"

"The Circle of Light," he says the name with great appreciation. "That is a pretty name for a group of knights! I will be joining the Fianna once I get older and am skilled enough. They are the best of the best in my homeland. I can't wait to join them! Father says I will be great too. Father..." Diarmuid is quite young, only six, and this time when he mentions his father he is hit with a wave of homesickness. "Father isn't here. I worry he is going to be scared that I am missing. He always watches over me because he is a god, but here he can't do that. Even if Lady Irene says it will be okay and he won't even know I am gone, I worry."

[winged_knight]

Wing can't help but laugh: the boy's excitement is infectious. "I'm glad you have such a good friend here, I'd like to meet him sometime." Wing's mouth quirks a little, "Grumpy but nice, yes I think that fits."

The homesickness Wing expects, and though he doesn't know a whole lot about human family groups he's still impressed that one so young is more worried for someone else--his parent no less (who happens to be a god, did he hear that right?!)--and not feeling sorry for himself. "If he trained you well I'm certain he has faith in you to take care of yourself. But maybe we can talk to Irene about the possibility of sending messages home?"

Wing smiles then, dark hands folding over his raised thigh. "It is good of you to be concerned for your friend, and for your father for that matter. The thing to remember, is that regardless of our affiliation: Decepticon, Circle of Light, Fianna or any other, is that we continue to do what we feel is Right. You will have to learn to judge those things for yourself, not based solely on what someone else says. You must be the center of your own moral compass Diarmuid. And as knights, that is especially important for us."

TL;DR incoming!

[smallspot]

Wing did hear him right. The god who Diarmuid calls his father is Aengus Og a member of the Tuatha De Danann who rules over love, youth and poetry. Aengus, though, is actually Diarmuid's foster father. However, since he sees his birth father about once a year if that and the man usually brings trouble in his wake, Diarmuid does not feel him deserving of such a respectful title.

"Father always watches over me. Even if he trusts me to be okay, I think he will still miss me," Diarmuid frowns slightly for a moment. "Lady Irene says everything stops for people back home while we are here and that is why they won't miss us. I don't know if we can send messages if they are frozen."

The whole concept of time stopping in one place while continuing in another is a little hard for his young mind to handle and it frustrates him. As the boy tries to puzzle it out like he had tried to when Irene had first told him, a small blue and green butterfly suddenly appears within his dark wavy hair. Far from being stuck, the butterfly soon launches itself into the air and flies around the boy's head as if trying to cheer him up. Once the butterfly catches Diarmuid's attention, it is only a matter of seconds before the boy starts giggling, opening his hands to let the butterfly settle into them. He then holds his hands out toward Wing.

"This is my pet! Father made it for me!" He looks down at the butterfly and is quiet for several moments before speaking softly. While his voice might be soft, there is something that is suddenly very adult about it. In fact, the words coming from such a young form seem almost a little frightening, "That might be what you get to do, but I am a knight bound to a lord. He will have us do wonderful things to help the people, but in the end it is his will, not my own that I follow."

AHHHH what I thought this posted!? /soooooob

[winged_knight]

Wing makes a mental note to ask about the god thing later, being a bit of a theologian himself. He'd be fascinated to hear details to be certain.

"It's good of you to be concerned for him." Diarmuid has several great hallmarks of a knight already; Wing is impressed. But... "Everything stops? That's curious..." It brings to mind what Kid said about pocket dimensions. "Maybe she means that if ever we go home, we'll return to the same moment we left?"

He'd muse on that more, except whatever's going on with the child's hair catches his attention. Wing has a bit of magpie syndrome, being drawn to things are pretty and shiny. His optics go wide as he watched the tiny thing flutter about, leaning forward for a closer look when it's offered. The knight stills his vents, concerned he might upset or blow away such a small delicate thing, but his optics glow with wonder as a smile spreads over his face. "It's beautiful, does it have a name?"

Wing doesn't know what it means to the Fianna knights to be bound to a lord, but he is no stranger to oaths of honor or duty and his point still holds true. He nods, accepting the boy's explanation, but poses a query. "Then I have a question for you Diarmuid. What if you could save a life, but in doing so it meant defying your lord's orders? What if that life, that person or maybe many people, would die if you did not act. Would you leave them to die to stay true to your lord?"

*pats* It's okay! LOL!

[smallspot]

Diarmuid will be glad to tell about that anytime, Wing. He loves talking about his father and telling the stories of his adventures!

"I think that is what she meant?" The boy sounds as confused as Wing really. "I don't know how they can do that, but that is what Lady Irene told me. Even my father can't do things like that. Fairy realms move differently through time, but..."

As much as he thought this might be a fairy realm at first, the more he learns about it the more he realizes that can't be the case.

"It doesn't have a name. It is just my pet," As Diarmuid talks, the butterfly flies up out of his hands, tiny blue and green wings fluttering brightly, and makes a couple of circles around Wing's head eventually landing right on his nose. "When I asked Father if I should name it, he said it is part of me and so it already has a name. I...still don't know if I understand what he meant, but hopefully I will someday!"

The butterfly is actually made via magic of a small part of Aengus' love for his son and a larger part of Diarmuid's innocence. That is why the butterfly can follow simple commands from Diarmuid before the boy even knows he wants something in some cases. However, try explaining that to a six year old no matter now bright.

While the question of honor versus loyalty Wing asks will be one that plagues Diarmuid as an adult and also as a servant, right now as a child he has a very simple answer for it, "My lord would never tell me to do such a thing! His orders would always be to help people who need it! I wouldn't need to disobey him. Maybe lords in other places are different. Many things are different in this world than my own, but there would be no need to disobey my lord. His orders will always be just!"

Oh, the innocence of childhood...

/sob this thread is going to kill me with CUTE c:

[winged_knight]

Wing is definitely a lover of stories, especially adventures. Clearly this is destiny, and a storytime night will need to come into being in the future. Maybe even regaling their adventures here today once the generators are fully powered.

"I know there are theories, but I am no scientist, I don't understand them much either. Perhaps time will tell us more?" Understanding would come with time, Wing hopes anyway.

The flitting wings of the butterfly interrupt his musing, golden optics following the flap of blue-green wings. The mana within the tiny creature stirs his EM field in curious ways and he laughs, a fully unrestrained sound of wonder and delight, until the butterfly alights on his nose. He holds very still, optics cycling to focus on the pattern on the wings. "It's beautiful," the words a slightly hushed, not quite breathless, and then his look of wonder breaks into a grin again. "Well, then with your permission I'll refer to him as 'Little Dia'?"

Wing understands the innocence of youth all too well. He himself required a rude and tragic awakening in order to truly open his eyes. Is it one of the cruel necessities of life, he wonders? "In a perfect world that's absolutely true. Life forces hard choices on us sometimes though, as a knight and the hero-to-be you certainly must be, I'm sure you'll face a few."

*pats* There are worse ways to die! :-P

[smallspot]

"Maybe. Sometimes we do have to wait for the answers we seek. We aren't always meant to know everything right away." For a moment, the boy's eyes seem distant and wiser than his years, then he giggles and his expression becomes age appropriate once again, "I think my butterfly likes you! If you want to call it that, I don't mind. Saying it is little seems repetitive. Maybe you should just call it Dia? It's not like anyone calls me that. I am sure others will be able to guess what you mean!"

Most of his nicknames are things like Little Bird, Little Hawk, or just simply Little One.

"Heroes have to make hard choices all the time. That is true," a contemplative look crosses Diarmuid's face. "Father has told me that, though he doesn't tell me about the specific kinds of choices they have to make. He says that part of my training can come when I am older."

Aengus is probably not doing his son any favors by keeping the harshness of the world from him for so long, but as a god who rules over youth and considering how much he loves his son he cannot help but do it.

Very definitely!

[winged_knight]

Wing almost misses the serious look on the boy's face he's so distracted by the butterfly. It's the tone that really calls attention to it, and the sagely words. "This is true. We can only have faith for the future, that the answers will come." He grins. "And 'Dia' it is. It fits nicely, I think."

The knight sits, pleased, while Diarmuid contemplates. "This is true, hopefully you will not have to face such choices any time soon. But the more you consider such things ahead of time, the better armed you'll be--" he raises one dark gray finger and taps his helm, "--to decide wisely when you need to later."

Wing would probably agree with Aengus for the most part, but there must be a happy medium, one that let's youth remain mostly carefree while still preparing them for the future.

[smallspot]

Diarmuid nods, moving a little closer to Wing when he sits down. It almost seems like the boy wants to climb into his lap, but is too shy to do so without invitation. In response to the unspoken wish, the newly named butterfly flits off Wing's nose and starts making circles between the two of them as if trying to draw them together.

"Thinking about things and all the ways they can happen is important. That is why father tells me so many stories. He says it will help me learn to think about things in different ways. And that will make me a better knight! Besides, stories are fun!" He tilts his head curiously at Wing, "It sounds like you have had a lot of experience with making hard choices. I hope they didn't make you too sad when you had to make them."

[winged_knight]

Wing shifts, reaching over his head for the rise of the Great Sword's hilt and pulling it from his back. It's a great deal easier to sit when you don't have a weapon 2/3s your size magna-locked to your back. He cradles the weapon in the crook of his shoulder, the blue gem on the hilt seeming to wink with its own light, and curls the opposite leg under him, thigh flat to the ground.

He's watching the butterfly curiously the whole time, and it seems the little creature finally gets its point across because Wing beckons with a hand, encouraging Diarmuid to climb into his lap.

"Stories are an excellent way to experience more of the world beyond what you can do yourself. It's why history is important to us because we can learn from past victories and mistakes." He grins. Wing loves stories too, and given he comes from a place that is a reliquary for history and culture, he knows quite a number of them. "But fantasy is important too, because without it we can't aspire to be more than we already are."

The knight's smile is tempered by a little bit of sadness then. "I have, but each was important, and even if they or the repercussions weren't fun to experience, they've made me who I am today. Lessons learned that made me grow as a person."

[smallspot]

Diarmuid wastes no time crawling into Wing's lap once he is invited. His butterfly makes one last happy circle of them, being sure to pass close to Wing's face, before disappearing somewhere into the boy's wavy dark hair.

Instead of listening to Wing's words, though, Diarmuid seems entranced by Wing's sword.

"Is that your partner?" His gold eyes are wide, but even so they still seem to get lost as he stares into the twinkling blue gem on the sword's hilt. "Is it magical? Can you hear it singing to you? My partners are waiting at home for me to get strong enough to use them. Father took me to see them once and they all sang to me! It was so pretty. Father says that is how you know a weapon is meant for you. If you hear them singing, then that means they know your soul and you know theirs!"

[winged_knight]

There's something nice about accepting the young boy into his lap. Something beyond the balm that physical contact gives in this place and beyond the general comfort he usually gets from a good cuddle. To be trusted by one so small and fragile in comparison to himself, it touches his spark in ways he can't quite describe. His smile is warm like sunshine as the boy's wonder about the sword breaks free.

"My partner?" The child's words are eerily accurate in meaning, though not the specific words he would choose. "You could say that yes. The Great Swords are ancient, even compared to my kind whom can get very old, and hold a power we can't fully explain."

Wing shifts the weapon to lay across his lap, between them with the edge safety tilted away, and pulls the scabbard from it far enough to reveal the etched gold latticework and glyphs in the fuller. His fingers trace over the inlay, a small smile over his face, inviting Diarmuid to do the same if he wishes. "I am bonded to it, it doesn't speak to me, but I can feel its presence within my spark like a harmonic resonance."

[smallspot]

"Then it is speaking to you! It just does it differently than mine do. There is nothing wrong with that. As long as you can feel it, that means it was meant for you! Not every weapon likes to sing. It's just that mine do," Diarmuid smiles widely at Wing before turning his attention to the sword. It's so beautiful and he wants to touch it, but even though Wing seems to be indicating it's okay, he's not sure if he should or not.

Finally, after a few moment of indecision, his curiosity wins out and he lightly runs his fingers over the inlay like Wing had not long before. Once he touches it, his eyes go wide, "It might not sing to you, but it likes you! I can tell! It is very happy with you because you treat it well and respect it!"

He hadn't touched the weapon for long, but somehow he had just known. Like he had known that his weapons were his partners, the moment he touched Wing's sword he knew it was the his friend's partner...

...even if that wasn't quite the right word.

[winged_knight]

"I think you are right. I do feel as if it has chosen me, that we are right for each other." And in a way it does sing, just not with words or sound, but through the bond it has to his spark.

The Great Sword, metal of a color not often seen, is warmer to the touch than one might expect. Not as warm as Wing's plating is, but moreso than you might expect ordinary metal to be. The gold inlay, gylphs in Primal Vernacular, shines idly in the light, the sword's power dormant until Wing needs to call on it. "It's good to hear you say that. You must be sensitive to such things, most I think would not notice or presume it just another object."

It's surprising but also gratifying that Diarmuid is so sharp, so centered, so in tune with forces outside himself. He has the makings of someone special, Wing is certain. "What are your chosen weapons?"

[smallspot]

A serious, though slightly sad look crosses Diarmuid's face as his small hands reverently continue to stroke the blade, "Too many people don't see beyond what is on the surface. They don't want to take the time to understand anything outside of themselves. It's a shame. They miss so much..."

The child falls quiet for a few moments, before looking up at Wing with bright eyes, all seriousness and sadness gone, "I have two swords and two spears waiting for me! The swords' names are Moralltach and Beagalltach. The spears' names are Gae Dearg and Gae Buidhe." Despite the weapons' difficult names, the boy has no problem saying them, "They were all given to my father as gifts and he is giving them to me! Once I am strong enough to use them that is..."

[winged_knight]

A fond smile spreads over Wing's face as the child speaks. Such worldly wisdom from one so young and small, it amazes him. "That is a truth that extends farther than you can imagine right now. Sometimes we have to be reminded, like I have been recently."

The knight's optics widen at the naming of the weapons, "That is quite an arsenal that is promised to you. I bet you are eager to grow into a knight worthy of them." Wing imagines that it's more a matter of physical strength than it is personal honor. "My sword has a name too." One that is both easier and harder to pronounce.

[smallspot]

Diarmuid looks up at Wing with a nod, though he doesn't say anything. He doesn't quite get what is so important about what he said, but that feeling is something he is getting use to. It happens off and on. Silly special skills that won't be fully developed for a long time.

"My weapons are paired sets, so I get to learn to use two at a time instead of just one weapon and a shield. Father says that a second weapon can be just as good as a shield if you know how to use it!" Diarmuid looks down at Wing's sword again before giving it another respectful touch, "I bet it has a good name too. Will you tell me it?"

[winged_knight]

"Two at a time, eh? I dual wield my primary weapons as well." His hand runs down the Great Sword's length again, fingers tracing the glyphs in the blade. "The Great Swords are only used in times of great need. The cost for power can be high is one is not careful."

Wing makes a set of sounds then, likely unintelligible to most as language, sharp and structured but with an undeniable old grace. The sword's name, in Primal Vernacular. "That is its name in the old tongue. I interpret it as 'Too Pure for This World'.

[smallspot]

Diarmuid listens closely when Wing says the sword's name. While he can't understand what is being said there is something about the feel of the words that reminds him of times he has heard his Father reciting stories or songs in the old tongues. Those words have power. Even beyond that normally granted to words.

"'Too Pure for This World.' Yes. It's a good name, but I think it means more too. Words are so limiting sometimes..." Diarmuid stares at the sword in silence for several long moments before looking up at Wing again, "What are your other weapons like? Are they swords too?"