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

[abhorrently]

The first glare of sunlight hurts, the moment you first step into it after so long in the dark. But it's temporary, just a twinge of muscles adjusting and remembering what they were originally supposed to do. They adjust, and one breathes.

(The first sunrise after breaking free from her fate. The first one of the new year, dawning over the sea. The relief that comes in the morning after every trial weathered, and the light she's seen shining in through the stained glass in the Temple after a long night of insomnia, illuminating the sanctuary in so much color that it seems impossible that everyone doesn't know how beautiful it is.)

King speaks, and Fever feels the truth of it, inescapable in its radiance.

She takes a breath, deep and mildly shaking, and before Fever can try to stuff the question away and say it's unfair to ask this of a stranger, reseal her heart, it comes out anyway. Soft, something she doesn't expect anyone to answer.

"...then what about all the bad things?"

All the choices she made. All the things she did. Everything that happened to her - if she can be good, then what does it mean in perspective? She can't be that woman again, but if she lets her go, isn't that running away?

[divineeloquence]

King, who had been shoulder to shoulder with Fever, gazing off into the distance thoughtfully, turns to face her fully now.

Looks her straight in the eye.

"You are good because you're trying to be. You feel bad for the wrong you've done and you want to be better. You choose kindness, even when it might look different from someone else's. You want to be good."

What King says next feels like an Earthquake. Like it ruptures the ground when she speaks.

"Bad people don't worry about whether or not they're good."

[abhorrently]

It's not as though other people haven't tried to tell her things along these lines. Focusing on the actions, on the now, on what she chooses to do. But again and again, Fever's put these statements away, pushing them down. Boxed up, away from her hands on high shelves or under the earth, things that don't fit or don't look right, things too beautiful to hold in a bloodstained grip while she tells herself remember, remember. Remember what you were, because you always have a shadow. Don't look down. Don't look at yourself in any reflection, because you know what's there. You know what your hands can do.

The authority in King's voice is inescapable. An earthquake cannot be stopped, cannot be isolated and thought of as not for me. The flawed ground under her feet cracks, the shell around her heart is going to pieces, and Fever waits to fall away with it, to shatter like walls built on the wrong foundation, to have some awful and terrifying revelation exposed to everyone here. When they look, they will know who she really is.

But she does not.

Instead, Fever sees her reflection in King's eyes. She's draped in starlight, and her hands only do what she asks them to do.

"I..."

Overwhelmed, tears well up in her eyes, and at some point, she's reached for King's arm, to hold onto something steadier than herself. It's a birthday, it's supposed to be something happy, she can't just cry in the middle of a celebration. It's only that for once, Fever's not hearing counters in her head, no how do you know, are you sure, but this, but that, anything that twists the narrative back into its painful shape.

Just the two of them in the dawnlight, and it doesn't hurt at all.

[divineeloquence]

There is no judgement whatsoever from King, and she pulls Fever into a tight hug. That exposed heart rests right near Fever's cheek, thumping softly, though it no longer bothers to pulse. In fact, it seems upon closer inspection to be made of opaque glass.

A glass heart, exposed to the world. Exposed to Fever. A gesture of extraordinary trust. Even if King can no longer die, surely there is something terrible that would come of that heart being shattered--- which would be a frighteningly simple task. But King knows Fever poses no threat to the delicate structure.

We are safe with each other.

"I'm sorry to have unsteadied you. But it seems like maybe you needed that. You okay?"

[abhorrently]

The heart is warm like the rest of King, beating without movement. Open to the world, and unafraid of that state of being. And when something tries to hook into Fever's mind, speaks of what could happen, what one malicious blow might create, it cannot find purchase for a simple reason. She doesn't want to do that.

What she wants instead is what was given without her even asking, an embrace that affirms that it's all right. Proof enough that choices can be made, again and again, to be kind. There is nothing to apologize for in this moment - not for King unbalancing her, nor for Fever allowing someone else to see something true.

"Yeah." Breathing in deep, it shakes a little, but she's not at risk of falling entirely to pieces. If she gives in later and weeps, it won't be from a place of shame. "I really did need that. Thank you."

The words are meant with all of her own heart.

[divineeloquence]

"You are so welcome, darlin'." Like a Disney Princess, King doesn't let go until Fever does. "I hope it gives you all the peace you need. Godhood would be worthless to me if I couldn't help people, y'know?"

[abhorrently]

She lingers for a moment more before she lets go, the feeling more akin to floating rather than falling in her body.

"If this is at least a start, then you'll have helped me more than I can properly express in words alone."