ph_logs | [Cukefest] June Event

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 |

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Yup. There it is.

Gaeta sighs, almost soundless. But he's sincere when he says, "I will be. I promise."

A pause; his mouth twists a little, mostly in embarrassment, as he rubs his hair. "You're not the first person to say that to me. I know he has a lot of people here who care about him."

"Ah," she says in understanding. "Sorry, didn't mean to be part of a pile-on. It's just, I know he's been through a lot, and ... I worry."

A pause.

"Think this might be my first real stab at cliched yenta behavior. How'm I doing?"

(The word may or may not make it through the translation effect, but there's a definite self-directed wry amusement to how she says it.)

Enough of the gist comes through for Gaeta to snort in faint amusement.

"Fantastically," he deadpans. "Five stars. I'll pass along a good review to your supervisor."

She chuckles. "I appreciate it. And listen, as long as I'm worrying already ... are you doing okay? With all the," a twirling gesture with one hand as though to encompass the general surroundings, "everything?"

"I'm all right," he says, as automatic as his earlier smile. "The party's great. I, ah..."

And he trails off there. She's asking, he thinks. She actually wants to know.

Far quieter: "I'm still adjusting. To the -- 'everything.' Not even the demon incursions specifically, just..." He shrugs, and his voice turns deeply wry. "Living, in general."

Gods, how frakking melodramatic. Even if it's true.

She doesn't seem to find it melodramatic, to judge by her nod, or her tone -- a touch more gently wry than his. "Yeah, that can take some getting used to. Especially if it's different enough from where you're from. My therapist always used to say, change is stress, even if it's good change."

...Huh. Gaeta blinks, like he never quite thought of it that way before.

"I guess so," he says: a touch uncertain, but not dismissive. Not at all. He huffs before adding, "Doesn't exactly seem fair that being somewhere better should stress you out."

"Right? The worst," she agrees cheerfully. "But when something's new, no routine yet, you gotta pay closer attention to it all the time to figure it out, that's more work for the brain, more work equals stress, QED. At least getting used to better circumstances means less stress eventually."

It's easy to warm up to Zivia's light, joking tone; a little more of Gaeta's customary tension dissolves. He even smiles a bit -- for real this time -- as he says, half in jest, "'Eventually.' Any idea how long?"

There is absolutely no chance the answer is anything other than no idea. But, well. Gaeta would've said there was absolutely no chance he'd end up on a cursed island after he died, too.

She screws up her face in a calculating expression, and makes an uncertain balancing gesture with one hand. "Ehh ... probably about five to six weeks, give or take three business days. Nah, I've got no clue." Rueful, apologetic almost, even in the jest. "Sorry. Too many factors. But it does get better."

"Oh, that's better than I thought," says Gaeta in mock surprise, "I was going to guess six to eight weeks."

And, as the gentle humor breaks, he sighs a little and downs more of his drink.

"Was there, ah." He studies his glass. "Anything you did to help speed it up? I'm beginning to think the traditional method of working so much that I don't have to think about it might not be as effective here."

Especially when you don't have the excuse of the whole human race will die if I fail at my job. Nobody can die here, after all.

"Honestly, that method only goes so far. It's like ... someone once said 'hard work is the novocaine of the soul,' and I think they've got something there. It doesn't fix anything that's wrong, it just makes things stop hurting for a little while. And sometimes that's what you need, but you can't just be numb forever."

A pause, in which there is no awareness of dramatic irony.

"I mean, you can. But it's not the best idea."

Gaeta doesn't do as good a job of stifling the wince this time.

"Yeah," he says, subdued; unsure if Zivia meant to needle him that way, no matter how kindly intentioned. "I'm getting the sense."

The wince registers, and after a moment she echoes it.

"Sorry if that hit a bit close to home," she says quietly. "Didn't mean it to. I was more talking about, ah ... me about a decade ago."

...Well, now he has no frakking idea how much Mulcahy might've told her. And he feels like an ass for making it all about himself. Ugh.

(Stupid frakking emotions being at top volume again. There's nothing to do but live with it, obviously, but sometimes: ugh.)

"Yeah?" He keeps his voice low enough to match hers; an invitation, if she wants it, but privacy as well.

"Yeah." She plucks the flower out of her drink, turns it over in her fingers, examines it idly, finds a crumpled petal and tries to smooth it out with her thumb.

"I tried it once for a while, sort of ... throwing myself into work to distract myself from missing someone." The petal curls back up; she smooths it again. "But, you know, he kept not being there, and eventually I figured out that I was going to have to go through it to get past it."

The only way out is through. That eternal refrain that makes Gaeta's shoulders dip another exhausted inch every time he hears it. But the rest... oh. Something twists beneath his ribs as he watches Zivia fidget with the flower.

"Yeah." It's more sigh than word. "I guess if we could bring someone back by the sheer force of ignoring they were gone, we'd lose a lot fewer people."

"Oh," similarly on a sigh, "isn't that the truth."

She smooths down the petal one last futile time, and regards the flower for another moment. "... Anyway."

"Anyway," Gaeta echoes.

Briefly, he lapses into silence alongside her. Then, still quiet: "If I started counting up the people I've lost, we'd be here all night. But... just know I don't have the intention of losing Mulcahy too if I can help it."

Zivia glances up at him, and smiles, small and gentle. "That's a good thing to know."

For herself to know or for him? Maybe both.

[Cukefest] June Event - Vegging Out!

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