September Event - Guest Appearances

[pumpkinhollow]

GUEST APPEARANCES

Ignition

September 20th is the Autumnal Equinox. Many places across the world of Concorde celebrate the first day of fall. While various nations and regions have their own cultural practices surrounding it, nature is god everywhere. And so the inception of Mother Autumn’s domain is universally recognized, even if the names change from place to place. But on a little island named Marrow, in a little town called Pumpkin Hollow, there is another reason to celebrate.

The birth of Dahlia Leeds is not so important an event that it supersedes Celestine herself, and neither Dahlia nor anyone in town is foolhardy enough to claim as much. In fact, after the events on this very same day last year, one might argue that perhaps her birth at least started out as a bad thing. But she is certainly the wealthiest person in town. It is through the combination of substantial wealth and a generous heart, two things that are very seldom found in the same place, that we end up with a soiree where the birthday girl would rather spoil everyone else on her day than herself.

The doors to Leeds Estate, which presides proudly over the town upon its throne at the crest of Founder’s Hill, are flung wide open. Large sums of Brass are paid to caterers, florists, and seamstresses to make sure this place is decorated to the nines. Some businesses labor all year, just to prepare for the handsome payoff they’ll get from this event alone. And you, dear neighbor, are invited. Not only are you invited, but you are dressed for the event in whatever your heart desires, completely at the birthday girl’s expense. Dahlia ensures no cost nor conflict stands in between anyone in town and a much-needed break. She is determined for this birthday of hers to be a good night.

Or else.

Incipience

{ The timeframe between ignition and the peak of burning, where a small, contained fire spreads and grows gradually into an established flame. All it takes is a spark. }

The whole town is abuzz as preparations for the gala begin. From the moment people begin to wake up for the day, the air throughout Pumpkin Hollow just feels electric with excitement. After August, people have been needing this lift in morale, and after how last year’s gala went… well, there’s a lot riding on this one. And Dahlia seems much more in control now.

Speaking of being in control, the whole lead-up process has been incredibly organized. You wake up to a delivery--- your outfit, perfectly tailored and completely paid for. Accessories are included. She truly thought of everything.

It’s noteworthy that Dahlia’s invitations this time included another name beneath her own. “Suzanne Marie Dyneax,” it said. Most people don’t know the name, but gossip gets around in a small town like this. It’s not hard to pick up on the fact that this probably refers to Susie, one of the teenagers that Dahlia recently moved into her home, whose own birthday was ruined by Seemingly’s attack. Gift baskets have been delivered to others whose days were in proximity to the disaster--- Zivia, Capochin, even CT. Wine, fruit, and sweets, along with a birthday card. Dahlia has said in the past, “my birthday is your birthday,” but never has that felt more true.

With businesses mostly closed for the celebration, you are left with the majority of the day to prepare in relative peace. For many of the women in Dahlia’s inner circle, there is even a pre-party group dressing room set up on the third floor of her home. Only those who received her special invitation (Susie, Noelle, Fever, Cassandra, Anya, Alice, Patty, Melanie, Basira, Elsie) are permitted to join, but any friends or partners are gladly invited to wait at the bottom of the stairs for the girls to make their grand entrance.

The food is laid out, flowers placed, dresses laced and buttoned. The clock strikes 6pm, and the fun begins.

FLASHOVER

{ The moment when a blaze reaches its maximum size and heat, and the radiant heat in the space is such that all combustible materials ignite at once, allowing the flame to steadily and freely burn for the rest of the night. }

By the time it reaches 6:15, the ballroom is already flooded with eager dancers and hungry dinner guests. After all, the whole town is invited, and everyone’s excited to see Dahlia’s beautiful new ballroom and take a load off.

The music is elegant, played by a rotating cast of musicians who join the party when their act is over. The food is extravagant--- Dahlia and two of her partners are some of the biggest foodies in town, so this is expected. There is talking and laughing and the swirling of ballgowns, and all is well.

But there is a guest you do not recognize in the corner of the ballroom. An older man with white hair, strong features, and a dour expression. You can see Dahlia eyeing him, then flitting over to him, then talking to him. Her expression shifts from anxious, to annoyed, to resigned, before at last she sighs heavily and leaves him to it. Whatever it is that’s going on, clearly it’s something Dahlia is willing to begrudgingly tolerate in order to get back to having fun.

The reason for the disturbance becomes clear in short order, but by the grace of Celestine (and perhaps Eligos), it isn’t a reality bending nightmare or an attack by some monstrous beings. It is simply more guests.

A lot more, in fact.

Those who were on the island in September of the previous year will recall the Visitor’s Center, which appeared briefly just past the beach and served as temporary living and meeting quarters for visitors from the homeworlds of current residents. It would seem that this is a repeat incident. For the night of the gala, one to two “plus ones” have been invited for the vast majority of offworld residents. Most of them are friends or family who are happy to see their guests--- but this is ultimately a working of Eligos, so naturally, this is not always the case.

At the very least, Eligos seems to have been generous with his own granddaughter. As she turns away from him, she very nearly runs into someone much shorter than her. A dark haired human man with dwarfism. He laughs at the accident, grinning up at her as she stares back at him, utterly baffled. Then, petticoats billowing out, Dahlia sinks to the floor and embraces him as tight as she can, head pressed to his chest with little regard for her carefully-styled hair. Even those across the room can hear her shout his name. ”Jonah!”

Within the hour, the ballroom is packed with nearly double the people originally expected, turning the party livelier than it’s ever been. Tearful reunions, laughter, dancing, mischief, romance, sparring, cruelty, and even proper, righteous violence. Truly, this Leeds Gala will be one for the books!

--------
[ OOC reminders: each apped-in player character is entitled to one or two guests from their homeworld. This can be former selves, family, friends, enemies, and they do not have to be from the character’s exact canonpoint. They can be from the past or the future. You may play them yourself, ask another member player to do it, or recruit a non-member player to do so with moderator approval. Non-member players are permitted to join the Discord server while they’re active in this event! Threads you write for your own guests are eligible for AC for the character they’re there with, and threads you write for someone else’s guest can be used on the AC of a character of your choice. Just make sure to mark them as guest threads. After the gala, guests will be allowed to move freely about town, stay the night on Saturday and go home Sunday, or leave right after the gala if preferred. And last but not least, characters played in the gala can be apped directly from this event, rather than going through the normal arrival process. Let a mod know if you have questions, and have fun! ]

Smoldering

{ The decay of a flame as available heat, oxygen, and burning material gradually diminish. Eventually, the flames will recede entirely into glowing embers, glittering like orange starlight amid the ashes of what once was. }

The party rages well into the night. It’s not typical for residents of Pumpkin Hollow to stay out this late, with everything around here that goes bump in the night, but eventually party-goers begin to find their way out. They move in small groups, huddled around lanterns, may they ever stay lit. Perhaps the surprising bit is that their guests can go with them. There are even reservations made for board overnight at the Oak & Iron, all under the name “E. Rex”.

But alas, these reservations are only booked for one night. And by the time the sun begins to set on the darker half of the year for the first time, an unfamiliar black boat is moored at Jack's Marina. One that the guests will recognize as the vessel on which they arrived. They must leave by the time it becomes dark.

Or must they? Perhaps for a select few, they will fail to feel the call which draws them home. It is unclear why. There are many that Mortanne would have allowed residency for, if she could. But for some reason, all but a small few feel the pull. Perhaps Eligos has simply abandoned them here. (Or maybe none at all end up marooned and everyone goes home? That all depends on you, dear reader.)

When the sky goes dark, the aptly named Heavy Heart shoves off, with only her crimson sails hanging suspended seemingly in midair in the moonlight. The black ship is otherwise consumed by the night. And soon, even those flashes of red vanish into the distance.

Moments recede into memories, like a dying fire settles gently into glowing embers at the bottom of a hearth. The festivities are over, and the guests are gone. Life in Pumpkin Hollow resumes as before. But maybe just a little warmer and brighter.

“My birthday is your birthday,” as Dahlia often says.

Happy birthday.

References to the appearance of Leeds Estate can be found here!

Comments

thespius green 🌼 great god grove (godpoke's guest)

[filumamoris]

if you're going to san francisco [all around]

And somewhere in the crowd is one of the most beautiful people you've ever seen.

He towers even among the supernaturally tall at a healthy eight feet, which is itself a big ol' courtesy compared to his usual form; he's not sure he'd even fit in this ballroom if he didn't shrink down! But he's still gotta keep some of that height on him. It's only appropriate for the God of Love and Mirth to be big enough for everyone to see, 'cause everyone's gotta get a bit of joy on a big birthday bash tonight, and he's just the guy.

Besides that, he sweeps in on a warm summer wind, dressed in some gorgeous ballet regalia. His hands float disembodied from empty sleeves, and two more pairs follow close behind, accompanied by two gleaming trumpets. One eye glows like the hot setting sun through a window; the other stays closed. White flowers bloom from the curls of his long hair. A ukulele with flower petal decals is slung across his back. Thespius Green is a pure vision of chillest gender-schmender grooves straight from the divine 1960s. This flower child's all grown up, baby.

He's hard to miss; he flits all about, pulling people onto the dance floor, trying the different foods, and chatting up pretty much anyone who seems amenable to it. "Sick digs, dog!" he'll comment, with a voice like the fields of waving flowers over the California hills. "You look like a real vision."

Or, if the main event's a little too much heat, you can just as well find him wandering outside among the gardens, humming and strumming on his uke as he goes along. The plants and insects and even the stones all seem to bend towards the sweet sound--and maybe, so do you.

be sure to wear some flowers in your hair [by the stage]

What would the God of Love be if he kept all that lovin' to himself? No, man, that's the kind of thing you gotta share. Nobody knows all that love is out there and that it's for them unless you tell them. Every form of expression is glorious in his domain, but there's a real good reason why it's the performing arts that's always got his heart the most. You gotta sing it, man. You gotta move. You gotta play.

So, after some asking around and a bit of permission, Thespius gets onstage for his act. "Hope you're having a good time out there, all you cool cats and dope dogs," he says as he sets up, tuning his beloved Tony. (That's the ukulele.) "I've been chatting up this party all night and I just gotta say--it's pretty dang rare to see so many different stripes'a folks just livin' how they wanna live, bein' how they wanna be, and all doing it their own way, together. This is a good place you got set up here. Don't let go of that. Say hi to my buddy Godpoke out there; I'm here on their ticket. And make sure to wish Dahlia a happy birthday! She's the reason all of us could be here tonight."

Plink, pluck, plonk. "N'yokay, Tony, sounding good. Hey everybody! I'm Thespius Green, the God of Love and Mirth and all that falls under that great big umbrella, and I'm gonna take care of y'all for the next hour."

And when he plays that sweet sound, sings that sweet voice, strums those sweet strings, what can anyone do but lean in? He's captivating. Every lilt, every phrase, every punctuation is crooning and beautiful, floating, with just enough grit and grain to feel the heart in it; the way he plays his uke, it seems less like he's working those strings and more like the music just happens beneath his touch, another voice to join that chorus. His extra hands pick up other instruments. The horns that float at his side hum, they weep, they warble, they rejoice. The sound rolls through the ballroom, seems to fall down from every point in the ceiling. The chandeliers and tables and chairs appear to resonate with sound. All the earth is singing; everyone is in on it. He sings about troubled lovers and longing wishes and clasped hands, the glory of the living world, the everlasting rolling of the universe. Amor fati, amor fati. Everything that was ever worth caring about was always right here. No one is a stranger; everyone's a brother.

What could you do in the face of such passion? There's an old saying in musical theatre: when the emotions get too big to talk, you sing. When they get too big to sing, you dance. What else is there to do?

And if you'd like to join in on that stage, or catch him after the set when he's sat down and re-tuning, still humming away--of course, feel free. Spread the love.

you're going to meet some gentle people there [wildcard]

(( ooc: got something else in mind? hmu! ))

san francisco (post stage.)

[abhorrently]

Garden breaks are more regular for Fever by now, taking in the cool autumn air for a moment to recover from the heat emitted by the general throng of people inside. But she's not solitary most of the time, and as the world is drawn towards this particular guest, so is she, tugged in with the same sensation as a friend's hand leading you somewhere beautiful. Hard to turn away from someone so tall - someone so radiant

"You were incredible."

That might not be the most elegant way to start a conversation with someone who's introduced himself as a whole god (and how many of them are at this party anyway?), but the feeling is sincere, and he really doesn't seem like someone who goes in for formality anyway. Best to start in the middle of it all. That, and she'd been among those moved to dance, swept up in the great wave of emotion that had washed across them all. It had been glorious. It deserves some gratitude.

"Is it always like that, when you decide to sing?"

[filumamoris]

Oh, hey, it's her! The gal with the brilliant white hair and eyes like pomegranate seeds. Yeah, he definitely spotted this one amongst the crowd; she's got an electric energy to her that's hard to miss.

"Aw, shucks, thanks dude! That's what they tell me, but who knows?" Thespius laughs, full and warm. "I want you to know though, when you call me incredible, what you're complimentin' there is love, baby. Straight up, all kinds. 'Cause that's what I am and that's what I do. That music wasn't anything but pointing it out and saying hey, this stuff's pretty cool! So far I haven't found anyone who disagrees."

His expression goes a little distant, a little dreamy. "But you know, even I'd be nothing without my editor. My starlight! The honey of my comb! My sweet ol' lightning rod, capturing my passion and giving it shape and form and sense! Click Clack's the God of Storytelling, and it's him who makes my ideas into something that can really speak to the people. If you see a black cartoon rabbit-looking fella with the white mask, give him a smooch on the cheek for me." He pauses to think about that, then blinks. "Sorry, I'm a rambler at heart. I'm not keeping you, am I? I didn't even get your name."

[abhorrently]

How could they disagree, she thinks, when it feels like that? When it is cool, and it's in the world in abundance? It's in a warm house and the sun encouraging things to live and the moon illuminating the dark. It's in an animal nudging your hand for more pets and a friend coming to see you and bread broken together. It's in both raising the sword and lowering it. It's scattered across the land like starlight, and it was everywhere in that room. It still lingers in the breath of everyone's lungs, on their skin, in their clothes.

"Don't worry, I've got nowhere in particular to be, so here's as good as anywhere else, and I don't mind rambling. I'm Fever." She grins. "And I haven't seen someone like that yet, but the party's not through - he still might show."

Makes sense that the God of Love would be in love, and so freely. She finds herself hoping that Click Clack really does show if there's a way, if only to make Thespius happier than he is now.

"Never thought that a god would need an editor, though, not even a divine one. What's so different about your ideas that he comes to step in?"

[filumamoris]

"Aw, don't worry, he's here. He's pretty small, though; maybe you just missed him underfoot." Wink! Which just looks like blinking when you keep one of your eyes closed.

"You're thinking backwards, cat. Nothin's different! I just get caught up in 'em, that's all! Lost in the euphoria of dreams. Senselessly passionate! All heart, no order! Y'dig? But Clicky's got the taste, see, he's a maestro of drama. Think of it this way: I've got the spool, but Click Clack's got the loom. I've got the metal but he's got the anvil. That's how it's always been. All of my songs, our screenplays, and even our fourteen episodes of HobbyHoo's beloved serial theatrical show OH PARTNER MINE! have all been made that way."

[abhorrently]

"Including all the ones you sang tonight, I'm guessing. They were beautiful."

Which had all come out like that, so there's no denying the power of their collaboration and teamwork. Music that could make the rocks and trees come to listen and the rivers rise so that the waters might be nearer.

"Did collaborating start before or after you two started collaborating, so to speak?" Either way, it's a beautiful story, isn't it?

[filumamoris]

"Oh, me and Clicky go way, way, waaaaaaaay back, man. Even back to when we were human!" He does a dazzling little arpeggio on Tony for emphasis. "We did dang near everything together. I mean--in terms of our work, of course."

He pauses, remembering himself. "And everything else too. Even becoming gods! Yeah, seriously, C-dog's been my main man for way longer than he ever wasn't. I didn't become a musician for godhood, but without his skill, my songs would'a never hit like they do now, and who knows if I'd ever been picked to ascend? And then, listen to this: he never, ever wants to lose me, and I never wanna lose him. So he decides to follow me up. Now where I'm from, only one human can ascend at a time, once every 33 years. And they gotta be voted in. You wanna know what he does?"

[abhorrently]

"What does he do?"

It's a different system than what she knows - different from being born into it, or mantled, or given away, but who's to say how other gods work in their own worlds? Some are born gods, some become gods, and some have divinity thrust into their hands to contemplate for a while. So sure, vote for your next god - that's not the important part of this conversation.

Thirty three years is a long time to be apart, after all.

[filumamoris]

"Baby," he says, the warmth of it radiating with all the same tender fondness as an elderly woman calling you by the same name, with all the adoration of lover, all the softness of a parent, "he moves the whole world for me.

"He wrote like hell, dude. I kept passing along my ideas whenever he could visit, and he put out story after story, and made each and every one into a sword that could pierce any soul. I mean, stuff that really felt bigger than the entire sky. And he did everything: books, poetry, theatre, scripts. One of the most star-studded authors of his time and one of the kindest people anyone'd know. 'Cause he's not just a good writer, nah. He's a top notch collaborator. Everyone he works with feels like they're made better with him. Projects are always smoother as long as he's around, and Godhood's a project of his too. He's not just the God of Storytelling--he's also the God of Teamwork. Neither of us could ever do it alone. So after 33 years of turning the whole planet upside down word by word, he gets picked to ascend and join me at my side, so we can keep shakin' things up together for eternity."

He pauses.

"In hindsight, it should'a taken a lot faster than a few months ago to admit that we loved each other."

San Fran (like 2 seconds after he walks in lol)

[elvaquerito]

Even with how short Pokey is, Thespius is impossible to miss, even at a reduced height. He's still massive, for one, and colorful. Not to mention the fact that he almost glows like a lit stage everywhere he goes. When guests started to show up, they were extremely worried that their dad or one of their brothers was going to show up, so it's a massive relief to see Thespius Green instead.

Ducking through the crowd, Pokey scrambles up to him excitedly, practically skidding to a stop. They left Megapon at their table (oops) but they know they won't need her with him.

Yanking down their bandana so that he can see their expression, they wave excitedly with both hands and grin broadly. "Hey, welcome! Oh man, you look great--- are you here for the party?"

[filumamoris]

"GODPOKE! What's up, cool cat?!" Thespius gets down on one knee and scoops Pokey up in a big ol' hug, taking his sweet time before setting them down. As he speaks, his hands sign. "Yeah, dude, I'm here in town for you, clown! I'll be honest, I'm not totally sure what's going on with this interdimensional birthday bash, but if everything's groovy then I'm not gonna worry. How've things been, man?"

[elvaquerito]

They hug back tightly and with great enthusiasm--- how often are they gonna get to hug a guy who's usually so big??? (Okay he's still high-key really big, but manageably so.)

"Good! Well--- kinda freaky sometimes. It can get scary around here from time to time. But it's a nice place to live for a while," Godpoke prattles happily. "This party's for Dahlia, one of Patty's friends around her. And I'm actually super stoked you're here because!!! Dahlia gave me permission to propose to Patty at the end of the night!"

[filumamoris]

Thespius gapes, eye wide, silent for just a moment, and it's like the whole planet has leaned in to hear this piece of wonderful news.

"Ohhh, Pokes," he says, and crouches down to really get on eye level with them as he beams, joyous and bright. "I thought I heard somethin' going on with you, but a crowd this big's got a lotta noise--oh man, oh man, oh man, oh, aren't you two just the most adorable little love story! Our little hero and one of the people who's been there with them all along the way. Oh, Pokes! That's amazing!"

Thespius' horns always mimic his voice, but here they seem to twitter and sing in their own right even as he keeps signing. Two of his other hands grasp Godpoke's shoulders at the same time for emphasis, the way one gently shakes a friend. "When do you think you're gonna pop the big Q? You gotta let me know, man!"

[elvaquerito]

Godpoke gives him a big, toothy grin, their jagged little bat-teeth forming a spiny, lop-sided smile that is utterly filled with joy. 'It'll be later tonight. There's always this point at events where Patty gets just a little bit sleepy and starts to wind down but isn't quite ready to go home just yet--- I'll take her out to the garden then. I'll flag you down, I promise!'

[filumamoris]

"Tonight!" he squeaks. "You better! Dang!"

He leans in conspiratorially. Stage-whispered: "Now, I don't believe in rings, necessarily. They're wicked expensive, and I think any token's just as good as any other one. As long as it means something to the both of you. Buuuuut." He holds up a finger. "Didja get one?"

[elvaquerito]

'I found one,' they sign back excitedly, nose scrunching gleefully. 'There was a shipwreck that people were diving in back in the summer, and I went with a friend. I got chased by this ENORMOUS underwater spider thing and got my butt kicked a little---'

(That's a funny way of saying 'died', Godpoke.)

'---but when I came ashore, I found it in my hand. And I knew exactly what it ought to be for.'

be sure to wear

[tehilim127_1]

Zivia hasn't got flowers in her hair, but she does have a couple nodding and swaying on her hat. Which she's holding onto so it won't fall off, as she tips back her head to call up to the big guy between songs.

"Hey! Just wanted to say, I love your sound -- d'you take requests?"

[filumamoris]

"Sure can, miss ma'am!" Did he slightly twist grammar to make that rhyme work? Obviously. It's more fun that way. His fingers dance across his uke strings as he re-tunes. "What did'ja have in mind? By the way, I just gotta say: I am totally digging your style."

[tehilim127_1]

She laughs, and preens a little. "The style's thanks to the birthday girl -- I think she outfitted all of us for this one. I'm digging it too, though, feels very me."

Right; requests. "So, full disclosure, what I've got in mind is indecision, cause I saw you and got hit by three song ideas at once. You feeling more like smooth, bouncy, or rocking energy right now?"

[filumamoris]

"Oooh, you even got some musical mystery boxes, huh?" He laughs. "Well, sure! What's behind door number rock??"

[tehilim127_1]

"That'd be 'Can You Picture That,' as performed by Dr. Teeth and the Electric Mayhem."

A hopeful grin accompanies the request.

[filumamoris]

And a very, very gleeful grin blooms on Thespius' face. Behind him, his extra floating hands are already getting to work in anticipation. One pair dances experimentally on the piano; the other seems to be stealing a number of objects from around the ballroom to cobble together a percussion kit just a little more extensive than the one big drum and the snare. (Ah, the Victorian age.) It's only a few objects, surely no one will mind for the next few minutes.

"Heyyy, lady," he croons, "now you got taste. Bet it's been a dog's age since you heard something like that, huh? I got you."

[tehilim127_1]

"Back at you, man," she tells him with an approving grin. "You know they say you're never too old to rock and roll."

A beat.

"Least that's what my dad always says, and he isn't yet, so ..."

[filumamoris]

"I'll do you one better." A wide, wide grin. "I'm never gonna be too old to rock and roll."

And just for Zivia, with a one, two, three, four, the one-man-band strikes up the music. It is, perhaps now more than she's ever heard it, a downright bop. The beat grooves and Thespius croons, self-harmonizing like he's got two more voices to match with the two extra pairs of hands. It's definitely one heck of a cover with the Victorian instruments he's handling. Even still, it feels like home.

be sure to wear some flowers in your hair

[anagn0risis]

After having mingled well enough and gotten himself into well enough trouble, our God of Storytelling can hardly think of a better way to end the night than to take a prime seat for his most beloved's performance. By the time the ever-dazzling God of Love has finished with his most recent set, CLICK CLACK has perched himself on the back of the nearest chair, arched over the back of it.

CLICK CLACK
(completely and utterly love-struck, legs kicking behind him and holding his chin in his hands)
I didn't know you were planning to play tonight, sunshine o' mine! Imagine my surprise when you start stirring the ol' heartstrings across from the room! What got the inspiration flowing this time?