July Mini Event - Seaside Sway

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It’s the end of July. Summer is peaking, hitting its stride. In the forest, frogs sing and fireflies dance through the night, and dragonflies go about their business in the sun. In town, farmers roll up their sleeves and young ladies swap out their many layers for breezy floral gowns. And on the beach, swimmers take to the sea for water at its warmest and young crabs climb up from the sun-drenched sand. Kora’s glory at its finest!

For about a week now, a flier has been up on the community bulletin board. :

Midsummer Beach Festival!

Join us on July 21st and 22nd for our annual beach bash!

Organized by the Temple of Sacred Roots in tandem with Town Hall, all townsfolk are invited to join in for seaside festivities in honor of the height of summer. Activities will include:

• Live music (Sign-ups for performers will be available at Empty Pockets Music Bar)
• Locally made strawberry wine from last summer’s strawberries
• Beach pit barbecues for lunch on both days
• A hot food banquet for dinner on the 21st
• A fish fry breakfast on the 22nd
• Paper lantern float
• Beach games
• Tents and bed rolls for beach camping

We look forward to seeing you there!

And, as promised, the festival opens up on the afternoon of July 21st, where the smell of barbecue rises up from Tawny Beach. Tables sit on wooden plinths to avoid sinking in the sand, bearing fresh summer fruit and drinks. Pork, fish, and lamb roast in a sand pit. Enchanted barrels covered in magic frost keep frozen treats like orange juice shaved ice and strawberry sorbet cold. A station for assembling little wood-and-paper floating lanterns can be seen off in the distance and Cormac and the Banshees are setting up for their opening set. Tents and bed rolls have been set up toward the Marina. Literally everything is decorated with thin golden coins on strands of twine, sea shells, and sea glass. In the center of it all, stones have been laid into the shape of a massive compass rose, whose center houses the makings of a bonfire.

Those who were here last year will recognize that this festival is much larger than last year’s, and was not preceded with desperate pleas from Town Hall for help providing food and decor. It speaks plainly to the health of the town now. Even with all that has been going on, the growing population and renewed sense of community and purpose have improved matters around the island considerably.

Near the tent area, a family of crabs (one red, one blue, and three purple) can be observed. The small purple ones are poking each other with sticks. The Limoncello has made port, and Royal and his crew are splitting helper duty with the staff of Town Hall, and are dancing and partying the rest of the time. All is as it should be. For once, there is no dangerous surprise lurking in the shadows.

So, what’s on your agenda? During the day, volleyball, swimming, and a game that involves throwing small fabric sacks of dry lentils into wooden hoops in the sand can be enjoyed, alongside a plethora of frozen treats. At night, food and wine and lemonade are served at the banquet tables and lively music plays on the temporary wooden stage for dancing by firelight. There is also the lantern float, which encourages participants to send a glowing lantern out on the water in honor of the lost and the distant, ending the first night in a moment of peaceful sobriety. You may also notice a charming stranger milling around, cozying up to Royal, and drinking after nightfall--- a woman with dark olive skin, raven hair that soaks up the firelight, and rum brown eyes who wears a billowing blue dress and (whenever she hasn’t placed it onto someone else’s head for fun) a wide-brimmed black hat.

Then, at night, camp on the beach under the stars or head home by additional lantern light. The festivities will continue until the following afternoon! Feel free to share your beach fit in the fashion show thread below, as well. Enjoy!

Comments

[yournewsidekick]

Yeah. That hits. Nimona sags further in defeat.

"He's been so weird every time he visits," she says. "It's a huge bummer. I don't wanna go party without him, but I know he'll just mope if I call him up. And it's not even moping, y'know? It's like -- "

Her voice catches, a little.

"Like he can't wait to ditch me and go home."

[psalmofseasons]

"Mmm. Yeah, that's really weird and stressful. But Ballister didn't come the normal way, right? That spooky guy brought him. You think that has anything to do with how he's acting?" Gentle, leading questions. "Who was that guy, anyway?"

[yournewsidekick]

She shrugs. "I dunno, Rain-something?"

Slowly, her hand drifts to the locket itself, closing around it in a loose fist.

"He just gave me the locket so I could bring him. He didn't do anything."

[psalmofseasons]

"Efrain? Y'mean the Demon Prince of Sorrow's Song? Isn't making other people miserable like his whole schtick?"

[yournewsidekick]

A long pause follows. Nimona stares. Her grip tightens on the locket, abruptly, hard enough that she feels the violin decoration etching itself into her palm.

"What?"

[psalmofseasons]

"Efrain. He's one of the Demon Princes. He represents sadness, and feeds off of it. Those guys, they'll give you stuff as long as it benefits them, usually by making you feed into their domain," Kora explains plainly. "If you got that from him... There's a good chance he rigged it to make you sad."

[yournewsidekick]

She's lying, comes a vicious thought in the back of her head. Who even is this lady? She's screwing with you. You don't know her.

(But she does. Nimona has known her since the first day she sparked to life in a forest a billion miles away, a creature who has never been anything but exactly what she wanted to be. A creature of freedom who can't be chained by anything other than sorrow.)

"No," she says anyway, low enough to skate against a growl, like she's got her back against a wall and doesn't know what to do except bite. "What, you think it'd be better if I can't see him? You seriously think I'd be happier with him gone?"

[psalmofseasons]

Kora holds up her hands in surrender. "That's not what I said, hon. I said that this specific version of him is meant to make you feel bad. Do you really think your friend would treat you that way? Acting like he wants to leave constantly, like he blames you? Is that really what Ballister is like?"

[yournewsidekick]

"I don't know, maybe?" She doesn't mean for her voice to crack as she says that. She certainly doesn't want it to. But once it does, like the tiniest fracture in a dam that grows wider and wider from the pressure behind it --

(You ever had somebody say something that hurt so much, she said to Max once, it still hurts a little even after you forgive 'em?)

"Maybe he's not that different. Maybe he just said all that nice stuff to me because it got me to stop destroying everything. Maybe he was just lying the whole time, what do I know?!"

[psalmofseasons]

"C'mon, you're smarter than that. You know deep down that's unfair to him," Kora coaxes. "And it's unfair to you, too. Because you deserve to have nice things said to you."

Kora gingerly takes Nimona's hand in hers. Her fingers are rough and calloused from years of pulling rope, but long and elegant all the same, and her hands are as warm as a sunbeam. "The thing in the locket was made by someone who preys on your insecurities to feed on your pain. It's not Ballister. And you know it already. But when you accept it, he goes away, and that scares you. But you know what? It's a lot harder to fall into despair... when you have a safety net under you, waiting to catch you. And you do, Nimona. You are loved. It's safe to let go."

[yournewsidekick]

It's not Ballister.

"No," she says again. She doesn't sound like a trapped animal anymore; she sounds like a kid scared of the dark. The urge to shift itches along her ribs, but for once, Nimona fights it off. She knows exactly what she'd become if she gave in: the child who took the hand of a golden-haired girl a thousand years ago and never wanted to let go, until that girl leveled a sword at her heart and hissed, Go back to the shadows from whence you came.

What if Gloreth had just run away instead? What if she didn't say anything at all the next time they met -- just forced a smile and blamed Nimona with her eyes, never being so uncouth as to say the word monster aloud, but hating her all the same? How long would Nimona have kept clutching her hand in desperation, because as awful as a not-friendship might have been, going back to the loneliness of before would have been so much worse?

Her other hand stays clutched tight around the locket. "I can't," she says, teetering into a sob. "It has to be him. I don't want him to go."

Tighter.

"I don't -- "

A crisp, metallic snap sounds from inside her fist, and Nimona freezes. With dread, she uncurls her hand.

In her palm, the locket sits with a fine crack through its violin design, its clasp bent so badly it can never be opened again.

[psalmofseasons]

"It's okay, baby." Kora pulls Nimona into her arms immediately, holding her tight, rubbing her back. "It's okay. He's not here because he's alive. He's alive, and safe, and still your friend, even if he's far away. The lie can't hurt you anymore."

[yournewsidekick]

That's all it takes.

Nimona bursts into tears. As fast as she gives into the emotion, she gives into the shift. Within half a second Kora holds a sobbing child half Nimona's usual size, long red hair obscuring her face, clinging to her as tight as she clung to the locket as she bawls into her shirt.

[psalmofseasons]

"You're okay," Kora whispers, rocking her gently like a little boat on the sea, and stroking her hair. "It's all gonna be okay. I gotcha."

Kora doesn't let go until Nimona does.

[yournewsidekick]

"I miss him so much," she sobs, and that's all she can say for a long, long time.

A year now. A whole year since she exploded herself on the Kingdom's wall and somehow, the captain of that fucking cruise ship reached across a dozen universes to scoop a little piece of Nimona into a jar. She wasn't alone there, sure, and she's not alone here either... but she didn't have Ballister at her side anymore.

Until she did.

Or thought she did.

She burns with the pain of her heartbreak. Only the embrace of a goddess could keep her from crumbling to ash and smoke. She cries and cries for what feels like forever, and even after she finally trails into a sniffling, waterlogged quiet, she keeps one hand fisted in Kora's jacket.

[psalmofseasons]

"You wanna write him a letter?" Kora asks quietly, after the crying dies down. They can't bring someone here who hasn't died. But Royal's gotten pretty good at dimension hopping, and Kora's on good terms with him. "I know it's not the same. But it might help."

[yournewsidekick]

Nimona scrubs her eyes with her forearm. Uncertain, she looks up.

"...That'll work?" There's a weird mix of wariness and hope in her voice. "For real?"

[psalmofseasons]

"Yeah! It's not something I can do often, but it'll work. Just give Royal an orange or something for his time," Kora explains. "I can't do this for everybody, so don't advertise it too much. But I can pull a few strings for my favorite shark."

[yournewsidekick]

She sputters a laugh. It's short, but it shakes her whole body, pink glittering lights rippling off her skin. When she coalesces again, Nimona's back in her teenage shape: perfect for throwing her arms all the way around Kora to hug her even more tightly.

Maybe she should be a little more skeptical. The last time someone went hey, we're gathering up a bunch of letters to send home, wanna write one? it was all a big lie they used to cover up launching that probe from the Serena Eterna. But... nah. Nimona trusts this lady just like how, when she throws herself off a tower, she trusts her body to sprout wings and fly.

"Thank you," she says, muffled but fervent against Kora's shoulder. "I'll -- "

A tiny sniffle.

"Ugh, yeah, I gotta think about what I wanna say first, but. I'll write it soon."