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pumpkinhollow) wrote2024-07-21 01:43 pm
pumpkinhollow) wrote2024-07-21 01:43 pm
July Mini Event - Seaside Sway
Pumpkin Hollow Community Bulletin
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
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!
no subject
He wrinkles his nose a little, though, troubled by John's words. Watson rubs at his shoulder a little, absently. "You're no uglier than I am," he says, meangingfully, "and I'm not nearly so brave as to follow suit in front of so many people."
no subject
John isn’t blushing. Shut up.
“I mean, the dimples? Come on, I’d absolutely be asking for your number and failing miserably if you were single. No scar’s gonna wreck that, and—“
And you got shot. Your scars all came from battle. I didn’t fight for mine, and some came to me long before the war.
But John’s throat closes around the mass of cold truth, and he can’t squeeze any of the words out.
no subject
He bends down to splash the water over his face and shoulders. "I've also seen worse than either of us, and the woman who loved him regardless."
no subject
The mention of the other man--that gets John's attention. He didn't let himself really believe, at first, but...
"Holmes?" he asks, smiling sheepishly. "I, uh...I sorta held out on you. I've--read some of the stuff you put out about his cases."
There. That fits. And if you look at it the right way? Not a lie, either.
no subject
He hadn't written that story, yet. He'd intended to, but he hadn't got that far yet, and it's slightly disorienting to be known in this way to people from such alien times and places, sometimes. Watson is flattered, though. Of course he is. Faintly flustered, he shakes his head.
"If you're asking if Holmes was my lover," his voice is low, but steady, "then I must disappoint you. I don't think he even had an interest in such things, with either men or women. Still, he was my partner and companion, and as dear to me in his own way as was my wife." Watson smiles faintly. "You understand, of course, that I rather hope my contemporaries see no such thing in my work, or at least not without a healthy dose of plausible deniability."
no subject
"Nah--nothing obvious." he assures him. "I mean...I come from your future, I guess, so I've probably read a lot more 'n you've had happen yet. I was thinkin' a little bit about a woman called Irene Adler, dunno if you've met her yet. Plus, if memory serves, didn't you meet your wife on a case with Holmes? Maybe I'm wrong...either way, growing up? What you 'n me--I mean, being bisexual--it's still not okay. Hell, I didn't know it was a thing 'till I got here. But what I saw when I read your stories about him was just seeing two men who loved each other. No definition, just...love. You can kinda see what you want to see, and...what I saw was that maybe I couldn't look at guys--least I thought it wasn't allowed--but there's never anything wrong with a guy having a fucking emotion."
He thinks of Delmar, a rare moment without pain, and he smiles.
"I actually sorta...tried to shoot my shot during the war with this guy, Delmar. He didn't swing that way, but I still loved him, and we were best friends after that. Stuff like you 'n Holmes? I'm not sure I'd have been able to let myself have that chance at such a great friendship if not for that. So...thank you. And don't sweat it. You're good."
no subject
His second novel, mildly more successful than the first. Talking of Mary is... risky, in the way pressing too hard on a healing wound is risky, and if Holmes is easier to speak of, that's only because it's been a little longer.
"He was my dearest friend and I loved him," Watson says, helplessly. "That some of that should show in my writing isn't surprising, but I wouldn't have ever thought anyone might find it helpful in any way. To be told so is... humbling. Thank you."