event: a gentle festival

[thestewards]

we're all just working pieces trying to fit somewhere
We wander 'round in circles and we talk in squares

► The OOC plotting post for this event can be found here.

► Direct all questions to the mods at this link.

► All NPCs except for Queen Fayura can be met at this event. Use their top-levels in the plotting post if you'd like a thread with them for this event. For your convenience, you can reach out here: Allairavar, Verim, Loren, Niall, Grejor, and Raya. They may choose to wander into your threads should you not plan anything out with them, too.

PARTY PLANNING
Dawn arrives and brings with it another group of Strangers. Unlike the first group, you wake to a comfortable bed and cheery birdsong. Unlike the second group, you are expected. As you rise, a vase with spring flowers appears on the table beside your bed. Tucked beneath the vase, you find a message of welcome inviting you to join the Queen and her residence for breakfast.

Following directions given by footmen throughout the residence’s winding halls, you make your way toward breakfast, only to find that breakfast is a beautiful disaster.

Maids and footmen rush around you, choreographed by a red haired witch standing on a chair in the middle of the entry hall. She wears an apron and a look of fierce concentration. Beside her, a list floats in the air. Pinned to her hair, her Tiger Eye Jewel flashes and swirls with power. You suspect you should just sneak out, but she’s too observant.

“You there!”

You freeze. Maybe you had a mother with eyes in the back of her head who always knew where you were. Maybe that was a teacher or some other kind of mentor. Regardless, you know this voice. You know this tone. This is a person harried and pressed, and she probably doesn’t care that you haven’t eaten breakfast yet.

“Yes, you! Stranger!”

You turn toward her and abruptly find your arms full of banners. Closer inspection will reveal each flag sewn to the cord bears a different symbol: one for the Guilds (a hexagon with circles at each joint), the Ebon Council (a pair of Jewels side by side), and Fayura’s Court (a strange, spiraling spear against a mountain peak); a sun and a moon; a cloud flush with rain and lightning; and a sprouting plant.

“Make sure those get hung on the eaves outsi—no, I haven’t seen the Lady, Carlisle, but if you—”

A Blood male has distracted her, but you’re left with the distinct impression that if you don’t hang these banners, the Head Housekeeper will hunt you down (you would be correct). Not to worry: you’re not the only Stranger living in the residence, and it takes you little time to locate someone else with an equally bomb-blasted look on their face to help you help the residence prepare for the spring festival! There are flags to be hung, simple breads to be baked, stalls to be built in the Bazaar, and so much more. Your hands work, and so you work.


HOPE BLOOMS ETERNAL
At sundown, the festival begins in earnest: people take to the streets in every section of the city, pouring into the Old Town Bazaar with rosy cheeks and broad smiles. The spring festival will last for the next six days. Three days to celebrate, and three days to work.

All around the city, banners hang from and between homes and businesses. Some fluttering banners bear flags emblazoned with only the Guilds’ symbol or the Council’s or the Court’s, and there are far more Guild banners than any other—a result of the Strangers’ providing support to the Guilds no doubt. But mixed among them are flags bearing both the Queen’s mountain, too, just not as many, and the only place the Council’s flags hang are over Blood homes.

As you make your way through the Bazaar, you hear…

A young landen man: I’ve heard the Queen is going to honor the Earth Mother and Father Sky during planting in a few days, and—
His companion, an older woman: The Blood honor only death and their Darkness. What does she care for our beliefs?

A Blood farmer: …kind of gift. Don’t quite know what to make of a Queen giving anything.
A landen farmer: Anything to help the crops grow. The Guilds mean well, but the land is overworked.

An excited little girl: —ride the unicorn, mommy! There’s a unicorn and a dragon and a centaur and a—

Near the pavilion at the heart of the Bazaar, the landen Guilds have erected technological wonders. A carousel of glittering bronze and metal lights up the night with rainbow colors. Music spills out of it, cheerful and bright as its three rings turn in lazy revolutions. Unicorns and dragons and centaurs and mermaids stand as mounts for the young and old. Nearby, the Elektriline Guild prepares a light show, projecting fantastical shapes in dazzling colors on the sides of buildings and into the night sky itself. Around the park to the south of the Bazaar, the Transport Guild has set up a racing track for unicycles and tricycles.

Booths with games line the streets. Knock down the glass bottles! Throw the ring around the spoke! Win prizes to dazzle your loved ones and delight your children!

While food has certainly been scarce, the bakeries and charcuteries have brought out their best fare at surprisingly reasonable prices. This is a time to celebrate the end of winter and the beginning of spring, and celebrate the city will.

While the Blood dress in nice clothes, the landens bring out costumes. As is tradition, some dress as Father Sky, wearing crowns of gold and flowing robes of white. Others cloak themselves in the vestments of Mother Earth: wearing costumes of green and brown, painting vines over their faces to disguise themselves and crowning themselves in garlands of crocuses and tulips. Whispers through the Bazaar say the Queen is among them, disguised as Mother Earth.


SOWING THE FUTURE
The fourth morning of the festival, the entire city rises with the dawn. Over the past three days, a strange rumor wound its way through Draega: Fayura will join the planting to give a gift unique to the Queens of the Blood.

Members of the Ebon Council and the Guilds organize groups, directing the bodies of the entire city to go to this farm or that as they step out from behind Draega’s tall, protective walls. But before you are dismissed to help till the land or plant grain seeds, you join a larger crowd at a nearby farm. The Blood airwalk, standing above the landen crowds to gain a better view.

At the head of a recently tilled field, Queen Fayura stands with a landen farmer. He grasps his hat, wringing it fiercely in his hands as her Steward, Master of the Guard, and Consort stand guard behind her. Dressed in greens and browns, crowned in a garland of crocuses that drips dried stalks of wheat down her hair, she kneels before a bucket. She calls in a knife. When she speaks, she doesn’t raise her voice, but Craft projects it across the assembled onlookers. “Blood sings to blood. This is a gift: freely offered,” she says. “Freely given.” Bright red blood blooms across her palm as she drags the blade through skin. Vanishing the knife, she closes her fist and squeezes, allowing the blood to fall into the bucket of water and mix with it.

Her Consort heals her wound when she holds out her hand, and then he steps back. She rises, picking up the bucket and taking hold of the ladle on the ground beside it. Her voice lifts in song. Though the language is unrecognizable, the melody is beautiful and full of the vibrant hope of spring. She sings as she walks along the furrows, sprinkling bloodied water on the land. Blood and Strangers alike feel the pull of magic as something in the earth itself unfurls, shuddering awake at the call of the Queen’s blood.

For the next three days, nearly every man, woman, and child in Draega assists with the planting. Children do small, simple tasks, and the older children watch over the younger ones. The adults drag plows through the warming land and spread seeds in the furrows the plows create. Queen Fayura visits each field in turn, and planting doesn’t begin until she’s sprinkled her water over the earth. Throughout the day, her vibrant song echoes around the city, and a few Blood girls, too young to yet wear a Jewel, take up the song and hum along with it.

You would do well to help the farmers. You may not have a strong arm or strong back, but there’s planting to be done and people to organize, feed, and care for.


AIR TIME
Whether you catch the news on a Far-caster in the city or you’re spinning the dial on your own device, you’ll hear…

etiquette with evandra and aren
[Evandra's voice is a little bit rough and a little bit husky, the kind of voice that gives bad ideas to young men and headaches to fathers.] …do we make of a Warlord Prince’s reaction to his Queen’s blood?

[Aren, whose voice is typically chipper and bright, sounds today much more seriously than usual.] It’s a dangerous thing. Elemental, you might say. Like a storm. Every Prince is dangerous when his Lady’s blood spills.

[Evandra:] So, are we in danger when the Queen does whatever ritual she’s doing?

[Aren:] No. The Blood put great importance on, well, blood. It’s the memory’s river. Power sings in blood. It carries strength and Craft. I’ve never seen a Queen do anything like this before, but her Princes—and her court—treat it like ceremony. And it probably is.

the weather
[A soft-spoken man’s voice rumbles out of the Far-caster. He’s pleasant to listen to, with a soothing cadence to his voice.] …continued rains with intermittent sunshine over the next few days as the days grow steadily warmer. Remember that rains coming out of Askavi are dangerous to your health, and salves for lesions from exposure can be purchased from the Medicos at…

the news
[Garret speaks at his brisk pace, hurried and harried as though he has too much to say and not enough time to say it.] A new development in the story of the young landen man who shot and killed Councilwoman Vera last month: the Strangers have influenced the Queen to bring together a Tribunal not of other Queens—

[Wilt, as usual, is put upon and nasally.] As though there are many of those to go around.

[Garret, continuing as though Wilt didn’t interrupt him:] —but of the landen man’s peers, both landen and Blood.

[Wilt, sighing:] That’s correct, Garret. It seems this Tribunal of three landens and three Blood will listen to the young man’s account, as well as the stories of other witnesses, and determine a suitable punishment. This will be presented to the Queen, and she will carry out the sentence.

[Garret:] Looking now to the warming weather and what that means for trade with the mercenary settlements outside of Draega—

Comments

[kesi]

i. party planning running ragged

[Differently from some others Takame got to work as soon as he was called, scurrying around the residence with an armful of decorations, banners, and other party favors to get them where they needed to go. With most native residents he came across, more was asked of him, which he accepted with no sign of irritation or back talk otherwise. Every request for assistance was answered with his characteristic “of course”, “it will be done”, “understood”.

When his hands were too full to carry anything more, they began to hang what they needed put up from his horns and hair tail and yet still he didn't complain, performing his duty with diligence even if he can't entirely see where he's going and bumps shoulders with someone as a result.]

Apologies...

[He's being taken advantage of a bit, for sure. But maybe the one he bumped could offer a helping hand to this exorbitantly decorated Au Ra? Or scold him for bumping. Or heck, maybe YOU'RE the one taking advantage.]

ii. blooming hope brings out allergies to fun

[Hints of apprehension were painted across Takame's face despite the jovial atmosphere. From his peripheral vision he's spotted one too many brazen muter toting landens. Breakers as well though he had less right to preach being never too far from his own weapon.

Though that was heavy on his mind, the scenery and hope the festival brought in was a good change of pace, if somewhat intimidating. He was no stranger to festivals, but often when he attended them he was pulled into what his sister thought the most fun, bouncing erratically between booths and making him try one of every food. When those memories flashed into his mind one might find a rare smile come onto his face. Besides that he'll likely be standing to the sidelines of a game both, a food stall or that rotating apparatus with the fake animals, watching others partake of the festivities rather than getting involved himself.]

iii. green something

[He was out of his element. One of his earliest memories was residing in a village known for its rice. But he had no experience himself in tending crops and it showed as he sought approval from whomever was beside him at the time he had two saplings set too close to one another. He would learn, try. It may pave the way for something he may find a talent in.

On another day he may be providing extra muscle work for further land in need of plowing. Never the most talkative person, but ever reliable even through fatigue that made itself gradually more apparent as the day winded down and he showed no sign of stopping. Give him a towel and tell him to take five?]

iv. wild card

[HIT ME. my plurk is @ bonpuns.]

party planning

[agentlenpc]

[ Verim has not been exempted from the stern guidance of the household witches that are determined to see every last spec of dust cleaned and each corner properly adorned. He makes no real fuss about it, accepting his assigned tasks with easy grace.

Well, until the witch comes in with another batch of decorations and a determined scowl on her face. She approaches Takame first, and Verim, kind soul that he is, intervenes. ]

Lady Siira, I believe the cook was looking for you earlier and wanted your opinion on how best to coordinate the trays for the food with the decor. [ The Lady in question eyes him with a gaze filled with suspicion compared to Verim expression of perfect innocence. She huffs and leaves without issuing them further orders.

It is then that Verim groans and flops into the nearest chair, gesturing for Takame to do the same. ] I've bought us ten minutes at best. Make use of them.

[kesi]

[Fully willing was Takame to take on Lady Siira's request, whatever it may have been. Not that he was going to find out after Verim showed up.]

L--Prince Verim?

[When he dismissed Sirra Takame looked to him, then back to the exiting Siira, then back to Verim as he sat down. While he was somewhat unsure, but he would not dare question the Queen's consort. There was work to be done, absolutely, but Verim's will was highest priority in this moment.]

Yes, of course. Thank you. [Even as he sat down, he kept the decorations on his person hanging from Everywhere. Sitting down didn't even seem to relax him, try as he might.]

[agentlenpc]

Lord Takame, if you don't take rest when you can, then you'll find yourself run into the ground by well meaning witches. [ He sounds lightly amused. Serious, but also amused. ] Hearth witches are a singularly dedicated lot.

[kesi]

You... have the right of it. [Whether Takame picked up on Verim's amusement at his expense wasn't clear, but he wouldn't comment on it either way. He probably did look quite a sight all things considered.]

Ah, it is no bother. There is much to be done, I cannot blame them for their... enthusiasm.

ii

[agentlenpc]

[To be quite frank, Grejor finds the entirety of how landens celebrate their festivals to be revoltingly frivolous, noisy, and hedonistic. As he makes his way through the streets of the Old Town Bazaar, there only for the sake of appearance, he fights to keep a sneer of his face. He dabs his face with a scented handkerchief as he walks through the streets even though the only delicious scents of fried food fills the air.

He looks utterly out of place. Where the landens are dressed simply, Grejor looks like he'd be more at home at an opera or some fancy event in his black suit and white shirt; his only nod to color is a dark, violet scarf about his throat, hidden by the thick coat he wears buttoned halfway up his chest. He walks with a cane topped with black marble threaded with veins of red, perhaps a presumption or a statement of desire. He has never been satisfied with his Purple Dusk Jewel. Has always hungered for something more.

As he wends through the streets, he pauses beside a booth where children scream and shout. Their laughter splits the air and his ears, and he scowls, turning to the Stranger standing nearby.]

Landen festivals are always so... loud.

[He says "loud" but what he means is "uncultured."]

I apologize for their... absurdity. Our people are not all so frivolous and foolhardy.

[kesi]

[It took Takame a moment to recognize the voice addressing him. He didn't fully until he turned around and matched a face to a voice and finally to a name. So this was him, this Lord Grejor. Sticking out like a sore thumb among the costumes and positive energy.

"Be wary of Lord Grejor", the memory of Fayura's voice repeated in his mind.

Where there was a gentle sway of his tail before, it had ceased completely and his guard increased tenfold. Still, he would not ignore the man, nor disparage him.]

... 'Tis a time of celebration. You've no need to apologize for the noise. Least of all to me.

[agentlenpc]

On the contrary. Landen celebrations are... wild, barely civilized things. One half expects the lot of them to give into hedonism on the very streets.

[Grejor's lip curls slightly.]

I'm sure you understand. Certainly, of all the Strangers, you are more like us than any other.

[kesi]

[He crossed his arms, tilting his head curiously.]

I'm afraid I do not follow, my lord.

party planning!

[inducings]

[ Piper no longer lives in the Queen's residence, but she is attending early morning practices. Which means she's able to get breakfast there, which means... she's fair game to be told what to do.

She doesn't mind helping out for a little while, planning to make her escape in the afternoon. She was just stepping down from the step ladder where she'd been dusting when Kesi rounded the corner, half-blinded by all he's carrying. ]

Oh! Are you okay? [ She bends to start picking up what's been dropped before doing a subtle double-take at his appearance. ]

[kesi]

[Takame is used to strange looks at his appearance, one too many people have whispered to themselves on how there is a "dragon-man" living in the Queen's residence. Of course this time the so-called dragon person was basically a supply rack. It was why he didn't pay mind to the looks Piper gave him.]

I am, pardon me. I... couldn't see. [He shook his head slightly, if only to move the banner covering his field of vision out of it so that he could kneel and help her pick up. For all the Echo did for his eyesight, he still couldn't see through solid objects after all.]

[inducings]

[ Look. If you are 5"7 and from a world where most people do not have horns and scales then running into someone who does, double-takes are necessary at times. She adapts quickly. It's not the first time she's seen him, after all, even if it's the first time they've spoken. ]

I can't imagine why.

[ She reaches over to... remove the banner on his horn, actually. He reminds her, just a little bit, Achelous, who she'd rather liked despite the fact that he'd tried to kill her boyfriend and tried to take her as his bride. But he was the only other person she'd ever met with horns, so... ]

I've just finished dusting in here. What are you doing, just carrying these to who needs them? I can help you out with that.

[kesi]

[It'll be quite a day if she learns he's extremely short for his race at 6'5. He tried to make note of every individual who arrived in the Queen's Residence, Piper included, but his mind noted her specifically having been absent from all but the morning drills which he diligently attended.]

Indeed, towards the northwestern wing of the Residence are one of each faction's banners to be delivered immediately. And these [He lifted the tangled mess of lit up globes on strings slightly.] to be hung near the banners outside right away.

[He's very specific with the directions he was given. Under different circumstances he would politely decline the help, but since she already took it upon herself to take the banner hanging off his horn it was her wish to do so and he wouldn't deny her.]

That would be more efficient. I would be most thankful for your help.

ii!

[1019]

[Ohhh, ha ha, what was that about him just... chilling alongside game booths?

Because Lucas knows he's got an audience at the moment! And knows, likewise, that he's just one toss of a ring away from scoring himself some memento or another! Fine damn way to commemorate his "new life" opening with a goddamn fair, right???

He ticks his eyes aside to the stranger. Nose scrunching and licking between an increasingly-curving smirk - the spirit of THIS is how it's done...!!! - as he leans back in a careen on his backmost leg, front one kicking lightly in the air before he leans back in hard -- !

Spins the damn ring! His eyes widening and brightening for a sec...!

-- Before - an instant switch to a "gasp! Betrayed...!" scowl as the ring just... bounces with a faint ting! off the side of its peg.

Face... furrowing around that look - eh -- excuse me -- ?!]

-- Maaaaan, what the hell -- ...?!

[All in a nice and tart drawl. As he rocks back and forth between his legs.

Steadily turning to the stranger. Face blanking, the rock from leg to leg maintaining, as he... half-assedly aims a point aside at the wrist. A little extra hardening in his brow as his deliver flutes higher - a very, very fake "scoff-laughing it off"...!]

-- Did that look fair to you?!

[An extra-big widening of his eyes on cue with a glance goddamn shot at the... main playing field...! Before swingin' back in to hold, gawking, at the guy's face...!

It's... a subconscious intimidation gesture. "HA HA HA, I'M RIGHT. AREN'T I, LITTLE PLAY-TOY THAT DOESN'T WANNA GET SKEWERED...! LET'S PLAY A NEW GAME TO GET MY FUCKIN' MIND OFF IT!"

But... yeah.

Here, he's just some skinny guy, probably.]

[kesi]

[Theatrical displays, a swing and a miss, and intimidation factors alike, to all of Lucas' aggressive moments and shouting, Takame did not budge an inch. Not even when he got close, he didn't even blink. The only indicator that he was paying attention at all was that his eyes followed every move of both the unfortunate man and the ring.

Without blinking as Lucas' request was clearly to be payed attention to. It was only before he spoke, and even then after a longer than necessary silence, did he blink even once. These boisterous types weren't too unlike the pirates he encountered in Limsa Lominsa. And they had the advantage over this Hyur of a Roegadyn build.]

Yes. [Stated blankly, not even as a question, and yet he still gives this man a level of encouragement as his sister did when others failed at a festival game.] Might you give it another try? You may yet do better. [...said sister had an uplifting voice rather than his dry one coming off as a complete lack of regard.]

[1019]

[PFFFHUH -- god, don't you god-damn... patronize him...!! HE --

outright flinches and just represses an "NGH -- !" with a little -- hfffff, not-quite-masked KICK in the air, head dropped and angled aside --

-- but!

But!

-- You know what, asshole?! HE'S -- he's gonna call your dang bluff...!

His shoulders... all but shudder with a collapse as... half the muscles in his upper body go limp. He falls into a goddamn shambling hunch, 'fore... actually managing to shake out a li'l ol' stream of half-dry laughs.]

...HahaHAAA, haaaahhh...!

[As he... turns back to the game stands.

The bridge of his nose scrunches.

In the rebound off of it, his brow skews to a slant and an arch. Ehhh? ...Ehhh-frickin'-ehhhh?!

Still... dry-throated. And picking out its cadence slower, and steadier, and purposeful.]

...You wanna make a bet, per-chance...?

[Practically bites his lip as a pinning point to -- "yank" his smile up a little extra on the guy's side...!]

[kesi]

[All Takame can assume of this man is one of two things. He is heavily intoxicated or heavily unhinged. Or Both. Perhaps he said something to offend, he never did have a way with words. Either way all Takame could do was blink at Lucas a few times. The mention of a bet is where Lucas got the closest thing to a reaction out of him, a crossing of his arms.

He would never refuse a challenge no matter what, but...]

What sort of bet?

rollerblades into #3 fifteen minutes late with starbucks

[sinistral]

[They hadn't really talked that much all day; there were fields to plow, the occasional rock to move, and landen farmers with instructions aplenty. But work is work and there's no sense in complaining about it; fortunate then to have been partnered with someone quiet.

And with a sense of dedication to the job that seems to rival Bucky's own; it's late in the day and they've been going hard the entire time. The field is nearly done and a short break will do them both good.]

Hey. [Yeah, great conversationalist right here.] Hold up a moment.

orders a coffee, they spell his name tacomayme. but no it's okk

[kesi]

[There was a focus, a state of meditation Takame entered when he worked. Always most at ease when occupied and being given direction. Never did he stop until all was done.

Of course even he in his concentration had his attention drawn to his partner for the day who finally broke the relative silence. It was only then he became somewhat aware of his labored breathing and the sweat on his brow.]

Is aught amiss?

two coffees for Taco-man and Chucky, it's fine it's fine

[sinistral]

[Overworking oneself is fine, to a point. Beyond that point things get tricky because you need to slow down before you fall down and I have to carry you back isn't something one says to another man. So Bucky just shakes his head instead and fabricates a convenient lie.]

Thought I heard something moving around, but it's hard to tell with us moving around. Just want to make sure we're not gonna get a nasty surprise.

[kesi]

Hmm. I see. Indeed it would be wise to stay cautious.

[Trusting his own eyes most, Takame took his own look around and saw nothing but other workers, some about to call it in for the day.

It was then that he noticed how late it had gotten.]

... When did it get so late? [What was that about awareness?]

( prompt ii.)

[thricefold]

[ at least he isn't alone.

zita stays close by his side, unable to handle the festivities by herself at this time of day. she tried to enjoy what there was to offer but- there was just so much and she had her limits when it came to the exposure of sounds and sights. being from a carnival doesn't have to mean she has to like the mayhem a carnival brings.

not that it'll stop her from trying to have a friendly conversation. her time with takame, she can tell he's a good man and she likes speaking with him. (that, and she feels a little bad for being one of the (many) people who took advantage of his willingness to help out during the preparation.) ]

You know- [ she pauses, looking over to make sure he's aware of what she's going to say. ] This couldn't have been possible without your help.

[kesi]

Hm?

[Takame had no issue with Zita's company even if she had given him much to attend to earlier in the day. He understood that not all had the capacity to deal with so many people at once. He was well used to blending into crowds, though it was harder in Draega due to him being the only Au Ra about.

Zita had been mostly silent until this point, but her comment, while kind, prompted him to tilt his head.]

I did nothing of particular note.

[thricefold]

You helped. That's what counts. [ that's an important thing to someone like zita and, to her, that alone is enough to be noted and complimented on.

but she realises this needs further explanation, and she's happy to provide it: ] With how many were trying to dodge the work needed, your willingness to step in and help. That means a lot to me and the others, since it allows everyone to enjoy the festival without thinking about the work that had to be put into it.

[ which is an important thing when it comes to an event. a successful one is one that is effortlessly enjoyed, without the participants wondering what had to be done to have this happen. getting enough people to do it had been a challenge and believe her on this - zita met a lot of folks who were trying to avoid getting drafted into the preparations of the festival. she had been lucky to rope in the amount of people she had during the height of the planning.

the amount of polite arm twisting she had to do at times made her think the others back in the carnival are a cooperative bunch. ]

[kesi]

I... merely followed your guidance.

[He didn't even have mind for the festivities when he helped, just that it was something he was told to do and it would get done. Takame shook his head, though not at Zita but at himself. It was odd being praised for something as simple as doing what was asked of him, but the fact that Zita was bothering at all was something that he must appreciate.]

But you are most kind, Zita. Thank you.