a late autumn wasp

[baedalites.livejournal.com]

Who: Everyone!
What: A harvest festival and talent show.
Where: Howl Barrow
When: Misdi, the first of Maryden.
Notes: Players are encouraged to invent NPCs, talent acts, or have their characters participate in the show. Have questions? Need to plot more? There's an OOC post for that.

The Zygoda squats in Howl Barrow like an extravagant toad, weighted down by enough decorative architecture to make a baroque angel blush. Live colourful birds - of which an alarming number appear to be cockatoos - roost between the columns and pillars of the facade. The light-up sign outside declares THIS NIGHT ONLY AT THE ZYGODA; AUTUMNAL FESTIVITIES; AMATEUR NIGHT; EVERYONE WELCOME; HARVEST PIES!

The street beneath it has turned into a carnival in its own right; there are tents and stalls selling anything from fortunes told, candy, face paint, and odd little handicrafts. There are street performers and vaudeville artists putting on shows that invite bystanders to join in. The crowd appears to be in a good mood, happy perhaps to be able to let lose and blow off some steam in a friendly context for once. Some wear masks, others are dressed in finery, and others still look like they just got out of work. No one seems to mind either way. The theatres doors stand open, inviting those who wish to step inside.

(no subject)

[desert-bloomed.livejournal.com]

Who: Residents of Castle Bad Ideas and their guests
What: An afternoon in.
Where: Castle Bad Ideas, in Brock Marsh
When: Early afternoon.
Notes: Slice of lifeness! The odd roommates get to know each other a little better.
Warnings: None expected.

Ashelia entered the mansion, closing the door gently behind her despite the bags hanging from her hands. Making enough noise to alert anyone to her presence generally ended badly. Well, in her mind, anyway. One never knew who would be visiting, if those Starfleet men (or whatever they are) were any indication, and catching people’s attention in this home usually meant speaking to them at length about various sundry topics that, while interesting, were stressful to think about. This was mostly because she still hadn’t thought Amalia’s opinion about anything and everything through yet, and she was fairly sure she never would. Though, to be fair, Martel had been somewhat antisocial recently, so that hadn’t been a problem.

The Queen stalked into the kitchen, setting the bags on the table and extracting their contents. It was mostly fruit she had gone to market to buy, but there was some salted meat, cheese and bread as well. She put those aside, though, and set about making a fruit salad. What pleased her most about the fruit market - aside from being reminded of going to the bazaar with Penelo and Fran to trade and barter for supplies - was the availability of citrus fruit. Of course, it had been readily available to her as the Queen of Dalmasca, but it was still expensive, so much so that she even felt a little guilty spending money on it for herself. She had eventually settled for having the delicacy out for people who had come to seek guidance from her on audience days. Here in Baedal, though, it was relatively cheap as far as she could reckon.