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

[tehilim127_1]

Zivia laughs, a brief but loud peal. "I can promise you no turnips. I don't think they lend themselves to grilling."

Onto a plate she expertly slides a selection of vegetables -- bright summer colors, reds and yellows, interspersed with deep fire-licked browns. "The corn's already seasoned," she tells him as she adds half an ear to the pile, "but if you want butter too, there's some on the tables."

[preacher_in_reticence]

"I think I will indulge." In the butter, of course, not anything else at the moment, even if his gaze lingers on how that dress moves with her, how the wind catches on her hat, on how her eyes spark as she smiles. She looks good, like this.

[tehilim127_1]

"I might too, in a bit," she says cheerfully, and adds in apparent non-sequitur, "haven't had any of the chicken yet. That a good amount for you?" Her spatula hovers in midair, ready to set aside or scoop up a few more tidbits.

[preacher_in_reticence]

"You should stop and eat, Zivia. Join me, for a bit. We can watch the vegetables while you take a break." He nods at her question--that's plenty food. "And I can pose a quandry for you, regarding your religious rules."

[tehilim127_1]

She hesitates, but only for a moment. "Well, you know me, I'm always up for a good quandry. Give me a sec, I'll grab a plate for myself."

And she does so, emerging from behind the grill with her own serving.

[preacher_in_reticence]

"I have a recipe for stuffed peppers. As far as I'm aware, the recipe doesn't break any of your dietary laws inherently. However, I received the recipe from one of my goddesses. Would it be against the rules you follow for me to share it with you?"

Diving right into it, as he finds a place for them to sit and eat.

[tehilim127_1]

Zivia opens her mouth, pauses, frowns without closing her mouth, tilts her head slightly, and gradually takes on an expression of delighted perplexity. (Icons cannot hope to capture the scope of this face journey.)

"Do you know," she says, marveling, "I'm actually not sure? What a great question. Let me think."

And she pops a sliver of grilled zucchini into her mouth and chews, considering.

[preacher_in_reticence]

"Want to think aloud? I want to hear what's going into the debate in your mind."

He chews on some grilled onion, first.

[tehilim127_1]

"Well, for starters -- obligatory disclaimer, I'm not a rabbi and ideally I'd want to check with one, but here's what I've got --"

She reaches for the butter dish on the table, examines the butter briefly, seems satisfied, and rummages in her shoulder bag for a spoon to scoop up a portion for her plate.

"So as I learned it once, the key prohibitions are against performing either our own mode of worship to a god that isn't ours, or whatever mode is commonly practiced for the god in question. Now would I be right if I guessed that there's nothing about either cooking or recipe-sharing that's part of your formal religious services here?"

[preacher_in_reticence]

His turn to think about it.

"The recipe came to me in a letter given pretty informally to me. Cooking is done for festivals and holidays--which this whole beach party is part of, if we want to get technical. To celebrate Summer is to celebrate Kora, but we're not being formal about it here. But the pepper recipe is not traditional for any of them. Also, someone will need to get the peppers from the jungle, but that's a whole other complication."

[tehilim127_1]

She listens, nodding, slathering an alarming amount of butter on her corn.

"Okay. So I think, unless there's something about the situation I don't know, there'd be no stricture against me taking the recipe from you. Or using it for my own benefit or anyone else's."

A pause, in which she nudges the butter dish in his direction. "Also, if there were something in the recipe that did break the dietary laws, I could still take it and maybe try and modify it for my use."

[preacher_in_reticence]

"I'll bring it with next time I see you."

He glances at the butter dish, at her, at the corn, and then back at the butter dish.

"Dr. Winterbottom says I should watch how much butter I eat."

[tehilim127_1]

"She's probably right," Zivia says, very promptly, very solemnly.

[preacher_in_reticence]

He quietly dabs a moderate amount of butter on the corn, adds some black pepper.

"Probably, but I'm not going to die of a heart attack. Or at least, I won't stay dead."

[tehilim127_1]

"Oh, I'm not going to say you should eat less butter. Just, you know. Observe it."

Newborn puppies don't look this innocent.

[preacher_in_reticence]

Degas picks up the bowl of butter, holding it up at eye level, and looks intensely at it. "What, will it do a trick if I look hard enough at it?"

[tehilim127_1]

"You never know, it might. And either way, you can tell Dr. Winterbottom that you watched it assiduously."

She takes a bite of her corn, being extremely careful not to get melted butter on her nose.

[preacher_in_reticence]

Degas laughs, adding more butter to his corn. And to the roasted mushrooms for good measure, before digging into the meal eagerly.

[tehilim127_1]

By dint of great effort, she doesn't laugh until he does.

-=-

It's later, the sun gone down and the stars glimmering out in the dark sky. As though in answer, points of light are spreading on the dark sea, lanterns bobbing away with the tide.

Zivia's standing alone by the shore, watching the lights, carrying an unlit lantern of her own.

[preacher_in_reticence]

Degas has three lanterns in hand as he finds a spot to release them. As he sees Zivia, he clears his throat and doesn't speak, just sort of does a 'you mind?' gesture.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, there's a question about whether this ritual doesn't count as religious practice for her, but that's for later. Now, now is for them, and for the lanterns.

[tehilim127_1]

She looks up at him, and gives a small smile and an answering tilt of the head. Sure, feel free.

[preacher_in_reticence]

He slinks closer, preparing to let his lanterns loose to float away. One has Melly's name. One, Merrick's. And the third? Petros and Liara. His mood seems to be more thoughtful than somber, more pensive than funereal.

[tehilim127_1]

Melly's name doesn't surprise her at all. Merrick's takes a moment longer to place.

The third, with its paired names, catches her attention. She glances up at him; her expression isn't a question unless he wants it to be.

[preacher_in_reticence]

He gives a sheepish little shrug.

"My kids. They're alive--outside the barrier. Liara's apprenticed to an artificer in Providence. Petros is in Cahoots. Serranai reassured me they're both alive and well and call each other regularly. I know the lantern won't reach them, but I still like to put it out there because I love them."

[tehilim127_1]

"Oh." Briefly but perceptibly startled. "I -- don't think I knew you had kids. How old are they?"