The rising of the sun and beautiful songs of the birds outside the window rouse me from my nap. Now knowing that I’m capable of getting up on my own, I stand in my nap box and smile around at the devastation that is my Happy Place.
Yesterday was so much fun. I wonder when we can do it again.
Pretties are strewn around the room, piled onto couches, mattresses, blankets on the floor, tangles of limbs and hair.
As the sun rises some of the pretties start to groggily wake up and begin their day. Hilda and Peach, seeming more cheerful and rosy than most the others, grab pots and wooden spoons…
~DONG DONG DONG DONG DONG~
“Rise and shine!” They scream through their symphony of noise.
With staggered groans and shouts to shut up, all the pretties get up and begin shuffling things back around the room, reorganizing things and putting it all back to normal~ish. Well, not all the pretties. I think Alice is snoring upside down in that vase.
On second look, maybe half of them are moving. The rest are just being scooped off the floor and shoved onto bunks, two or three at a time.
Lady Wisemore climbs out of a tangle of limbs, looking a bit sheepish, and starts picking discarded clothing projectile balls up off the floor, shaking them out, and organizing them into piles.
I’m hungry. Should I watch them clean up or just eat breakfast? Yeah… food sounds good. “Wa waaa wooo!” I giggle.
Nia, whose long silver hair is now down at her knees - spilling out of her normally complex weavings of braids - scoops me out of my nap box.
Slurring her speech, “Wait, what did we decide on last night? I remember giving him a name, putting him down to sleep, and continuing…” she gestures around the room “... this. But what was it? Honey badger?”
Lady Wisemore, seeming more cognizant than the pretties at this moment, shouts from across the room, “Ratel. You all agreed, which means I won.”
A voice, muffled from inside a vase, groans out, “Ugh. Why did we agree to that? It’s so much less epic than Raiden… or Lucien. Hell, Idris sounds cooler.” -pause- “A little help?”
Ruth, smirking, walks over to where the bottom half of Alice is sticking out of an empty vase. “I gotchu.” And proceeds to start tickling Alice.
Alice starts thrashing, screaming, and sobbing. She is definitely stuck. I have no idea how she managed to get that far into the vase and get stuck given her shape, but maybe she’s more squishy on top then bottom?
After a moment Esmeralda and Aaliyah come wandering over and, each grabbing a leg, pull Alice out of the vase. Alice looks awful. Her brown hair is poofed out in every direction, but flattened on the top, and her normally light pale skin is flushed red bordering on blue/purple. Her eyes are droopy and puffy. With a murmured “thanks” she staggers over to one of the bunks that have been put back in their place, having grabbed a blanket and pillow on her way there, and crawls under it to take a nap.
Amy, grabbing her own pillow and blanket, follows Alice. “Yeah, no. Too small and sleepy for all this.”
It takes about an hour, but the Happy Place is all cleaned up and back to normal. The pretties are all sitting around eating breakfast with Lady Wisemore - Lawawawi? Pbhhtpt, no. - when Violet interjects. “Should we perhaps take him to be officially registered, blessed, have his talent measured, or something? I just feel like we should throw him a party or do something special now that his name is Ratel. Isn’t that right little Ratel?”
Vawweb is making funny faces at me. The pretties start pointing at me and saying ‘Ratel’. Is that me? Am I Ratel?
“Bwha wa woo wa wibloo?” I babble pointing at myself. Man language is HARD! I’m getting it but making the sounds and learning them all isn’t easy.
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“Was last night not enough of a wild party for Ratel’s naming?” Esmeralda chimes in, pointing a cleanly licked spoon at me.
Gwen replies with a mouth full of toast and jam, “Well, it was a hell of a party. And we did literally throw little Ratel around in celebration until he passed out. I dunno if I can do another party like that for a while. I’m… sore…”
There’s mutterings of agreement while the conversation descends back to idle chatter.
Sitting in my little seat around the table I look down at my pudgy fists. Is it my imagination or are they getting a touch bigger? They feel stronger and easier to move. I wiggle my fingers and find them both equally comfortable to move. I start tapping out a rhythm on my chair and dance back and forth.
The motion makes me incredibly happy for some reason and I start giggling and swaying while trying to sing a little song I made up to go with the tapping.
“Bwa Bwa” *tap* “waaaaa” *tap* ~tap-tap~ “Bwa Bwa” *tap* “waaaaa” *tap* ~tap-tap~ *clap*
“Bwa Bwa” *tap* “waaaaa” *tap* ~tap-tap~ “Bwa Bwa” *tap* “waaaaa” *tap* ~tap-tap~ *clap*
“You know…” Aaliyah starts, “We haven’t got together and put on a performance in the park for quite some time. Almost a year now, and it is early Spring. Maybe we should take Ratel out and throw a little impromptu concert. Show him around and boost the morale of the people. It was a cold and rough winter for many.”
As breakfast finishes up Lady Wisemore smiles, says something that makes the pretties’ eyes light up - and then they practically shove her out the door. There’s another flurry of motion as chairs, stools, cases, sticks, round box things, and lots of interesting looking stuff that is kept out of my reach, are scooped up.
I’m picked up and put in a soft blankey that’s tied around Gemma’s neck. It’s comfy and secure. I can climb up a bit and look out and around, but there’s no way I’m falling out of this little hammock.
The pretties are all wearing brightly colored shiny looking robes in blues, pinks, greens, and yellows. Aaliyah’s is made of a bunch of hanging ribbons of different lengths and colors with patterns on them.
Just before we leave each of the pretties puts a piece of cloth on that covers their face. Huh? Why would they not want everyone to see how pretty they all are?
Gemma falls into the middle of the line and we all file out of the tower and into the town.
I stare and marvel at the outside again. It smells so nice. I can smell food, flowers, air, smoke, soot, wood, spices, metal, dirt, stone, grass, and so much more. The bright light is warm and cozy. The wind sings a little song as it swirls through the trees and down the alleys all around me. Puffy clouds in a bright blue sky make today just so nice.
I sway with the breeze in my neck hammock and babble along with it.
After a bit of walking, teasing, name calling, and gathering a huge crowd as the pretties skip through the street, we arrive at a massive green park with a huge stone fist in the middle.
The fountain is beautiful, made of a white stone streaked with lines of gold. The fist looks to be squeezing the sky with enough power for water to spray out from between the fingers in a mist that captures the sun - spreading rainbows through the air.
All around the base of the fountain are beautiful flowers and lilies growing in a stone basin sunken into the ground. The mist continues past the edge of the basin that holds the flowers and lands on the grass, where a gaggle of tiny giants are skipping through and grabbing at the water and rainbows.
Just across from the fist is a little cluster of trees that have their branches woven together to create an arch of shade that creates an almost perfectly circular resting area.
“The acoustics are always best in the grove.” Merrygold says before skipping over and saying something to the people sitting together in the shade. As one they smile brightly and pack up quickly.
Gemma unfolds one of the stools and sits down in it, facing the grove with the fist fountain behind us. A dozen of the pretties quickly set up the odd things they’re carrying in a little arrangement.
Priscilla takes a stance before the pretties, but with her back to us. She snaps her tiny fingers together; *snap* *snap* *snap*
As one, the pretties start making beautiful sounds. Priscilla is waving her arms, tapping her foot, snapping her fingers, and the rest are just following along with her as if entranced playing on their instruments.
After a short count, as people are turning to watch, Aaliyah - who had been as still as a statue - comes alive. She flows with the music in a way I’ve never seen before. I could never imagine a person moving like that. Her dress is just as alive as she is, as she pivots and glides and bends.
Her dress, made of hundreds of colored ribbons, takes on a life of its own, dancing gracefully with the wind and music in a way that blurs the line between where a person is dancing and where the world itself is part of the music.
Entranced, I stare. My body starts to move and sway along with her. I become one with her dance, with the music, with the world around me. It’s so beautiful.
I come back to myself as the music and the dance fades to silence.
Whistles, cheers, and screams echo around me. There are so many people!
The park is absolutely bursting at the seams with people. They’re packed shoulder to shoulder. Standing, sitting, lounging. There’s an empty space where Aaliyah was dancing - but everywhere else I can see is full of people.
I see Lady Wisemore and a bunch of other people in armor gathered around the park, seeming to have brought people from across the entire city to watch the performance.
“Today we celebrate someone special to us. We Sisters of the Broken Hearth have, together, claimed a lost soul of our own.” She points at me, “This little one has helped each of us heal and mend, to smile and feel the warmth of the sun again, to be able to walk amongst the people and no longer be crushed by our grief. Today we wish to proclaim to the world his name, Ratel. If you enjoy our performance, give your thanks to Ratel.”
I feel a million eyes turn to me. I can feel their acknowledgement, their excitement. They begin clapping. A feeling of contentment, of belonging, settles onto my shoulders as something swells around me. A force, an energy, flows deep into the core of my being. The energy flows through me, into me, past me, and links to the people around me.
The music and dancing starts back up again.