ph_logs | [Cukefest] June Event

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[Cukefest] June Event - Vegging Out!

VEGGING OUT!

Come on out, the weather's vine!

Happy Summer, Pumpkin Hollow! May the blessings of Kora be ever at your shore and the summer sun bring Serranai’s gifts to life. The days are long and the nights are alive, and the cucumber harvest has arrived. That can only mean one thing--- it’s time for the annual cucumber festival!

2 years ago, in the year 16:53, the festival was cancelled due to all of the cucumbers being turned into turnips by a prankster witch who remains at large. As such, last year the Green King election from the bungled year was honored. But this year, Pumpkin Hollow has opened voting to its newer residents, and with an exciting turn-out! So join us for this beloved summer holiday, and enjoy cucumber-based delicacies, dance at a fancy ball, check out Pumpkin Hollow’s first-ever Pride parade, and honor our new Green King!

This event (ICly) is one week long, running from June 8th to June 14th. It is a brief reprieve from the spooky shenanigans of Pumpkin Hollow and is therefore horror free. Come get a slice of life--- and a few cucumbers too!

Gherkin this party started

Easy Being Green

The first day of the Cucumber Festival is always dedicated to the crowing of the Green King. Last year, this was Theodore “Teddy” Pennyburrow, the foxfolk man in charge of the island’s dormitory house for children without family. This year, it will be his honor to crown the new Green King.

Unlike the airy, floral affair that is Merrymeet, the Green King procession is rustic and raucous, taking place in the cobblestone streets under the fierce glow of the summer sun. Drums beat and cowbells jangle as the sidewalks crowd with cheering neighbors and the members of the Green Court are asked to strut their way to the town square, where each receives a green sash embroidered with vines.

Bringing up the rear are the two runners-up--- Father Mulcahy in third, and Radar O’Reilly in second. Each one is gifted with a pin for their sash (one bronze, one silver) with their names engraved and an enormous jar of artisanal pickles from Miann Farm in their choice of spiciness. Then, it’s time for the man of the hour to make his way forward.

A breeze whips up a fine cloak embroidered painstakingly with cucumber vines, a collar of cucumber leaves adorning his broad shoulders. He is all smiles, and what a winning smile it is. The town’s beloved baker, voted Handsome Offworlder of the Month by the Northwest Hollow Senior Ladies Knitter’s Club for three consecutive months! The man, the myth, the legend, with a name so nice you say it twice--- Max Maximum.

When he reaches Teddy, he has to bend down to receive his leafy golden crown and scepter, but he stands tall to face the crowd as their 16:55 Green King! Congratulations, Max!

From there, it’s time for the commencement party, which is held both inside and outside of the Oak & Iron. Loud and joyful music, dancing, and tons of great food are on the docket for tonight, along with a sacred ritual. It’s time to get the Green King pickled!

The rest of the Green Court is tasked with each buying Max a drink until he’s unable to continue (though Crichton is given permission to present Max with a glass of pickle juice if he chooses). It’s up to Max to earn the right to graduate from Green King to the coveted rank of Pickle King. How much can our fearless leader handle? Can he hold his liquor well enough to beat Archie Brenning’s record? The night is young--- let's find out!

Barrel of Laughs

Once the first day of the festival is out of the way, it’s all fun and games--- literally! There’s a ton of carnival games, tests of strength, cooking contests for pickle-related dishes, and even a contest for biggest cucumber. There’s also some rides, some magically powered and some kinetically powered, as well as “dragon rides” that allow townsfolk to ride on the back of a red, flying leviathan around the island! (It’s just Inspekta in an enormous dragon mask, but he’s hamming it up.)

As with last year, there will be a raffle--- this year hosted by Calloway’s Curios, and with a very interesting selection of items.

Third prize is a Talking Water Companion. An apparatus worn on one's back that carries a substantial tank of water that it can expel for various uses. The nozzle also talks for some reason. Don't worry, it's friendly. Probably.
Second prize is a Bicolor Teleportation Circle Cannon. Using one blue magical ring and one orange one, it can be used to designate the entry points of a makeshift teleportation circle, apparently by clinging to the celestial and otherworldly magic lingering on surfaces around town. Can only be used on flat surfaces with enough area to allow entry to an average-sized person standing upright. Use with caution.
And first prize is a Triangle of True Sight. A teeny tiny triangular arcane construct worn on the ear. The wearer can use it to see monsters through solid surfaces and track their movements, spot otherwise hard to see tracks from animals and people, access a map of the island and receive guidance to specific locations, and translate languages---- including R'lyeah. It also includes a health monitor that can track your heart rate and count your steps. Fancy!
The consolation prize, given to all players who do not win a major prize, is a Chatty Rectangle, which is a little red object with a panel that opens on the front, which can tell them factoids about the island's Pokemon residents. Calloway has a whole box of them. Please get rid of them. (More will be available for purchase after the festival ends as well.)

Tickets this year have a significant price hike, because of course they do. They are each going for a whopping 300 Brass. Despite Calloway’s protests, Town Hall has asked that the purchase be limited to 5 tickets per person still, in the interest of fairness. If you'd like to purchase any, please use the "RAFFLE TICKETS" thread below to do so!

A Dill-ightful Array of Colors

For reasons some of you may be familiar with, Pumpkin Hollowites tend to be a bit dubious about the idea of parades. So when the idea of a Queer Pride parade was pitched to Town Hall, it was met with no small amount of side-eye from the locals. However, after a thorough explanation of the tradition and its significance, the event was approved wholeheartedly!

On the Wednesday of the festival week, the morning schedule features a parade of brightly colored horse-drawn floats, beautiful men wearing very little clothing, muscular women in heavy knight’s armor, androgynous people in fantastical clothing, and people of all genders clad in symbolic color palettes or different flavors of drag. It’s a splendid display that offworlders and locals enjoy, and the parade leads to the Greymare Library lawn, just off of the main area of the Cucumber Festival that is designated for Pride-specific booths and activities.

Gerry Keay will be hosting a repeat of his popular seminar, “Gay Shit 101”, and various speakers will also be asked to share speeches, performances, art, and poetry about their experience with sexuality and gender. Drag shows will be held on a small stage, the lady-knights will be sparring on a section of lawn for entertainment, and booths will be selling special craft pieces, clothing, and street food themed around the event. This festival will run alongside the main event from Wednesday to Friday, but will close on Saturday to allow the folks running it to attend the closing festivities of the Cucumber Festival.

Town Hall would like to extend a huge shout-out to Pinhole Printing and Binding, the Velvet, Ambrosia, and Silk brothel, and the Bizzyboys for helping to sponsor and organize the event! Pumpkin Hollow is excited to incorporate this celebration of identity and expression into their summer traditions going forward!

A Slice of the High Life

On Saturday, it comes time for the closing ceremonies. Many of the food and game booths are still open in the main area of the festival for the morning and early afternoon, but they close up early to prepare for one final event.

You see, Pumpkin Hollow’s last major celebration was for Merrymeet back in February. The normally delightful spring cotillion was interrupted by Efrain himself, preventing people from fully enjoying the party for the second year in a row. To make up for lost dancing time, this year’s closing celebration of the Cucumber Festival will feature an indoor-outdoor fancy dress party in Town Hall and in the plaza.

As before, if you would like a custom outfit for the occasion, you will need to foot the bill. However, if you aren’t able to pay for one, there will be 50B rentals available, with one catch---- everything that is available for this offer is in a shade of green, since the clothes made for this purpose are made of excess fabric from the festival decorations. Seems like Yorick, in a distracted state after his breakup from Mayor Poe, ordered double the amount needed, and Town Hall is very much hoping that the rentals will help make up for some of the lost budget.

As usual, there will be an impressive array of food (much of which will still be cucumber-based), plenty of music, and good times with friends! Perhaps a little interpersonal drama for later gossip as well? Time will tell! Let’s end the Cucumber Festival with a bang!

Speaking of bangs, once the party ends, there will be fireworks lit outside, so grab a seat on the Festival Green for a romantic evening or grab a complimentary potion of Deafen on your way home for a good night’s sleep. Happy Cukefest!

| CONTENT WARNINGS: alcohol use |

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"I think I know exactly what you mean," Pokey replies, and there's a softness to their voice. Not just in volume, but in tone. Empathy. "Tell you what. Why don't you tell me what you'd like to be called? And when I see you, I'll have a howdy for ya. No 'Father' involved."

Hmmm.

Well, he certainly doesn't mind Mulcahy. And "Francis" is... perhaps a little strange for anyone who isn't very familiar with him. Gaeta, for example, or his sister. Those are the only two that would make sense to hear it from. And there's no sense in calling him by either of his middle names.

Honestly, these days he's just glad to be having a name at all.

So: "Just 'Mulcahy' will do me just fine, as long as 'Father' merely keeps office hours instead of working where I live."

"Can do," Pokey agrees. "To be completely honest, I don't really get the 'Father' thing to begin with. When Radar told me there was someone here called 'Father' I was totally confused. It's part of your religion, though, isn't it?"

"It is. It's meant to be both representative and a reminder of my role as a priest: to look after everyone as a father does to his family, mostly in spiritual matters, but otherwise as well. I teach, I provide counsel and sanctuary, and am often responsible for supporting or leading community projects and events. I have a responsibility to the people here."

"Does it ever feel strange?"

Hugging themself a little, they remember what it was like to be called exclusively masculine words. "Little fella." "Bro." "Dude." "Son." Many of these words are now reclaimed, mixed in with the feminine and the neutral to form a shifting tide, or simply used as jokes. But at the time those words, the way in which they were used, made Kelaiah's skin crawl. The idea of being called "Father" at every opportunity makes them itch uncomfortably.

"It surely comes from a place of respect, but... does it ever feel ill-fitting?"

“Well, no, I don’t believe so,” is his immediate answer. “It’s simply my title in the same way as any doctor. In almost 30 years of being a priest I don’t feel like I’ve had any reason to want another.”

… Except he did just mention some kind of unhappiness with it, didn’t he? But it’s not like he had issue with the word ‘Father’ itself. It’s… it’s more like…

“… Well, uh… hm. I’m not sure how to explain this. Even though I’m a man, and the title is for men, sometimes when others say it…”

His brow knits. “In the army, sometimes… sometimes it’s a bit like I’m a different sort of man from them. It sounds silly, of course. I’m quite fond of ‘manly’ things, as it were. I participate in my fair share of ‘manly’ activities. I’ve gambled, smoked, drank with them… but there are certain moments… things like when they make a risqué joke, and then they apologize to me. They always say, ‘sorry, Father.’ Now of course they mean it out of respect. I don't mind. But it’s strange—sometimes when they do, the way they do… there’s that sense of remove. When you hear this sort of thing a lot, the way everyone respects you on a different level than they respect anyone else, even the brass, I feel a bit like a different species sometimes. Like being a ‘Father’ is occasionally incompatible with being ‘one of the guys.’”

"I think I can relate to that. Sometimes it was a little bit the opposite, where there'd been this... expectation, you know? To be like them in ways I'm not. But other times it would feel more like sitting on the outside. Like there was this invisible forcefield around the men in my life that I didn't know how to get through even though I was, in theory, welcome to do so. It always felt so lonely."

Sitting in the grass, they wrap their arms around their knees thoughtfully.

"It's kinda funny, actually. Being how I am, I'm not really even trying to be one of the guys anymore. I'm not limited by exclusivity to manhood, I just exist, and so I don't need that external validation. But I feel more connected to the men around me now than I ever did when I was trying to be one. Even with this whole Green Court business, which is supposed to be a celebration of positive masculinity, I don't feel weird about being included in it. I think that owning being a 'different species,' as you put it, is what broke down that barrier. Being okay with that. Making it yours. It alleviates that awkwardness. Maybe that's worth exploring for you?"

A thoughtful look crosses his face. "Ah, perhaps. Though I think that at this age with some fifty years on this--" not Earth, "--in this universe, if there was something going on, I would have found out by now. I think I just grew up a little lonely is all."

(Way to softball that last part, Mulcahy.)

"I'd like to hear more about you, though. How did you come about 'owning being a different species?' I don't imagine that was very easy."

"You know, two of my favorite people are in their fifties and just now figuring themselves out," Pokey notes pointedly. "Their relationships, their identities, what they want for the rest of their lives. It's okay to keep exploring. Especially since you're just discovering new things right now as we speak! Not trying to assume anything, just don't close yourself off from understanding yourself better. You're so curious about the world. Don't lose that same curiosity when it comes to your own soul."

They smile, bandana-less, showing off jaggedy little sharp teeth with Nosferatu-like buck-fangs in the front. There is genuine joy to be found in it. Welcoming.

"As for me--- it was easier than you'd think. My soul already knew what it was. It was trickier, I think, getting others to see me that way. They'd known me a long time, already painted an image of me in their minds that I was trying to act the part of. But I already was who I was. Nothing about me fundamentally changed from understanding it. I just... dropped the act. It's not like that for everyone. I think a lot of people go through a phase where they feel like they have to 'play up' the new identity to be seen or to be real. But most people grow out of that, too."

Now that's... well, he wouldn't say he's averse to being curious about his own soul, but it certainly feels like something he would've had more energy for when he was young. In his age, with his problems, the prospect of re-checking everything about himself when that hasn't been a significant part of his schedule in decades sounds exhausting, especially when there's every chance that nothing comes of it. And if it does, well... he's not sure what that would even change. He already burns enough energy trying to manage to do the laundry. To embark on a journey of soul searching sounds mostly inconvenient.

But Kelaiah is so very earnest. Maybe the next time he spends too long looking at himself in the mirror, he'll think about it. Or when next he goes shopping.

(Mulcahy glances down again at the note in his hand, at the picture of King, and feels... well. She's very beautiful.)

He nods, listening carefully as they speak. What a curious experience, and how obvious and eminent it all becomes when it's explained. "Do you know what it's like for others? Who 'play it up' as you describe, or whose souls didn't already know?"

"My understanding is that they just kinda... spend a few years trying too hard. Fretting over looking like what someone else's idea of a 'man' or a 'woman' might be that they tear themselves apart in a brand new way. That part's painful too. But a learning experience, so I'm told. Sometimes being you takes a bit of practice. To be oneself, I think, is a skill like any other. Needs to be learned," Godpoke muses. "Some of them fall back to a more middling state. Feminine men, masculine women. Non-binary folks who just stop giving a rip if someone makes an assumption of a binary gender based on their clothes. But some of them just figure out how to be their own person. 'I don't have to be a girl like you, I can be a girl like me.' Y'know? Everyone's journey is different. Some people need to become someone entirely new, some people barely need to leave the backyard to find themselves."

Again he listens closely. Some things he doesn't quite get, some things need a moment to parse clearly, some things make perfect sense. He's quiet for a while, rubbing his chin in thought; and after that while, he looks down at the note in his hand again, rereading. I just felt like I wasn't all in, you know? Like I was dressed up as a man and underneath I was nothing.

How fascinating, the way such different people can have such parallel experiences. It's something he's been finding again and again as he remains among multiversal company. Never will you find someone who is just like you, but always will there be someone who has lived a part of your life almost exactly.

"You know... back home, I had a friend named Klinger. We were drafted into the Army, and... er--you must understand, where I come from is far less accepting of... any of this. He would dress in women's clothing in an attempt to get a discharge on grounds of insanity so he could go home. It never worked; it was very strange, but no one with the power to sign the papers ever saw it as 'insane.' Still, he kept at it for years, and he was very adept at it too. I would wager that he was more enthusiastic and more skilled at women's fashion than most women! He even made some pieces himself. Ah..."

He pauses, reminiscing.

"He was--is, an excellent fellow. So terribly generous in a place where no one had much of anything. And I wish I could introduce the two of you. I wonder now if he would've been happier in a world where he was free to dress as he pleased, even as a civilian."

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[Cukefest] June Event - Vegging Out!

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cw historical transphobia discussion