post-trial garbage feelings

[ballisdeath]

[ The campfire is still roaring. S'mores supplies are hanging around the area. There's still a faint scent of copper on the air, for those who can really recognize it.

Leon is leaning against Mami on one of the logs around the fire. He's been acting like he's uncaring-- and a lot of it stems from bitterness that this happened to him and he had to watch it AGAIN. But he's calmed down now. He actually looks rather peaceful, if a bit weathered.

There's also now a pizza sitting on another nearby seat. It's cheese and a little cold. ]

Spell didn't work. Delivery man practically blinked out of existence. I thought I'd try since... look at all of us now.

[ That's all he murmurs. Join the campfire? ]

Comments

[itsagazebo]

It's your job? What, as a Sibyl-thing?

[love_seriously]

A sibylla, yeah. A priestess of Tempus Spatium.

[ She touches her necklace again, briefly. ]

We used to do ceremonies and...and funerals and stuff all the time.

[itsagazebo]

Aren't you a little young to be a priestess?

[love_seriously]

No way. I'll be turning seventeen soon, so I'm almost too old.

[itsagazebo]

Too old? What, are only kids allowed to be priestesses?

[love_seriously]

Not little kids...you're usually a cadet until you're like, fourteen, then you can be a sibylla up until you're seventeen. Oh, but you can keep being a priestess when you're older...it's different though. Sibyllae are special.

[itsagazebo]

Special? Special how?

[Now he's curious]

[love_seriously]

Because sibyllae are the only ones who can pilot the Simoun- the sacred airships of Tempus Spatium.

[itsagazebo]

I... I think the only words I understood out of that were sacred airships....

[love_seriously]

Oh. Yeah. Um, well...Tempus Spatium is our god. And the Simoun are...well, they're ships. Aircrafts blessed by god. Priestesses like me - sibyllae - fly them, as a way of offering prayers to Tempus Spatium.

[itsagazebo]

You fly planes to pray to your god? ... what do you do while you fly?

[He's SO confused]

[love_seriously]

Flying is praying. The Simoun, see- they leave these trails behind, and we use those trails to draw our prayers.

[ She pauses, glancing around on the ground for a stick, which she then uses to scratch out rough approximations of a few different symbols in the sand. ]

There's a ton of shapes, and they all mean and do different stuff.