Commodore Taybrim - Festival Festivities
Jamie LeBlanc
(( Time skip - Voss Manor grounds, Bellonphain, Betazed ))
After sixteen very gregarious and polite declines of potential matchmaking from Ardeena with various members of her family, extended family, neighbors, and attractive ladies she simply knew of (and who were, of course, within her house in the broad terms, rather than the specific ones) and three hours of charming conversation, Sal Taybrim had finally exhausted his extroversion and in a master move of diplomatic ninjitsu, excused himself to freshen up.
And then after a short bit of much needed down time, he re-emerged in a slightly elevated form of his warm bronze Betazoid suit with the asymmetrical front split and matching slacks. His hair brushed back, well groomed, smelling faintly of the favored woodsmoke scent that was traditional at this festival he was bright eyed and smiling when he met with his friends.
Voss: I’m so… I don’t even know where to start with her. I’m sorry. She means well somewhere deep inside, but Four help me, sometimes it feels like its really deep.
Sylvax: Every family has its gravitational center. Yours simply happens to be… very energetic.
McLaren: Theres nothing to apologize for.
Sal offered a good natured chuckle.
Taybrim: You haven’t met my mother and I pray to the rings that you never do.
The slightest indication that he had dealt with worse. Much worse.
Voss: Well, as long as you’re sure you don’t want to run from here screaming, let’s head toward the bonfires?
Sylvax: Lead the way.
McLaren: Right behind you.
Taybrim: Let’s go!
There was a spring in his step, though he allowed Lyra to lead. This wasn’t his home after all, and he was content to hang back and absorb everything, from the art and architecture to the complex emotional tapestry of the revelers around him.
Voss: ::pointing out the stalls:: There’ll be a bigger street fair tomorrow, but there are always a few people here tonight selling trevellas. They’re sort of… stand-in objects? When Vestus started, it was customary to burn items that represented the things you want to let go of - photographs or letters or trinkets - but with holophotos and PADDs and all that, obviously those aren’t safe to burn, so people started selling trevellas. They’re usually made of wood or paper. Beautiful too. Sometimes you’re almost tempted to keep them.
Sylvax: Symbolic offerings for the fire. ::He picked one up carefully, turning it between his fingers.:: I like that. Letting something go with intention. It feels… appropriate for a festival about renewal.
McLaren: Very enlightened.
Taybrim: It can also feel very… freeing. Sometimes what we carry imprisons us. It is good to let that go.
Sylvax: Do people usually know what they’re letting go of when they pick one of these? Or do they figure it out once they’re standing in front of the fire?
McLaren: I imagine it depends on the person... some people probably know the moment they pick up one of these... :: she held up the trevella, spinning it between her forefinger and thumb so it rotated slowly. :: Others probably take their time figuring it out.
Taybrim: I find that it also changes as you change – and the more you participate. When I was younger I would try to ferret out what was holding me back and plan fastidiously what I would give up. That… actually didn’t work so well, no matter how good my intentions were.
And now? Sal was far older and he had plenty of time to step back and take a good long look at himself. And in the quiet moments sometimes answers bubbled up. Sometimes those were answers that he simply did not want to hear. But he had to face them, grapple with them, and the release them. It ended up writing new stories of his life.
Voss: ?
Sylvax: I imagine there’s a story behind that tradition somewhere.
Voss: ?
Taybrim: For a society that is so closely connected through telepathy, the ability – and expectation – that you should let wounds of the past go is a critical part of keeping society and bonds stable and healthy.
That was the Commodore and the counselor talking.
Sylvax: I think I’m starting to understand why you insisted we come tonight.
McLaren: Its a lovely night. Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves.
Voss: ?
Taybrim: Some houses float the fires on the water so you can see them reflected in the ripples as they burn. Some make the trevellas like little balloons which float up into the air when you light them and eventually burn away to ash. Some have a massive cathartic bonfire with music and dancing. ::he thought for a moment:: Well, usually there is music and dancing just because we like music and dancing.
Sal remembered floating the trevellas on the water, watching them sparkle until they finally flared and sunk. Thousands of sparkling lights that would gently travels away until they were gone. It was a comforting memory.
McLaren: Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves.
Voss/Sylvax: Response?
Taybrim: It wouldn’t be a festival without festivities!
McLaren: This is quite the festival already...
Voss/Sylvax: Response?
Taybrim: Well, I’ve never been to Vestus of the sixteenth house before. So I defer to Lyra’s guidance.
Voss/Sylvax/McLaren: ?
Sal chuckled with high humor.
Taybrim: I will contact my brothers tomorrow. Tonight I wish to simply enjoy the time as it is, taking in the ceremonies and music and conversations right here, right now.
Voss/Sylvax/McLaren: ?
Taybrim: If that is your tradition, I say we check it out!
Voss/Sylvax/McLaren: ?
~*~
tags/tbc
~*~
Commodore Sal Taybrim
Sector Commander
~Julian Beck
E239010ST0