ph_logs | June Event - Cukey-Scary [The Cucumber Festival]

June Event - Cukey-Scary [The Cucumber Festival]

**Plain text version here.

CUKEY-SCARY

Come one, come all!

The long-awaited festival to enjoy vegetables and welcome in the summer months has finally arrived - and this time, completely uninhibited by curses!

Pumpkin Hollow's streets are bright and bustling, adorned with green ribbons, baskets of flowers, and freshly arranged shop stalls to market their goods to the festival-goers as they mill about the streets surrounding the Festival Green. Cheering crowds watch performers perched upon stages, jaunty music played by thoroughly energized bands fills the air, and the smell of freshly-cut cucumbers is carried on the breeze.

Welcome to the Cucumber Festival, a sorely-missed holiday held exclusively on Marrow Isle. It is a festival begun at the town's inception to encourage the newly-established farming community, which was rapidly embraced from then on. Many smaller-scale gardeners dedicate vast amounts of energy in joining farmers to make the festival possible, and this year is more abundant than ever, thanks to the efforts of the new arrivals taking up the farming mantles. The merriment sprawls all over the Festival Green, and even further into the town.

One question yet remains: where to begin?

Cucumber Celebrations Commence!

Copious Cucumber Cuisine

With the cucumber harvest more bountiful this year than it'd ever been, the booths have a wide assortment of offerings - cucumber chips, fried pickles, bowls of salad, breads with chunks of vegetable in them, fritters, among the wide tide of other culinary delights. If you can make it with a cucumber, these people have!

Almost as abundant as the attendees are, the stalls and booths set up with cucumber-centric meals are easily found. much of it is cheap, even free in many cases, and scattered with them are other booths peddling artisan goods.

Challenges of Chance and Cheer

As much as Hollowites enjoy their food, there's rarely an opportunity that they pass up to incorporate games or rides into festivities, and the Cucumber Festival has an extremely wide variety to offer!

The Whirling Wyvern is a ride that stands shortly behind a neat arrangement of picnic tables. Rope fences wind around the ride, giving it a safe distance from any bystanders, and the surrounding area is littered with flour bags, densely stuffed to offer padding.

Watching it even briefly makes it very clear why the padding is needed: the platform, raised about two feet off the ground in the middle, begins to spin its seated riders, rotating faster and faster until they topple, roll, and fall off the sides, into the padding below. People can often be heard nearby making bets with friends to see who can stay on the longest. (It's not a recommended ride for anyone who's been drinking!)

Bumpermobiles is another ride, operating on enchantment instead of electricity and a switch, that may look familiar to some of Pumpkin Hollow's residents from more modern times! Though they lack the distinctive roofed building in favor of a section of paved road closed off with wooden beams, the small carts of the bumpermobiles resemble automobiles of the current time, outfitted with wide-edges to brace the impact they'll inevitably have on one-another! Each one seats two, but are able to be driven on their own, if you'd prefer to focus your conversations on heckling your fellow driver.

Hot Air Balloons are set up not on the Green, but just outside of it, taking a spot just off to the side that's unoccupied by booths or frequent foot-traffic. Each ride carries a maximum of three, not counting the operator, and gives any rider an impressive view of marrow isle for thirty minutes.

The Carousel stands in the center of the Festival Green, chiming cheerful music from the pillar in the center. Horses are joined by the addition of shimmering unicorns, beaked pegasi, and colorfully painted pony-drawn carts (which are crafted to be seats, for those who cannot climb on one of the other mounts).

The Wheel of Chance is a vertical wheel, perched between artisan's booths, offering low-stake prizes for a small payment! 5 Brass allows you to spin the wheel, offering one of ten available prizes:

a cucumber, covered in batter and fried, on a stick.
a goldfish in a decorative bowl.
a pair of pants, with several varieties to choose from.
a deck of playing cards.
a fine leather-bound notebook.
a set of six shot glasses.
a bottle of wine.
a basket of assorted fruits.
a glass-blown animal native to Marrow Isle, palm-sized, in assorted species and colors.
10 Brass. Double your money!

(For any concerned about the wellbeing of the fish: the person operating the wheel assures the health of these goldfish, and that the bowls are simply for festival distribution. They do note, however, that you'll be on the hook, no pun intended, to provide the new home for the fish.)

The Cucumber Festival's Raffle is one of the most coveted opportunities to spend a small sum of brass and win one of the many prizes donated by the community, with all contributions going into community services and upkeep.

Each ticket costs 20 Brass, and each person may purchase up to 5 tickets. There will be three drawings total, granting a small prize, a medium prize, and a grand prize to each winner. One person cannot win more than one prize; if the same person draws a second prize after their first, it will be re-rolled.

To purchase a raffle ticket, please reply to the Pumpkin Hollow mod account comment with RAFFLE TICKETS as the title, also linked here, stating how many tickets your character will be buying. On JUNE 14TH, ticket purchasing will be closed, and the prizes will be rolled!

The prizes are as follows:

1st (small): a telescope, with elegant engravings in the metal, donated by Elias Coldwood.
2nd (medium): a set of two enchanted tea puppies, one glass and one metal, donated by Neil West.
3rd (grand prize): a basket-hilt sword, well-weighted, masterfully crafted, and delightfully ornate, donated by Dahlia Leeds.

Contestants Convene for Competition

Of course, what's a festival without a little bit of friendly competition! Over the week of celebrations, the Cucumber Festival hosts the following activities for any and all participants interested in joining in the fun.

The Cucumber Growing Competition is a celebration of the farmers who made all this possible, as well as a flexing of gardening prowess. Each cucumber is measured in weight, length, and color! The prize for the best cucumber in show is simply a ribbon, but among the Pumpkin Hollow farmers, it's quite a statement to have. Career farmers, hobby gardeners, and onlookers alike gather to see the town's farmers' handiwork!

The Cooking Competition follows directly after the Cucumber Growing Competition. While the larger of the vegetables don't make for very good foods, sacrificing flavor for size, the rest of the entries are cut up and used for a variety of dishes. Chefs of all varieties are encouraged to participate to show their culinary prowess!

The Great Turnip Smash-Off is a cheeky jab at the prior year's failed festival. Wielding any tools they like, including but not limited to one's hands themselves, each contestant is allotted three minutes to destroy as many turnips as they possibly can. The prize for the cucumber festival's first annual turnip slayer is a small trophy for bragging rights!

The Water Walk is a fun sport for all ages! Lined up in rows with metal spoons full of water, the participants must walk carefully to the end of the "racetrack" to a small glass of water, with a line denoted on the side at the middle. The first person to fill their glass to or above that mark wins!

The Variety Show occurs throughout the week, offering the stage to many people of assorted talents. The first day is booked up for magicians (sleight of hand, specifically - mages are politely requested to refrain from participation), and on the following Monday, a "feat of strength" competition will showcase the might of those strongest in Pumpkin Hollow! The other days are yet to be filled, and several festival attendants are waiting with clipboards to accept submissions. Many newcomers have talents they've never seen before, so new submissions of the musical, magical, or other remarkable talent alike are not only welcome, but strongly encouraged!

Carnival Complications

Of course, not all things can go entirely peacefully in Pumpkin Hollow's festivities, and the Cucumber Festival has never been exempt from this. Though the prior years' incident was far more disruptive to the festival's celebrations, several things begin to crop up over the span of the week.

Capricious Crashers

As the festival goes on, it seems that some poltergeists have seen fit to invite themselves to the party. Two games are affected, with varying results.

The Whack-a-Mole Game, during the first night, becomes the first item to start experiencing a mild haunting. Though the specters only make themselves known when the participant is alone, there's a distinct feeling of guilt that comes with each smack, not unlike stepping on a cat's tail without realizing it. Instead of the triumphant jingle that the machine lets out when the game is complete, a stark silence settles in, as though the entire festival has frozen in time. Only then does a whisper, no louder than a breeze, brush past your ear.

Rolling a D3, the spirits haunting the whack-a-mole machine will tell you the following:

a secret that isn't yours to have about someone in town.
a piece of gossip, a shocking recent happening that may or may not be getting around in whispers.
a lie, carefully crafted to impact the way you see one of your fellow townsfolk.

(Mod Note: the information given is always going to be about someone nearby. When tagging into someone's top-level with the Whack-a-Mole Game who's got secrets or gossip, provide a piece of information about your character that the spirits might've said! Additionally, feel free to request a piece of information about an NPC, major or minor. For a lie, anything goes. Have fun with it!)

The Candle-Shooting Game is the next to become haunted, though the haunting is significantly more straightforward. In an act of simple mischief, the flame will occasionally withstand blasts from the water gun that should have surely snuffed it, or the flame will go out just as you line your shot up. These spirits are aiming to ruin this particular game, but not your night.

Cards and Consequences

On the outskirts of the festival, there is a strange building set up. Just a small shack, decorated with celestial trappings and a mysterious air. Above the door, a sign painted black with gold lettering says "HOUSE OF CARDS". Is it a funhouse? A fortune teller? No one's sure who set it up. Perhaps another effort of Captain Tuttle or something.

There is a sign on the double doors that make up the entrance, which reads, "Admission is free, but you must enter in pairs." And true to its word, the doors will not open unless two different people take each door's handle. Otherwise it is definitively locked.

So, choose a companion and go explore! What's the worst that could happen? All you have to do is open the door.

| CONTENT WARNINGS: mild manipulation, unreality, snakes, possible character death. |

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He definitely should have been more cautious about this.

"Assuming you are also seeing a cliff edge, yes. I am." George's voice and mannerisms betray nothing of the creeping dread he feels. So long as there is someone beside him who needs him to be in control, that is what he will be. That's what he does. What he's always done.

He peers over the edge, just in case there's something down there. There isn't.

"I suppose we must pick a door, perhaps... the star?"

“I’m fine with anything but the sword. I…have no desire to choose a weapon, where other options exist.”

For all that Siebren needs a lodestar in this strangeness, he is working hard to seem okay. This is magic or an illusion, but it’s not a failing of his mind. He can get through it. He will get through it.

“Is there any reason you lean toward the star?”

"It seems... the most harmless, given the options. A weapon implies a fight, which I'd rather avoid. A cup implies food and drink, I have my reasons for being suspicious of such things in a place that isn't what it seems. The wand and star equally could imply magic, but the star is passive where the wand suggests a caster."

"The star it is, then." Siebren steps forward to open the door, stepping into the small temple-space behind it.

Religion was a null signal for Siebren when he was younger, but his accident complicated his view of the universe. Expanded it. He thinks he understands something of what the Omnics call the Iris, the force that enlightened them, from his exposure to the black hole. Despite that, though, he still doesn't know what to do in a church.

No, a temple.

"Give of yourself now, and venture toward a better future." Reading the plaque quietly, he looks over his shoulder at George.

He's only getting less comfortable the further in they go, and they've barely even started. George is very glad of his control over the Mask, had he entered with someone who could see through it the worry lines that crack through his stone features would be more than obvious.

Is it safer to play the game and offer something which could later be used against them, or to reject the premise entirely and risk retribution?

He watches Siebren. It doesn't make the choice any simpler.
"It seems we have two options, I chose the last, so which do you prefer?"

"I think that question isn't the correct place to start. Do we have anything that we can offer? That we can afford to offer?"

He reaches into his pockets, feeling what's there and coming out with a couple of brass and a pair of some sort of technological devices, each the size of a ping-pong ball, but in the form of a dodecahedron that's been hollowed out, a circular hole on each face.

"I could leave one of my hyperspheres here, if we decide that's what we're doing." He'd only just gotten them back, washed up on the beach after the Stag Beetle.

"You raise a good point, I hadn't thought of that." He's so used to just having things, that he still hasn't adjusted fully to the idea that he doesn't. It's a strange feeling, having to worry about whether he has the means before he can give something away.

"I have fifty brass, which is... all I have left." As much as he hates to admit that, "Or my jacket, I suppose." It's a nice one, well made, and the only one he has, but still seems inadequate under the circumstances. Especially when Siebren is willing to part with something that looks far more valuable, both in financial and sentimental value.

"I'm afraid I haven't very much, and what little I do, I don't tend to carry with me."

Siebren sets the hypersphere on the offering plate.

"My...close friend works at the forge. Perhaps someday she'll help me construct another. In the meantime, I still have one. It is good enough."

Is it strange that he feels lighter after setting the object down? For all that they're fidget toys, stress balls, his hyperspheres have also been weapons. Letting even just one of them go feels like saying goodbye to that chapter, in part.

"Onward, then?"

"Onward." George nods, "And... thank you."

The door opens to the outside, at once a relief and deeply disconcerting. The fluid movement of time untethered to the laws of physics familiar in how wrong it is.

He feels rooted to the spot. Staring up at the moon because at least that is wholly different. He never saw the night sky in all the time he spent in the House.

He does not want to do this.

"I should-" he clears his throat, "That is, you ought to know that I have had some struggles with perception in the past, and the longer this lasts the more likely they are to re-emerge. If I lose my grip on when and where we are, I may become quite cruel."

Siebren gives George a quiet sidelong look that lasts long enough to perhaps feel awkward.

"I am accustomed to cruelty. And to a mind that does not want to stay in the present. While I'll do my best to get you out of here with all due haste, I don't want you to spend your focus on worrying about me and how I may react to you." There's nothing but warmth and sincerity in his voice. He offers George his hand, palm-up, in an almost casual manner before letting the rest of the situation draw his attention.

"Doors. Are we more dexterous or sinister?"

George doesn't shift, he can see Siebren watching him out of the corner of his eye, but he just keeps staring at the moon, still as a statue.

He nods once when Siebren finishes talking, and finally turns to look at him when he offers his hand. None of George's internal debate reaches the surface in the moment or two it takes for him to decide what to do with it. He smiles a little, and holds Siebren's hand.

"Dextrous, I think."

Siebren leads George to the door on the right, his grip on his hand steady-but-gentle. He knows a thing or two about grounding pressure and the calm that another person's touch can bring, even if he does not often ask for it himself.

Opening the door, he sees the sweets and tea laid out before them, but doesn't rush to sample. His caution isn't merely a concern for poison, though.

"Have you enjoyed your time away with the fairies, Dr. de Kuiper?" Moira's words echo in the back of his head. She meant them mockingly, but he'd taken the time to look into Irish folklore after she threw the barb at him so callously.

"Perhaps we should not partake. It seems...imprudent." He's braced for an argument here, for George to want a rest and snackies.

There's a moment where he thinks he sees figures in dark suits lining the back of the gazebo, unobtrusive and part of the furniture. He wants to criticise the table spread. To find a fault and someone to blame for it.

George blinks, very nearly startled by Siebren's voice as it brings his focus back.

"Very imprudent," he agrees, taking the lead this time to leave the idyllic afternoon tea behind as quickly as he can without seeming rushed.

Siebren follows, comfortable being led. Given that he's floating, rather than walking, there's a moment where he imagines himself as a child's helium balloon being tugged along, with no friction.

"I think there is a door in those rose bushes, but we'd need to find our way to it. Otherwise, those purple flowers on the trellises have one."

There's nothing to be gained by playing Their games, but neither is it a good idea to avoid them entirely. So which is the better choice, the complicated or the simple?

"I believe they're wisteria," George says mildly, as he comes to the decision and leads them through the trellises.

Siebren follows with a bit of a laugh. "You'd know better than I. They are pretty, though."

Another passage through a door, from a sweet-smelling garden to one that smells of rot and overripe fruit. And yet, Siebren almost finds this more comforting than the carefully cultivated space they left, with the offer of food and drink.

"Disorienting, going through so many different...mm. Scenarios? Scenes? Stages for so many little scenes?"

Glimpses of other people's hellscapes. He thinks, but doesn't say. The smell of decay is a welcome relief, it doesn't remind him of anything but reality.

"It is rather disorienting," George agrees, "I can't help but wonder what the purpose of all this is. Whether the choices we're making are meaningful or an illusion, and what they're leading us towards."

They reach the table, and Siebren picks up one of the cards to read for himself.

"Well, that's a loaded question." He reaches for the pen, and gestures for George to take the other card. There need not be discussion here; he checks NO without much hesitation.

Could he come to love George? Possibly. Which is dangerous, considering his profession. But they're not there yet, right?

He's been... thinking about Gilbert on and off throughout this. Both because the fellow's not been far from his mind since he realised he was missing, and because he can't help but wonder if Gilbert would have joined him for this instead of Siebren had he been here. Or perhaps more likely, if he would have talked him out of entering in the first place.

This is the first time the thought is brought to a more active forefront. Would he and Gilbert have produced the same answers? Would he want them to? Does he even know his own answer?

None of these thoughts are terribly productive, and perhaps that's the point.

He checks NO, and tries to leave it at that.

"Well. At least we're both being honest."

Siebren nods a little, seeing that checkmark, and displays his card with a bit of a smile as the door manifests. Again, George is offered a hand on the way to the next little scenario, because even if this isn't love, it's sincere liking.

"At least we are"

It's the first time George has smiled since they entered, and he doesn't have any internal debate before he takes Siebren's hand this time.

He's taken aback by the next room, he could see another version of himself — a far younger one — forgetting everything else in favour of rushing to the rails and peering over the edge, taking the beautiful sights in with abandon. As it is he remains still, lips parted and eyes slowly tracing over the glimmering starlight.

Siebren doesn't hold back his gasp of delight and wonder as he looks up, squeezing George's hand lightly. This is stunning, and he drinks in the sight, even before he notices the star whale. But when the creature comes into view, his eyes light up even more.

"Back home, there is a whale constellation--Cetus--but this is so much more."

And then, the whale asks its question, and Siebren doesn't answer aloud immediately, letting his gaze drift back to his companion.

George's smile widens as Siebren gasps, and returns the light squeeze. He's appreciated other's strong reactions more and more as his own have grown muted.

"Always," George answers the whale with barely any hesitation.

The scent of leather conditioner that hangs around him seems to grow stronger, bringing with it a memory of morning dew as his Mantle swells a little. This is why he chose Spring. For a hope tied to change, that no matter what you are there is always tomorrow to do better, to be better.

"Winter's frost will always give way to the thaw of Spring, and even on the darkest of nights there are sights such as these."

He glances to meet Siebren's gaze, and see what he has to say on the matter.

Well, at least there won't be an argument here.

"Give me a moment to drink this in before I answer. I want to hold onto this present moment for just a little longer."

To cement it in his memory as well as he's able, a well of wonder to draw on when the Bad Days hit.

"Of course, we can stay as long as you'd like"

In all honestly, George wants to drink it all in for while longer too.

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