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'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.

There is an extended silence. It stretches, it aches, it echoes. Siebren breathes deep, bobbing a little in mid-air, as if he's holding himself with less strict control.

When he finally speaks, it's quiet, but no less sincere for it. "Before I arrived on Marrow Island, I had lost all hope. I was playing a fool to avoid being seen for myself, whiling away my time while others used me for their purpose. But now? Now I do have hope for tomorrow. And tomorrow's tomorrow, and the tomorrow after that."

The door appears. Siebren takes one last look around the ship and this dreamscape before approaching it.

George opens the door as they come to it, steps through and-

He's always been thankful that he knows the experience of having joined hands slip apart while falling through the Hedge only through stories. He imagines it would feel something like this.

"GIL-" He starts, before he remembers where he is and who he's with. This place is thoroughly eroding any image he had of being unflappable, but there isn't much he can do about that.

There is no choice in his mind as he takes up the lantern, he has to find his companion before they can continue. They started this together, they'll end it together.

"Siebren? Can you hear me?"

The voice is distant. Oh, so distant, but Siebren still orients himself to it.

"I'm here! Here, George!" Floating higher, trying to be seen by the light of his lantern. Trying to be a lighthouse in a sea of woods. He's enjoyed the hand-holding, the company. He will not go alone, either.

(Besides, he has to make sure George doesn't lose himself here, as much as he needs to not lose himself, either.)

Thank the Wyrd for a companion who can fly. It's not hard to spot the lantern in the sky once he hears Siebren's voice, following it like the north star.

He keeps calling out as he makes his way through the woods, though he'd be hard pressed to recall any of what he says. It's radio chatter, a meaningless call and response just to ensure there's still someone on the other end.

Siebren is used to radio chatter in a very literal sense. He can parse the nonsense from George, until they are reunited.

"Stick close. I don't want you to get lost again. There's a door, I can see it."

George laughs, "Me? From my perspective, you're the one who got lost."

He's feeling better already, a little friendly teasing does wonders for his constitution.

"Shall we, then?" He offers his hand out to Siebren, it didn't help them much, but the contact is nice nonetheless.

Siebren slips his hand into George's, letting their palms slide against one another gently.

"We shall onward, to whatever comes next."

Which is a meadow. A golden-lit meadow that feels a little like what Siebren imagined Heaven must be like when he was a child. It makes him want to frolic, even though his joints would hate him for the attempt.

"I might want to linger in this one a moment, too. Since we don't know what's coming next."

"As long as you'd like, I wouldn't mind taking this in a little longer either."

Although it's been pushing at his memories of Arcadia, nothing has been actively harmful so far, so George is willing to take this little piece of paradise at face value.

"If I didn't think eating here would be a terrible mistake, it would be a nice spot for a picnic."

"Perhaps if we'd thought to bring our own instead of accepting what unknown entities provide in a space that is not space." Siebren slowly lowers himself down first to sit and then to lay down on the grass. There's a bit of a wince when his body has weight again, but he's just lying down, not trying to run or anything.

George makes a note of that wince, he won't ask now but it's something he'll need to follow up on if and when they play together.

"Perhaps," he agrees, sitting beside Siebren after a small internal debate as to whether his vanity can deal with the possibility of grass stains right now, "It's been a long time since I last saw this much grass in one place."

"Likewise."

There's a bit of a pause. He's either going to have to say this in a way that sounds concerning, or not say it. And he's up to talking about it, in this moment.

"I was primarily deployed in urban environments by those who I worked for, before my death. And before that, I was in a closed facility for a while and not allowed outside."

It's strange, to hear something like that and not have another Changeling beside him. Such things aren't the exclusive domain of the Lost of course, he's just not used to it.

"I'm sorry to hear that," George says softly, leaning back on his elbows so he doesn't feel like he's looming over Siebren, "What sort of facility, if I may?"

"A 'treatment facility'." The tone is pure euphemism, and comes out with a sneer. "Created by the corporation I was working for to contain me in the aftermath of a 'traumatic brain injury' I suffered during an experiment aboard a space station."

He glances sidelong at George. Takes a deep breath.

"I was directly exposed to a micro black hole. It still affects my body and my mind. And after evacuating me from the space station, Lucheng's first course of action was to lock me up and pretend I had died. I have no reason to believe they had ever intended to release me."

There's a long moment before George reacts, before he gives up trying to find the correct expression and allows whatever it is his face is doing to filter through the Mask. There are times when he's glad of the emotional disconnect he has, and that he cannot feel anger the way he did when he was younger. This is not one of those times.

"That's..." he lets out a breath, "Awful, truly. I wish I knew what else to say."

"I'm not certain there's anything to be said." He says it quietly, a little wistfully. "There was a writer who once wrote something poignant about her own trauma: 'I hate that it happened, but at this point, wishing it away is a form of suicide, because it changed so much about who I would grow up to be. It was terrible, it was wrong, it helped make me, I like me, I choose to stay.' As we've said, we have hope for a beautiful tomorrow, despite what yesterday looks like, no?"

"That's a good way of thinking about it, I'll have to remember that."

George takes a slow breath, debating what he says next. It's not tit for tat, just because Siebren has shared his misfortunes doesn't mean he has to as well, but much like misery, vulnerability loves company. It's easier when someone else has set the ball rolling.

"When I was a child I spent much of my free time playing in fields of grass that seemed endless. As an adult I was trapped somewhere that was, to use your words, 'a space that is not space'. It was modelled after the sort of country house I grew up in, with a great sprawling estate that I rarely had the privilege of seeing." He leans further back, a frown etched into his face, "It's been years since I escaped, but I haven't been out to the country since."

Siebren's not going to apologize for all of that, but... "I'm sorry you also understand what it is to be trapped, from experience, George. And I'm sorry that you are trapped on this island, now."

It was a choice to come here, but that didn't make it any less a confined space.

The island is large enough it barely registers to him as confinement, other than how he's been cut off from everyone he knew. But he's dealt with that before and likely will again, and he appreciates the sentiment regardless.

"As I am for you," George agrees, "And I hope you're given the space for a more meaningful escape some day, should you desire it."

June Event - Cukey-Scary [The Cucumber Festival]

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CW: discussion of involuntary institutionalization, corporate coverup, TBI, general Sigma backstory

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CW vague suicide mention

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