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pumpkinhollow ([personal profile] pumpkinhollow) wrote in [community profile] ph_logs2025-02-15 09:27 pm

February Event - Garden of Woe [Merrymeet]

**Plain text version here.
GARDEN OF WOE
To Meet is Merry...
It’s a beautiful day. Normally Merrymeet is held a tad later in the month, but thanks to some predictions from Phil, the festival planning committee managed to snag a date right in the middle of a patch of lovely warm days. A false spring --- there would be another snow by the following week. But it’s the first hint of a true spring waiting in the wings. The sun is shining, the grass on the festival green is slowly waking up, snowdrop flowers wobble in the breeze, and the weather is approaching something akin to balmy. It's as if Celestine herself carried in her opposite-most sister on a warm breeze, just for today.

Partygoers trickle in from all sides, gathering at the Festival Green. Each and every soul is dressed in their spring finest. And when Juniper Sweetwater once again ascends the steps to the gazebo, the crowd falls silent. The procession is about to begin.

Dress to Impress Generally speaking, the dress code for Merrymeet is garden party formalwear. Appropriate outfits can fall anywhere in the Classic or Lavish categories. Characters here less than 2 months are able to get free rentals if they’d like, but can buy their outfit if they wish. Everyone else is asked to please purchase their outfit (from 300-500B, depending upon complexity).

Short on Brass? Drop by Gourd en Glace before the event and grab yourself a sundae and bring it up to Venka Meridell, the proprietor who also happens to be the local tailor’s daughter. She’ll slip you a coupon for a half-price Merrymeet outfit if you’re willing to taste test one of her unorthodox new ice cream flavors. Her mother, Saraya, will begrudgingly accept these coupons. [Mod Note: Please only take this option if you have 500B or less in your ledger, we are trying to get some of these rich-ass characters to spend their damn money!]

Once you’re all dressed to the nines, please feel free to use the code below to show off your drip in the Fashion Show thread!

Crowning of the Flower Queen Once Mayor Poe gives the signal, a band begins to play, signalling the entrance of the Floral Court. A hush falls over the crowd as they watch the nominees enter, one at a time and escorted by their chosen companion. Many beloved community figured were nominated this time, and competition was stiff--- the crowd is eager to see who is named their Flower Queen.

Then, the procession begins in earnest as each member of the Floral Court (Valdis, Ylva, Margaret, Lyubov, CT, Alice, Fever, Magne, Olivia, Anya, and Helena) is escorted through the festival green and up to the gazebo. Standing at the top of the short flight of gazebo stairs is Juniper Sweetwater, a poised and delicate Wood Elf with pale brown hair. Gracing each pair with a greeting of “hail and merry meet”, she places a small ring of flowers upon the brow of each member of the court, and hands each one a matching boutonniere or corsage to bestow upon her plus-one. Juniper lets each pair file into the gazebo to take their seats.

Then some of the other leading ladies arrive and do much the same--- first, Drelasa, who won third place, and then Elsie and Sally, who tied for second. Behind them is Sally’s toddler Gwen, who is “escorted” (carried) by her older brother Yellow, both of whom are invited to join as special guests. Juniper takes a moment to bestow each of the women with a slightly larger crown, and a bouquet decorated with a ribbon indicating their place and a brass or silver charm as a token of their achievement.

Finally, the last to enter is the Flower Queen herself. The music swells as this year’s Queen, Dahlia Leeds, is escorted by her Courtier, Radar O’Reilly. A murmur sweeps over the onlooking crowd of surprise and excitement as Dahlia proceeds through the parted crowd. Once one of the most beloved people in town, Dahlia has barely been seen outside her home since her fall from grace at her birthday gala. And when she has, she’s looked sallow and miserable, a husk of herself. And yet here, today, she looks utterly radiant--- aside from the fact that she is very obviously weeping, utterly overcome with emotion at the fact that so many of her neighbors and friends still accept her. Tears of surprise, joy, relief, and gratitude pour down her face in thick streams that she cannot contain as she makes her way down the aisle with Radar, both of them dressed ornately in delicate blue.

The pair are showered with flower petals as they follow the winding trail, applauded quietly by festival goers before they reach Juniper. Fluidly, she swaps places with Dahlia so that the new Flower Queen is the one stood at the top of the stairs and the prior is on the ground.

“Hail and merry meet.” Juniper curtsies. “Today, just as I was two years ago, you have been chosen by the people of our town to be the Flower Queen. It is my honor to present you with gifts befitting a queen.”

Another townsperson passes her a basket, which Juniper presents to Dahlia. It contains a number of spring-themed treats--- honey harvested from last spring’s flowers, a bottle of specially crafted sweet festival wine to be consumed on the summer solstice, a candle embedded with dried flowers, a blend of lavender and bergamot tea, a charming floral soap, and a necklace with a pressed forget-me-not inside a clear pendant. There is also a medal hanging around the wine bottle shaped like an orchid bloom, engraved on the back with text. “Flower Queen 16:55 - Pumpkin Hollow - Dahlia Anastasia Leeds”. Juniper then passes the somewhat heavy basket off to Radar to carry--- after all, it’s the Courtier’s job to attend to the Queen!

Then, Juniper pins a boutonniere to Radar’s lapel, and beneath it, a medal of his own. “Floral Courtier - 16:55 - Radar O’Reilly”.

“With this sprig of Serannai’s glory, I bestow upon you the honored duty of Courtier to the Flower Queen. Assist her as she needs and ensure that she spends this day as free and joyful as a spring breeze.”

Lastly, Juniper turns back to Dahlia and takes up a crown of flowers, larger and more elaborate than the others, holding it aloft for a moment before resting it upon Dahlia’ss head.

“With this crown, I pass my title on to you. May it bring you felicity and fortune, so that you may share it with the earth as you put seed to soil.”

Before letting them go, Juniper leans in, beaming and grasping Dahlia’s hand tightly with the warmth of someone who has known her their whole life, and whispers, “Congratulations!” Then, she takes a step back, hurrying delightedly off into the crowd, leaving Dahlia to stand and look over the crowd of her friends, her neighbors, her loved ones, so many of whom have still chosen to embrace her. For a moment, all she can do is stand in awe.

Applause rings out over the crowd, music swells once more, and Merrymeet officially begins. Congratulations to Dahlia, and all the members of the Floral Court!

Eat, Drink, Be Merry! It doesn’t take long for lunch to be brought out, courtesy of some helpful volunteers and the Oak & Iron’s diligent cooking staff. Salads full of spring greens, fresh bread with herbs baked in, puff pastries with fresh cheese and asparagus, egg tarts, chicken sandwiches, and crispy little hashbrowns formed into cups to look like bird nests, each with a devilled egg sitting inside. There are also dozens of little desserts made with flowers and spring berries, like cakes and custards, and even heart-shaped macarons.

And while there is wine being passed around the table, there is also tea. But this isn’t just any tea, and these aren’t just any tea pots. The pots are clear glass, surrounded by ornate silver fixtures, so that you can see the color of the tea and the leaves steeping within. Some are regular tea leaves rolling around in ball strainers while others are blooming floral teas perched in the center of the pots. And best of all, these teapots are enchanted courtesy of Dr. West, looking like chubby little tea puppies walking around on four short metal legs. They meander around between dishes on the tables, bumbling up to partygoers to offer their contents and tipping forward with surprising grace to pour tea into cups. They are helpfully labeled with tags tied to their handles, explaining what they contain.

While a few contain typical tea blends, others are marked as containing enchanted teas, provided by Aeryn Sallek. The enchanted blends are as follows:

Party Enhancer - An energizing and sweet lemon hibiscus tea that makes the drinker able to dance longer, sing louder, eat more, and worry less. Turn down your inhibition and turn up the fun! This is a great tea for people who want a little party boost without getting drunk.

Liquid Courage - Feeling too shy to dance? Nervous about asking that beautiful person to spend the day with you? Want to go for that first kiss but struggling to work up the nerve? This smooth lavender black tea will help!

Romance Reagent - For those looking to be a little more flirty or emotionally open, this rose milk tea has a higher concentration of the “emotional acuity” potion to help you be open with your true feelings and get your cuddle on. And this denser dose of potion will even have the added effect of making you a little more suave, as well.

Sultry Spice - For those looking to find someone nice and invite them somewhere more private. This warming apple spice tea literally just has a mild aphrodisiac in it.

Enjoy any of these with your meal to turn up the mood! While these teas are clearly labeled, it's up to you whether or not you actually read them. Accidents can happen!

Eating isn’t all there is to do, of course. The other primary activity is dancing!

Local musicians will be playing throughout the day for group and couple’s dances, including a local partner dance called the Sunrise Waltz and a classic maypole dance. Feel free to dance the afternoon away with partners, friends, new acquaintances, and more!

There’s also areas to catch your breath and chat with friends, a chocolate dipping station, flower sprouts in tiny pots as party favors, flower garland braiding areas, and plenty of wine! Additionally, there are a few flower-filled tents on the festival green with private seating areas for couples to catch a few moments alone. You’re not supposed to, but if you’re quiet and don’t mind a bit of risk, it wouldn’t be hard to sneak a little naughty fun into your day in these little tents.

And of course, there is the planting ceremony later in the day, so feel free to join Dahlia and Juniper at the edge of the green for this short tradition! With an apron thrown over her dress and a short spade, Dahlia takes a moment out of the festivities to plant a tulip bulb in a half-empty row near the gazebo, right next to the one Mary Dahl planted the year prior, and Juniper herself the year before that.

...But Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow
Ballad of the Damned Would any event on a cursed island truly be complete without some sort of unscrupulous paranormal activity? Truly, nothing is sacred (except maybe the Dance of Celestine, once), as yet another of Dahlia’s infernal relatives arrives bearing “gifts” to put a damper on her special day.

As night begins to fall, the afternoon band is finally given time to rest and retire to the party themselves, intended to be replaced by a Council-approved evening band. However, said musical group is waylaid on their way to the stage, and replaced with an act far stranger.

On the left part of the stage, a man with pipes embedded in his chest begins to sing a low note, accompanied by a deep, rich harmony as though his chest were a pipe organ. Perhaps it is. On the right side, an older man who almost looks human, save for the exposed “ribcage” full of harpstrings. And at the front, a pale woman dressed all in white with a veil covering all but her mouth, who sings like an angel over the music of her companions. The man in charge and his large sitar are conspicuously absent.

When Sonata begins to sing, two things begin to happen. The first is that black, thorny vines emerge from the slumbering ground, encasing the performers in thick foliage with gaps only big enough for the sound of their music to escape, and thorns big enough to ward off any interruptions. The second is that anyone who can hear the music will find that the sound floods their mind with memories of grief, pain, loss, and loneliness. So intense are these memories and emotions that even the most strong-willed can barely keep from weeping, with only a few exceptions.

Those with protection from demons will find their suffering great, but not debilitating, and Father Mulcahy’s boon from Mortanne and personal experience combined are enough to offset the more soul-crushing effects of the somber music. However, these things alone will not be enough. With the infernal band protected, the Domain of Sorrow’s Song will continue leeching anguish from the party-goers for their master for as long as they can. The only way to combat them is to cut off their source of power through self-imposed joy--- a challenging task, given the situation.

Luckily, a friend from outside the barrier interested in helping his daughter has sent some friends to help you get started.



March of the Bizzyboys Five Drainfolk in red uniforms find themselves in a forest. Little teal-furred monkey-folk with long hair and longer tails stand amid pink trees and a gaggle of little fuschia butterflies. Their names are Vibiano, Grujaja, Bananathaniel, Alexei, and Patty--- mysteries, until recently, revealed a few letters at a time. The wind sings like bamboo wind chimes through the pastel branches.

The butterflies swarm together, forming the shape of a person, and from the flock emerges a strange man. With chitinous hands and a face covered in dark pink wings, he steps free of the fluttering mass and onto a stump, wearing long fur robes, and he smiles a toothy smile.

“Hello there, Bizzyboys! I am King Olwylder, Archfae of the Court of Red Butterflies,” he says with a sweeping bow. Then, he leaps down from his makeshift stage, his own enormous wings splayed out behind him. He lands crouching, diminishing his impressive height to get onto their level. “I have a very important favor to ask you.”

“You see, some old friends of yours, as well as my beloved daughter Elsie, have been caught up in a bit of trouble. I need you to go to a little town called Pumpkin Hollow for the evening and help them out. Afterwards, you can stay there a while, or not, if you prefer. But during the flower festival they have going on, I need you five little darlings to do me a very, very important favor, and do what you do best. I need you to solve a mystery. Can you help me?”

Once all five Bizzyboys have agreed, Olwylder shakes each of their fuzzy hands and thanks them profusely, covering their red uniforms in pink flowers before sending them on their very merry way. They ride to Pumpkin Hollow on the back of a black horse, driven by a man with no head, and fan out in search of their old bosses as well as Olwylder’s daughter.

The five original Bizzyboys, played as guest NPCs, arrive at Merrymeet just before the band begins to play, and are immune to all of its effects due to the blessing of King Olwylder and sheer adorable whimsy. Threading with one of them can help you acquire the self-made fun you need to break the spell yourself, which you can then spread to others! These delightful shenanigans have been graciously provided by five helpful players, so please thank Liz, Sid, Mira, Maniette, and Kai for their assistance in making the magic happen! Once the event ends, it will be up to each player whether their Bizzyboy remains in PH or heads back home.
| CONTENT WARNINGS: altered states of consciousness, mildly dubious consent, grief, depression, mood control |
famedthanatologist: (huh)

[personal profile] famedthanatologist 2025-02-21 10:30 pm (UTC)(link)
"Me!"

Dankovsky replies smugly, a proud hand on his chest for the drama. It takes him a second to clock himself, and his smile is wild as he corrects himself:

"I-- I mean, he has brought me here! Is what I mean! Yes?"

He nods hurriedly mid-panic, urging Fever to nod as well so they can both move on to another subject and forget about this forever.

"He has accompanied me here. He is not doing me, a preposterous notion that I do not, have not, will not entertain in the foreseeable future."
abhorrently: (aside.)

[personal profile] abhorrently 2025-02-21 10:38 pm (UTC)(link)
There is a curve to her own expression that should make his heart sink in its sharp knowing, the scent of blood on the wind to a predator who has caught it.

"Preposterous? He's a handsome, intelligent, kind and capable man. No one would blink twice if you admired him in any way. Believe me, your tastes could be far worse."

And given how she's heard Artemy speak of him, not so hopeless that it should be discarded.
famedthanatologist: (dramatic)

[personal profile] famedthanatologist 2025-02-21 10:50 pm (UTC)(link)
They have kissed already.

Many, many times, in fact. He can't remember the exact count. They even slept in the same bed.

But Daniil Dankovsky is not some harlot! He is not so easy that he will admit to being charmed to the first people who ask! He coughs into his fist, tries to collect himself.

"I suppose it's not unreasonable to consider so, I concede. However, I assure you that I..."

Quite conveniently, Daniil makes out Artemy's figure in the distance over Fever's shoulder. He's smiling at someone, and the sight is so striking that the Bachelor falls silent, and loses his train of thought.

Ooh. He is handsome, isn't he? Very handsome indeed. Oooh...
abhorrently: (yet.)

[personal profile] abhorrently 2025-02-21 11:13 pm (UTC)(link)
Turning to see what made Daniil so speechless, she spots the exact figure, and turns back to the man, saying absolutely nothing. Fever just smiles, waiting for him to come back to her from wherever his mind has taken him.

So, they had at least conceded to arrive together. That's progress.
famedthanatologist: (huh)

[personal profile] famedthanatologist 2025-02-22 09:18 pm (UTC)(link)
There may as well be little hearts floating all around Dankovsky's head as he watches the man. After a few seconds, he catches a glimpse of Fever's smile from the corner of his eye, and that shocks him back into his own body.

"W-Well! As I said..." He tries, but it's pretty obvious he's not going to convince her anyway. He drops his head with a sigh: "...well, yes. I suppose I am quite smitten."
abhorrently: (right.)

[personal profile] abhorrently 2025-02-22 11:03 pm (UTC)(link)
The little chuckle that comes from her isn't meant to mock, even if she can't help how it slips out of her.

"I'm glad for you."

This is utterly sincere, her smile taking on a softer angle, warm enough to be heard in her words.

"You deserve to be happy."

To bask in someone's affection, being cared about, after all that's occurred to him - Fever can't think of it otherwise other than him deserving at least one thing going right. At least he can be happy in the present, if the past has been so cruel.
famedthanatologist: (hehe)

[personal profile] famedthanatologist 2025-03-21 11:54 am (UTC)(link)
"Happy?"

Dankovsky looks stricken for a moment, as though the word was new to him, an unexpected mention. He's never really put much thought into that sort of feeling; it was always an unnecessary concern for a thanatologist of his caliber.

But now... now that he's far, far from the Capital and all its glory, he finds those feelings may have some use after all.

"...I suppose... I am happy."

It feels incredibly weird to put into words, and were he not slightly intoxicated with happy juice, he would most likely not even admit it, and yet— it's true, isn't he?

He's happy. He's happy, so happy! Maybe his ambitions have been put on hold for the time being, but he has love.

He has love!

"Incredible," he mutters to himself, chuckling in something akin to disbelief. "What a feeling so fleeting is capable of doing to a respectable man. Don't you think, Ms. Fever?"
abhorrently: (grace.)

[personal profile] abhorrently 2025-03-22 02:34 am (UTC)(link)
"I've heard quite a bit on the strength and power of such. May it prove to be more than fleeting in your case."

Whatever the reason for his mood, it's not wrong to wish him well, right? Happiness is rare enough to find in the world, and she's selfish enough to want those she favors to find more and more of it. At the least, witnessing it in others is sufficient for her.

"I don't think it incompatible with respectability, at any rate."
famedthanatologist: (dramatic)

[personal profile] famedthanatologist 2025-03-23 01:45 am (UTC)(link)
It is anything but fleeting. Dankovsky's been in love for well over a year by that point, even during the many months he was stuck living through the same day over and over again; months he spent loving a distant, fading memory of Artemy. Clinging to him like a lifeline.

Not that it worked out so well for him. Or did it? This whole debacle brought him here, so maybe it's not all bad.

"Pardon my curiosity, but I can't help but wonder— have you ever felt that way yourself?"

He smiles sheepishly, emboldened by the drink.

"In love, I mean."
abhorrently: (explore.)

[personal profile] abhorrently 2025-03-23 03:39 am (UTC)(link)
Instead of answering immediately, there's a little pause, big enough for Dankovsky's trained eye to spot. She's not looking at him, more at some distant point in her mind, on things that there's no way Daniil could know about. It's an innocent question. She ought to laugh here. Laugh and shake her head and say-

"Yes."

Not that. But it slips out too easily, quiet as it is. Not a point of pain. Merely sensitivity.
famedthanatologist: (huuuuh)

[personal profile] famedthanatologist 2025-03-23 03:49 am (UTC)(link)
The brusque answer catches Dankovsky off-guard, and he's momentarily thrown off, at a loss for words.

It lasts a few seconds, this awkward silence that follows her answer, but it feels like years. Dankovsky scrambles to catch up:

"Sensitive matter, I presume?"

Yes. Yes, obviously, love is a sensitive matter— were he sober enough to hear himself, he would be hiding his face in his hands in shame.
abhorrently: (future.)

[personal profile] abhorrently 2025-03-23 04:10 am (UTC)(link)
"Depends on your definition of the word sensitive. Not like anyone's died or something like that."

Clumsy of her, really, but she pulls herself back as well as she might, trying to recover. It's not a bad thing. Not something to worry over or lament the loss of. But it curls up inside of her, taking up undeniable space, and she wonders what's going to happen if it begins taking up too much room.

"But sometimes it's for the best if such a feeling is kept to oneself. It's...easier, so to speak."
famedthanatologist: (hhehhh)

[personal profile] famedthanatologist 2025-03-24 12:33 pm (UTC)(link)
Ah. So it's that sort of situation, Dankovsky thinks to himself. He's never been good at matters of the heart, always more focused on his objectives and his work than fulfilling relationships, yet he felt a deep, painful empathy for Fever.

"That does not sound pleasant." he says quietly, solemnly. "If I may," he clears his throat into his fist, smoothing out his cape and standing that much straighter:

"Amor gignit amorem. It may be a naive thing of me to say, but I believe you are not a woman that is difficult to love."

The word feels foreign to Dankovsky, and he can't help the embarrassed flushing of his face as a result of using it. Still, he means what he's saying. She can take his misguided advice or ignore it, and it'll be all the same to him!
abhorrently: (watch.)

[personal profile] abhorrently 2025-03-25 12:17 pm (UTC)(link)
A different day, in different circumstances, it would have been all too easy to tease him about it. Deflect away from how his honest statement lodges in her chest, feeling its gentle weight, an ache like that from a bandaged wound. The same reflex twitches under it all, that there was no way he would say that if he knew, but it too would deflect away. Besides. She can't cause a scene at Merrymeet.

He is sincere, and Fever has nothing she can do but accept it.

"Thank you, Dankovsky."

It means more than hopefully he'll have cause to know.

"What was that first part? Amor...?"

Almost sounds like the language of magic, that.
famedthanatologist: (hmmm)

[personal profile] famedthanatologist 2025-03-27 12:50 am (UTC)(link)
Dankovsky smiles.

"Amor gignit amorem. 'Love begets love.'"

He thinks of that day, on the cliffs, when Fever learned about what happened to Sheogorath. The lengths she went to to make sure he was safe.

"And you are a loving woman, Fever."
abhorrently: (peace.)

[personal profile] abhorrently 2025-03-30 11:09 am (UTC)(link)
There was a time where she would have laughed at an assertion like that. And it still feels fraudulent, still feels like putting on someone else's clothes, but...Dankovsky is not someone who she thinks would flatter her unduly. At the very least, if she closes her eyes, pretends he means someone who is capable of love, it just might be bearable to keep on her own shoulders for a little while.

"An assertion put forth by a expert in the subject. How am I to even think of disagreeing?"

If only one of them is pursuing their feelings, if only one of them is truly happy in that respect, Fever is at least content that hers exist at all.