[Ostara] A Warriors' Rest

Aster's eyes briefly found Tanner as she caught the hare staring, but she had little time to react before Gavin nabbed the young Page's attention. The Viper and the Hare had shared the same hell on the Other Side, albeit in different stripes. However, the sharing of a Keeper was a different kinship than other Changelings bore with one another and, if Chunhua's exasperation was anything to go on, the little Beast was worth protecting.

She made a mental note to touch base with him - and, well, the rest of his motley. Failed or not, she had been involved in his rescue and played a role in keeping Golden Boy from muddying the situation further.

"Fuck, that's right," Aster offered, slight embarrassment hitting her features as Blaze reminded her that they had, in fact, met, "My bad."

It was the closest thing most ever got to an apology from the Viper. Given that Blaze seemed unbothered, Aster did not feel the need to press an apology further.

The Torrent's name was noted, hopefully permanently this time, within the mind of the Beast. The comment of dissatisfaction also earns Blaze a smirk.

"Yep," she affirms, "Would have rather seen the deed done than check out early, but... Can't see to Wrath if I ain't living and we had bigger issues to deal with."

The arrival of the Philicia had drawn Aster's attention, she gave the respect of sitting up in her seat as the sovereign past, wincing and all. When she was gone, the Viper returned to her lounging state before glancing to Henley as the Ogre began his speech. It was... inspiring to listen to, leaving the Viper with a deep seated guilt. Aster had fought for many things. Chico came to mind, of course, but more recently so did Tanner and the Freehold with her acts during her work with Gavin Graves . As Henley spoke, the Serpent's gaze rested on the avian Beast, resigning herself to the reality that her greatest claim to fame was that she had been there. The glory of Tanner's rescue did not belong to the Viper and she would not take it.

Looking back to her current company, Aster shrugged.

"I was there," she answered, "He earned the glory, though. Where I fell, he rose. The glory is his, so I'll let him bask... As for the Huntsman, by the time she dropped by I was bleeding in an alley. All I did after that was drop a line to Lucky Jack. But as far as Tanner? That was Gavin."

"It was larger than what I could do. Simple as that," Aster offered as Blaze complimented her handing off the job of containment to Lucky Jack.

The encouragement to share her story came as a bit of a surprise to the Viper, leading her to ponder and choose her words carefully.

"If my story was worth telling, I probably wouldn't be around to tell it," Aster said, "I'm good at fighting, Blaze. Not telling stories. More than that, the Freehold needs hope. Talking about how I nearly derailed a rescue mission before leaving to lick my wounds ain't gonna do that."

There was a shrug. Aster wasn't trying to be difficult, but the reality remained she didn't feel her tale was one of note. She had not secured a personal victory, nor one for the Freehold. The serpent had helped others along the path. With Gavin, she had aided in his investigation early on before rashly giving into Wrath. With Lucky Jack, she had dropped a tip that helped him mobilize and contain an outbreak of violence. However, in neither tale, was the Viper's hand crucial at the conclusion.

"There are better stories about this little invasion than mine, so I'm gonna let 'em speak," she concluded, "Cash is nice, but I ain't hurting. And I don't need that big a change."

"Survived Chico too," Aster offered, her tone bitter, "Don't mean it's an achievement. Ain't no glory sitting out a war in a fox hole with your guts in your hands. Ain't no glory in nearly fucking up an investigation either."

Aster let the declaration sit for a moment.

"Death comes for all of us down the line, how folks remember you once the End greets ya is what counts," she mused, "I ain't here to die as a nobody, but I ain't here spew tales that don't mean shit either. Once I feel like I survived Chico and everything else for a reason? Trust me, you'll know."

The last question causes a sense of pause in the Viper, vivid blue eyes flicking to the gentle ripples of the pool as the Lost within played, danced, and swam as they exalted the coming of Spring.

"Once I'm done healing, I'll put my feelers out. Get the goals of the nobles dialed in, see if one of 'em resonates with me, you know? Though, If I'm honest, leaning towards the Chevaliers," Aster said, "Probably head to see Loki and see if he needs a pair of hands to swear in. Then I'll fight. Do what needs doing."

The comment of a lack of glory in war earned a smirk.

"Look, we're just gonna need to agree to disagree on that," Aster offered, making her stance bluntly clear, "If I didn't believe glory could be won by fighting, I wouldn't fight at all. Again... how they remember you is all the counts at the end of the day."

Then came the Torrents deeper observances and musings on Aster's status as a survivor. The Viper offered no quips or interjections, listening as her fingers toyed with the glass of her drink. She listened, her expression mixed as she fought with the desire to argue for her right to silence and the need to honor the fallen.

As far as Aster knew, Las Vegas held no other survivors of Chico. She was alone. Even if she loathed the idea of getting up in front of the gathered to share the tale, the reality remained that she was the only one who could tell it.

And Chico was worth remembering.

Blaze's words clearly had an effect, as the serpent sat for several moments stewing with her thoughts in silence. The offer to change the subject received a shake of the head.

"It's... fine," she offered, sitting up as she swung her legs to the lounge chair's side, "You ain't wrong. Can't just sit here and say nothing. My story may not amount to shit, but I know a lot that do. And they ain't around to tell 'em. I can sit here and keep wishin' a better storyteller in the know will happen through, but they ain't gonna come."

The Viper's free hand grasped the back of the chair as she heaved herself to her feet with grunt of effort. Then her drink touched her lips as she surveyed the area for a moment, getting her bearings in order to will herself to share a story that must be told.

"Suppose he wants us to tell them at the head of the room?" Aster asked.

The Viper nodded as Blaze mused she was likely welcome to tell her tale as she remained by the pool.

"If I'm speaking of the dead, the grapevine ain't enough," Aster replied, "Rather they heard it from my lips than hear it from some random who might get the details wrong. They're owed that respect."

Thus, the serpentine Beast ascended, standing on top of her lounge chair to afford herself greater elevation. Hopefully, it also served as a sign to others nearby that the Viper had something to say. 

“Henley is right,” Aster said, pushing her voice above the din of the party, “We have all lost friends. Neighbors. Comrades. I think it’s important to share their stories as well.”

Then a pause reigned for some moments as Aster considered how to tell the tale and keep enough interest to keep the spirit of Chico alive. Eventually, the Beast began to think that the best way to gain the attention of other guests was to just start talking. Those who subscribed to the ideals presented by Henley would listen or they would imbibe in baser desires.

A glance was offered to Queen Philicia, her eyes locking unto the incoming sovereign for as long as she could bear it.

“I ain’t got no glory of my own, Your Majesty. I’m just a bruiser. Nothin’ more, nothin’ less,” the Viper admitted, “but I’ve witnessed tales worth telling and I aim to see them remembered.”

Looking back to the crowd, Aster would continue.

“I speak of Chico, our lost sister-hold to the northwest, now fallen from an onslaught of the Gentry, Loyalists, and others enslaved to Their will,” she offered, “but there’s more to the End of Chico than death. More than loss and mourning. I know this because I was there. And, far as I can tell, I am the only one here in Las Vegas who can speak for the fallen, as I, alone, have witnessed them.”

The serpentine Beast would raise her glass aloft.

“It is my privilege to honor them,” she continued, “Tonight, I honor Susanoo, the King of Blades, who took up his swords the night pacts were broken and misdirection failed. King Susanoo rallied the Iron Spear to push into the Hedge and met the Host with teeth, claws, and metal. He slew champions, beasts, and bannermen, cutting deep into the forces of the enemy even as they drew his blood in turn. And he did it for the life of the Freehold, giving his own and ordering his warriors to retreat when defeat became clear so that they might see to those who yet survived in the Freehold itself.”

Aster paused, granting her former sovereign a moment of silence, bowing her head in respect before raising it some moments later to name another hero of Chico.

“I honor Etain, first among the Archivists of Winter, a scholar who rose to defend her own sovereign from assassination at the cost of her own life,” Aster said, “Without her sacrifice, wise Morozko would not have lived to provide his counsel and convince the survivors that Chico was lost. Without his wisdom, we would have remained, propelled by our want to defend our home and fooled by the Gentry’s withdrawal. We would have been doomed to fall at the Gentry’s whim, but Etain’s sacrifice ensured we would live to begin new lives in new cities.”

A moment of respect was offered again.

“And I honor Hannah, a young Lost bearing no Mantle nor standing in Chico before its fall,” Aster said, relaying her gratitude to the deceased Courtless, “but who opened her home to the wounded. Warriors, sentries, and civilians all came to rest, heal, and hide from the horrors of war. Hannah hid them from the hungry patrols of the Gentry and prevented many who were too wounded to fight from returning to the battlefield to face pointless death. She later established more foxholes and safehouses as the conflict pushed on. Hannah would later die in her attempts to retrieve the wounded, cut down by a Huntsman when she would not betray her charges, but those who had reached her network would endure to the end. We emerged wounded, but alive.”

The talking was getting easier as the Viper progressed, sharing the tales of heroes of whom she had never spoken. The tension in her body began to alleviate, her voice growing confident and assured as she mused over the lessons of Chico's downfall.

“Hannah. Susanoo. Etain. Each a Child of Chico who had given all they had to ensure the survival of something they deemed worth saving… Freedom and the single truth that each life freed from the grip of the Gentry is a victory. And these three were only a few whose valor is worthy of song in the last days of Chico.”

“However, as long as the hearts of those who survived its fall still beat, Chico will never fully die,” Aster mused, “It is my honor and my burden to be among those whose survival was paid for in their blood. I ain’t a bard or a poet, but the dead can’t always speak for themselves. More often it’s left to the living to ensure they are remembered. So I speak now because I must.”

“As Henley said, heroes are meant to be rewarded and, for those we have lost, the greatest reward we can offer is the gift of memory. In the end, what remains of each of us as we pass into death is a story, one which the Gentry cannot craft in earnest. It is these stories they hate most, because when we speak of the dead, we are not speaking of Them. This is why these stories must be told.”

Aster let the air hang still for a moment, offering the gathered a moment to process all she had told them and to honor the Courtless who had saved her life among many others.

“It is my hope that tonight, we do not focus only on the glories of ourselves, but that we remember well the stories of those who have gone,” Aster concluded, “And, in the season of rebirth, we can allow ourselves to celebrate them. Mourning is meant for the living. The time has come to celebrate those who have paved the paths and remember their Glory and their Humility. Their Fury and their Kindness. The time has come to honor them as they would wish to be honored.”

Aster looked to the sky, determined and inspired as she aimed to finish her piece. Aster aimed to give a story, even providing a few brief ones of some of Chico’s notables in its last days, but it had become more of a speech and now the Viper felt as though she was wasting time. Still, she had done what she set out to do. She had spoken about Chico and some of its people.

With a little luck, maybe it’d help some people in the community steer away from petty vendettas and ultimately unimportant, material struggles. It’d probably get people thinking at least and, to Aster, that was a win.

“Tonight, let’s toast to the glory of the past, the glory yet to come, and the heroes among us who usher these moments forward,” she called, “As long as we speak of their deeds, their memory will never die!”

The cheers given, Aster finally, lowered her glass, downing the cocktail entirely in swift fashion. Afterwards, she descended, stepping down to join Blaze.

"It's done," Aster said, "It'll have to do."