#toamidsommar2022

[theofficersacademy]

Midsommar 2022 : Prompts and Memes Part 1

The sun begins its evening descent, bathing the sky in hues of pale yellow and gold. After a long day of collecting firewood and arranging the burning piles, your hard work is finally rewarded with the sight of a festival truly coming together. Merchants set up their wares and prepare their treats, filling the air with fragrant smoke and the warm scent of fried sweets.

Priests strike matches over each of your wood piles. Fires burns brightly. ‘tis the beginning of Midsommar!

The bonfires are burning….

[ ROAST ] Food over the fires, from meats to marshmallows. Each house has their own representative bonfire, and each fire has a large pot with their representative soup. Add something to it or try out what your classmates have been cooking.

[ EAGLES SOUP ] Black Eagles: Thick goulash, hearty, enough to feed a thousand soldiers. “Thousand Soldiers’ Soup” made with dried ingredients and reconstituted on the roads

[ LIONS SOUP ] Blue Lions: White fish, leeks, potatoes, heavy cream, keeps you nice and warm.

[ DEER SOUP ] Golden Deer: Broad beans, spiced sausages, seasonal vegetables, red hot with paprika imported from Dagda.

[ DANCE ] While Midsommar traditions began in the Empire and spread gradually across Fódlan, each country has its own Midsommar song and dance around the fire. Follow your house’s traditions, or bring in a little something from home.

[ BURN ] Burn different plants as offerings to the Goddess. Herbs and powders are sold by local vendors to change the scent and color of the smoke.

[ LEAP ] All around the hills outside of town, the people of Fódlan light bonfires to scare away evil spirits. Leaping over them is said to bring good luck, and many challenge each other to see who can jump the highest. Young couples link hands and try to jump together, hoping for prosperity in the year to come.

[ TELL ] Share stories around the fire. Lately, children have made a game out of whispering a story into their friend’s ear, who has to retell the story to the best of their ability to their friend, and so on. When the story finally reaches the end of the “convoy,” it’s often a completely new story.

[ TASTE ] Away from the noise of the festivities, the Chefs of the Round Table (the cooking club) has set up a mostly-private bonfire to test out some of their new creations. Their latest masterpiece? Something called a “marsh mallow,” a recipe from the Sreng region sweetened with vanilla and sugar. It’s supposedly delicious when toasted over a fire…

The Garland Moon begins...

[ CROWN ] Make a flower crown, or bestow one upon another.

[ GARLAND ] The Garland Moon is upon Fódlan, and garlands are being strung up all around Garreg Mach. Among the shop stalls selling handmade trinkets and knickknacks are florists with the last of the spring flowers, already woven and made into garlands and corsages. This may be your last chance to confess to your special someone before the season changes!

[ PAIR UP ] Single people get dressed up and paired off with other single people, this is the season of love and baby animals and the older adults won’t tolerate a humbug Singleton. If you already have a special someone, then dive right into the singing and dancing together!

[ SHOP ] The festivities draw merchants from all across the world to sell their wares, but beware: the crowds are ripe for pickpockets, and unscrupulous potion sellers take advantage of anyone who looks confused and gullible.

[ MUSIC ] There is no shortage of music or food. Join in with hymns around the cathedral, find the bards singing old folktales by the river, or try to swipe as many free samples as you can in the market.

[lualamina]

Worse Than Death

Midsommar starter for @ulirblood

It had started as a way to pass the time. Jeritza was, unfortunately, both a professor at the Officers Academy and a Knight of Seiros in name, and alongside the immunity those titles conferred came expectations and a certain degree of responsibility. His savior did what she could to see that he was spared from the more mundane aspects of the life, but she was still just a student herself; she held little sway over the way things were. And Jeritza was contracted to play his part all the same.

His name should have been the last picked to be a guard for Midsommar’s festivities though. The sheer number of visitors in town made his skin crawl. Their voices were like nails dragged down a chalkboard. And everywhere he turned, children were weaving in and around the legs of festival-goers, hands full of sticky sweets or strings of firecrackers. He managed to find some quiet, out-of-the-way alley where two barrels of rejected turnips for the carving competition were awaiting their fate and stood there for some time, watching the sky change colors with the passing afternoon. His hands twitched and tingled though, desperate for something to do, so eventually he plucked one misshapen turnip from the bunch and, leaning against the wall, set to work on it with his hunting knife.

Jeritza had dabbled in woodcarving before - it had been a pastime preserved from childhood - and the turnip reminded him of birchwood. Firm and solid, yet soft enough to work. He made a few test cuts, white skin curling easily before the edge of his blade and dropping in long strips at his feet, and finding them satisfactory, allowed himself to focus wholly on the project. Within moments, the entirety of the festival, its crowds, the nail-on-chalkboard voices, and all the rowdy children disappeared around him.

He had finished a cat and was notching feathers into a bird’s wing when he felt the eyes upon him. He glanced up, his own shadowed and cold, and the pair of children watching him half-hid behind one of the barrels. His blade stopped against his thumb.

“What is it?” he asked gruffly. One of the children hesitated, but then pointed at the cat carving sitting on a nearby crate.

“... Th-that looks like my cat, Snowball,” answered the child. “Can I have it?”

Without saying a word, Jeritza picked up the carving and handed it over. The girl’s entire face lit up with a smile as she clutched it to her chest.

“Oh, thank you, Mister!”

Jeritza merely grunted and returned to his carving. The children dashed off with their new toy, and he thought that would be the end of it. Another child soon came, requesting the bird. Then a fourth, wishing to see a trout. A new pair wanted two bears - a big one and a small one. Jertiza found himself entertaining each request, and the children, for the most part, were quiet as they watched him. But the crowd grew larger, and adults soon gathered around as well.

“Mr. Knight-- Mr. Knight--” This one was the voice of a middle-aged woman, waving a white handkerchief for his attention. “My boy is at home sick this evening and couldn’t make it to the festival. I’d like to bring him back a trinket. A swan would do, if you-- Hm?”

Jeritza grimaced and stood up without a word.

“Mr. Knight? Mr. Knight, where are you going?”

The crawling sensation was back again, and the woman’s voice had transformed into the creaks and scrapes of rusted screws twisting into place. He couldn’t hear his own thoughts, only that the pounding of blood in his head meant he had to get away. His shoulder collided roughly with that of a blonde cleric as he rounded a corner at the end of the alley, but he neither stopped nor looked back for apology.

“Mr. Kni--” The middleaged woman was still hot on his trail, waving her handkerchief. “Oh, miss!” This time she called to the cleric. “Please stop that man!”

[anankelotus]

Garlands for Mikoto

@gentlenekomata continued from here

Spring and flowers were probably one of the favourite things in Sakura’s life and the occasion of the Midsommar festivity was certainly a great occasion to spend some time in doing what she loved the most: making flowers crowns. She was quite skilled actually, as she used to practice a lot when she was younger, especially with her mother Mikoto; the two of them used to spend a lot of time together in the main garden of the castle, happily playing and gathering flowers, as they later would do some fancy decorations for the family.

It was indeed a happy memory.

Lost in thoughts, she regained consciousness as soon as Anankos gently placed the flower crown over her head, since it slowly dropped over her face, making her blush and giggle at the apologies of the latter. “No need to apology” she softly spoke, rising the crown she was holding in her hands, “I’ve made one for you too.” she softened her tone, “My mother used to love doing flower crowns and I think she would be happy to see you doing as well— with me” she teased, now placing with care the crown on his head, a dainty smile as she observed the result of her creation.

“Wanna do another one for her?”

Anankos smiles softly, kneeling next to the girl as she places the flower crown on his head. He feels rather relaxed for once in the presence of many people, despite how much he usually hates crowds like the one at this festival. 

"It's very nice Sakura..." She really does possess Mikoto's gentle nature, surely taught over years of nurture in her loving care. He is truly glad that even if their daughter had been taken from her, that she still had so much love in her heart to give to her stepchildren.

"...Mikoto did so love making things out of flowers... anything really, not just flower crowns. She was like her ancestor in that way..." He falters, his hands wringing nervously in his lap. He has not spoken of Cadros much to anyone - other than Shigure - since arriving at the academy, but it is the comfort in this moment that makes him think of both of his lost loves.

"I'm sure she'd like us to make one for her though... since she cannot be here..." He smiles a little sadly, wishing that she could. Wishing that both of them could, but those years he had spent with them - though separated by centuries - were long past him. Things that could never be regained.

[nabataprophet]

[ PIES ] Spiced meat pies or delicate strawberry pies? Pick one and dig in at this bustling pie stall! The owners have a special challenge, if you choose to accept: any brave soul that can scarf down twenty of these delicious pies will receive a very special prize! 

Luke slid into the chair across from Sophia's , elbow on the table as he propped himself up into a flirtatious pose.

"Soooo, I bet I could eat twenties pies no problem, but they're really best when shared, don't you think? My favorite flavor is whatever you like."

midsommar prompts part 2

Sophia is one bite into her blackberry pie when a stranger helps himself to the chair across from her and immediately launches into a conversation.

His favorite flavor is whatever she likes? If this is his favorite flavor, there's not much else she can do but give it to him. Ready as she is to dig in, she will have more chances in her life to eat pie than this human man, so it's only right to give him the chance in her stead.

(...But...but she only just started eating, though...)

"...Here...you can have it..."

Sophia slides her barely touched pie over to Luke and walks away, quietly mourning it.

[atypicalsenerio]

At last, the festival was over.

Like when he’d been suddenly warped and shoved into the Thunder Mouse costume, he found himself warped and the yellow headpiece lifted off of him by enthusiastic festival staff. The witch who Soren took to be the team lead clapped her hands. “Did you have fun?”

Small children had run up to hug him on every other street. Teenagers and adults alike were enamored with Thunder Mouse and had showed Soren the side of humanity he’d rarely seen as an exiled boy created from a taboo union back home. He’d gotten up to a few of his own minor pranks under the mask of adorable anonymity. He’d been a fully different person, his steps higher, heart light as the festival wound down and he realized he hadn’t needed someone like Ike to ensure Soren had a decent time with other people.

He scowled.

“It was miserable and nowhere near worth what you offered to pay.”

Soren snatched the Thunder Mouse head back, soft fabric held carefully in his hands. “I’m taking this costume as proper compensation. It’s worth more than your offered wages.”

“So you’ll wear it again?”

“None of your business.”

He had the feeling that his lines were easy to read between as he finished stepping fully out of the costume and got ready to go back to his dorm. The entire role had grown on him. Selling the outfit was still an option, but some strange side of him wanted to keep it, in case he ever wanted to not be Soren for a day.

That’s right- it wasn’t about pathetic feelings over feeling like a person or becoming attached to a fictional being- it had uses in espionage.

He strode off in a huff, costume fully deflated and tucked away in a bag.

Memories of the day flashed by and he couldn’t help but still for a moment, thinking of everything from Pelleas’s joy and leading an obnoxious parade of cheer behind Valter.

Soren did have fun.

He kicked a rock, glaring at it. Whatever.

He checked out some Thunder Mouse books in secret to figure out what the fuss was about.

[carefreemonk]

pick a god and pr- haha jk

from here  @opnaskr

"i certainly do not see any decent reason to be offended over a mortal's offerings— no matter the value." a brief silent pause and his ears flicker. ".. though there are indeed some very fickle gods and goddesses out there who do not understand the value of a mortal's respect."

the man before him is a curious one— unique among the many mortals he's ever met in his life. many sung praise for their respective gods and held them on the highest of pedestals, but this one? not so much. askr deeply valued the respect and affection the mortals of his realm held for him... but it was refreshing to be treated like just another acquaintance for once. he never thought himself anymore special for being a god, anyways.

"hmm well, i am no mortal... but i imagine the belief in a higher god—who perhaps does not show himself— gives them the strength to carry on, no? some may not be able to find it in themselves to be able to be strong without some ideal to cling to." he chuckles then, much more good-natured than azama. "yes mortals may be silly, but that is what is so endearing about them."

What a funny guy... “Fickle indeed, the lot of them,” he says, punctuating the thought with something betwixt scoff and chuckle - an Azama Special™️ if you will. Not that a mortal’s respect was worth any more than that of a god’s, which was to say, well...

None were exempt from the monk’s pointed barbs on even the best of days.

Askr continues and Azama half listens, stuck on a particular point. When the man with the horns (friend of Rinkah’s?) finishes his line of thought, Azama’s brows knit together in a rare, albeit brief look of consternation.

Haha ha. What.

“You are no mortal, you say? Yes, yes, you and me both,” he plays along with a smile and a dismissive wave, hanging up yet another bundle. “So nice to meet a fellow out on the street. Merely two normal visitors to this mortal plane, giving up offerings to deities not your own and earning wages working at a school for the privileged and thje dandy... Just another regular day in Fodlan, oho ho.”

Hmm. What a funny guy, indeed!

“What do your followers practice? Mine lean toward asceticism.”

And by that he means they live and die by it, to the point where he left them behind one day because they were getting a bit too obsessed for his liking. Yes, he’s a monk, a holy man who can get by with very little - an insignificant insect in the wheel of fate’s constant rotation, truly - but he’s not going to starve himself to the bone just to prove it... Yikes, you guys.

But at the least they weren’t going around pretending to be gods.

[fangedjustice]

Singed Tears

@serraic x

He really wasn't even sure that she'd accept his offering, but the girl -- lines of tears tracking through the glitter on her face, mouth pouting -- didn't much seem to care that it was him. She stabbed the treat like it was the singular cause of her woes.

It was not, but alas, a sacrifice must be made in the name of venting.

Lloyd did his level best to keep up with what Serra was going on about; nodding along at first because he could understand the frustration and upset of having hard work ruined, and then tapering off into slightly dumbfounded stillness as the girl tried to recruit him.

He chuckled a little, muffling it slightly behind his fist because the girl was still in a bit of a state and he wasn't making light of that. Just...she thought he could cry on cue? Did he look the sort, or was she grasping at straws?

"I'm not much of an actor, I'm afraid," Lloyd eventually replied, amusement still clinging to his words, "So if it's tears you need, I think you'd best keep searching. However, if you truly think it important to do so, I'll go with you." He wasn't sure it would get her the result she wanted, as he was sure no one had forced her to make a jump, but he was content to play support.

"I'm curious, is this not something they do in Lycia? You seem like you were...unprepared for the possible results..."

[gentlenekomata]

[ CROWN ] Make a flower crown, or bestow one upon another.

It would've been so much simpler to simply ignore the festivities, but as popular as they were, they were nigh unavoidable.

He is not well-practiced, but he does not lack the dexterity necessary for the task, easily weaving together fresh flowers into a delicate crown. Valter has no need to keep it; it was an exercise and nothing more, and so he decides to give it away (his reputation be forsaken).

The first person he finds suitable is a young-looking girl, appearance and demeanor matching his creation almost perfectly. She would be suitable.

" Here. I have no use for it, so you may have it instead. "

Midsommar 2022

While peacefully walking her way towards the main area of the cathedral, the petite priestess was suddenly stopped by a very peculiar man, tall, outstanding, very intimidating, but still, a rather cute and fresh flower crown stood out from his hands, an abrupt motion and he gave the object to Sakura, to much of her surprise actually.

“That’s for me?” she was astonishingly happy; flowers probably were the best gift you could give her. “This is so beautiful... thank you so much!” she happily took it, sniffing it as to try to recognize the scent and the flowers in it.

“May I ask you name?” she timidly asked, before he could disappear from where he came. “I’d love to repay your lovable kindness!”

[lockpicnic]

[ continued from here ]

Of course she wasn’t listening! They had to hurry and get some marsh mallows before they ran out-- she refused to let Miranda go through this event without trying one! It had been hard to believe that the two were the same age when Miranda was so...dull! She probably would’ve gotten along with Febail...

“Ya don’t gotta call me Lady Patty, ya know-- ‘m just Patty here, and you’re just Miranda!” Depending on the situation, of course! If a very handsome, rich man looking for a Princess came around, well...she wouldn’t mind being Lady Patricia for a moment or two. 

“Watch!” She can’t help but giggle as Miranda plays with her food, taking her own marsh mallow and spearing it without hesitation. “So ya put it just above the flame, not in it-- that way it doesn’t catch on fire or anythin’!” The thief does just as she instructed, toasting the sweet treat until it was a golden brown. “It’s gonna be all gooey in the centre-- try it!”

And without further warning, Patty shoves the marsh mallow into Miranda’s mouth.

[laslow]

I Am Thou, Thou Art I

> continued from here

If Odin--sorry, Skull’s--costume looks that flashy, Laslow shudders to think how his own outfit looks. It’s with no small trace of dread he finally faces his reflection in the mirror. 

Oh. This isn’t half bad, actually! The oversized collar jutting out on either side of his neck is a little obnoxious, but the rest of the navy jumpsuit is surprisingly low-key. Laslow moves his arms a bit, getting a feel for the billowing sleeves. 

He then fiddles with the navy and white striped belt a moment, finally satisfied with how to rests across his waist. The white boots fit almost as comfortably as his normal ones. He sends a silent thank you to Odin for the costume choice. 

Brow crinkles upon hearing Personage V. It sounds familiar... 

“Those light novels you were obsessed with? Seriously, this is another level of dedication.” Laslow turns from his reflection. “I am already cool and mysterious, thank you very much!” (That’s what he tells himself, at least.) 

Skull dashes off, and Laslow starts to follow, until he feels something hitting the back of a leg. He stops, head craning to look. “My wha--ODIN! What will the ladies say about this!?” 

@teneguine !!

[theofficersacademy]

Midsommar 2022 : Prompts and Memes Part 2

In for a treat, or just getting tricked?

[ COSTUME ] Forgot your demon costume? Vendors have set up stalls in town offering all sorts of accessories to get customers in the Midsommar spirit. Pointed wax teeth are subtle but expensive, but you don’t need a heavy purse to rent out a glittering cape or a fancy hat. With the damage fines this high, you better be careful not to get them dirty!

[ FORTUNE ] An old witch sits in the shadows of the alley, claiming that she can speak to the dead. She beckons all who pass by to visit her.

[ PERFORMANCE ] This is a festival for street performers! Everywhere you go in Garreg Mach, you’re bound to find some sort of show - from puppet theater to firebreathing and tests of strength and skill. Stop to marvel at Fódlan’s talent, or maybe try showing off your own!

[ SCARE ] Many of the children that run past you are dressed in strange costumes, pretending to be all sorts of characters. Witches, animals, scarecrows… even some of your classmates are showing off sharp false teeth and glittering capes. Costumes like these are part of the festival spirit this time of year!

[ SECRET ] While the festival is supposed to be family-friendly, and indeed more children than usual run through the streets, you catch wind of a tavern in some forgotten alley of the town where one can go for some “adult” entertainment. Like wine tasting. Just wine tasting. (don’t tell the clergy).

[ CARVING ] With the spring harvest comes an abundance of turnips. So many that merchants have brought them to Garreg Mach by the bushel to sell them for Midsommar. Once believed to ward demons and other monsters away if one carved a face into them, the turnip carving tradition is now little more than a fun activity for children to do with their parents.

Food stalls crowd the town square, visitors hawking sweet and savory snacks...

[ PIES ] Spiced meat pies or delicate strawberry pies? Pick one and dig in at this bustling pie stall! The owners have a special challenge, if you choose to accept: any brave soul that can scarf down twenty of these delicious pies will receive a very special prize! 

[ JELLYBEAN ] One particular stall catches your eye: piles of little bean-shaped gummies shine in the lantern’s light, all too colorful to ignore. Clover honey, strawberry, peaches… With so many choices, you can’t help but take your time looking over the vendor’s selection. Strangely, he nods and gives you a knowing look. “Ah, I see. We have the same… interests, do we?” From below the table, the vendor pulls out a heavy wooden box, opening it to reveal an array of jellybeans. While they are as colorful and delectable as the ones on the table, their labels are more than a little troubling. Sweaty socks? Essence of skunk? “Excellent for tricks… though you didn’t get these from me.”

The return of the Magic Club’s special haunted corridors!

[ SHOW OFF ] You, of course, are a brave soul, keen of eye, and have some people to impress. Friends? Crushes? Rivals? You scoff at the mere idea that someone could scare you with some cheap parlor trick and roam about the hallways with crossed arms and plenty of skepticism.

[ SCREAM ] All your friends are gone–dead, probably, when you remember their terrified screams as they thrashed against the firm grip of a bloody butcher with a rabbit mask. You also remember the way the cleaver glinted in the cold light. Your feet pound against the tile as you flee from your pursuer, the butcher’s twin with a chicken’s face and an even bigger knife. You trip, fall, get back up again. You trip, fall–why the hell are you falling so much? A “corpse” springs to life in front of your path, but a solid punch sends them reeling. You don’t look back. All you can do is scream, and run.

[teneguine]

[ DANCE ] While Midsommar traditions began in the Empire and spread gradually across Fódlan, each country has its own Midsommar song and dance around the fire. Follow your house’s traditions, or bring in a little something from home.

//via midsommar pt. 1; no longer accepting!

"Oho! So you wish to dance with the fabled Oberon Dark? But understand this, mortal: the only time I dance... Is with death!"

Though he was, in moments prior, experiencing a rare moment of downtime by the fire, being called on by Deirdre has him snapping to action. He springs from his seat--full of all the vigor and bursting energy one has come to expect from him at this point--to join the lady in her dance. Only he does not do so unarmed. He draws his sword, the pitiful Missiletainn, to add to his moves. It does not gleam or sing, nor does it catch the light of the flame before it. Its metal is dulled, its edge is chipped. Yet the way he handles it almost frames it as something truly legendary.

"Behold! a technique taught to me by a master of dance-swording. Through indigo skies it soars, perfecting the radiant edge of its form as it dazzles the opposition! Don't stare too long, or you may be struck... By stars! I give you the Sacred Dance of the Mystic Blade!"

Missiletainn firmly in hand, Owain begins what is better described as 'routine', not dancing. Sure he twirls and leaps, and there is the gift of motion in his hips. But he is so off-key, so hopelessly out of sync with the rhythm the bards play, that he might as well be marching to the drum of his own heartbeat. Sometimes he stops to incorporate the sword, either thrusting forward as though he were in a duel, or haphazardly swinging it around and envisioning himself cleaving through hoards of Risen. It is as dangerous as it is embarrassing, with Owain at one point dipping his beloved weapon into the bonfire, so that its edge may scatter embers into the cool night air as he moves.

Truly, a tragic performance. At least he remembers to put the flame out when he's done.

[aurheatum]

Rhea had always been a source of curiosity for Soren, never quite trusting foreign authority figures. Still, diguised as Thunder Mouse, he approached her with a plate with a strawberry pie on it, holding it out and watching her reaction behind the cutesy Thunder Mouse face.

midsommar 2022 part 2 | open

She hasn't had much time to care for her own needs, overseeing the festivities as it were, so when a figure appears at her side nudging something into her hands Rhea responds in a familiar way:

"Really, Seteth. I am fine. Should you not be with Flayn and - oh."

Turning to take the piece of pie from the costumed Thunder Mouse Rhea clears her throat, embarrassed. She was sure this festival attendant had not meant it like that at all - had most likely just seen a lone costumed woman in the crowd and taken pity on her.

"Apologies for the mistake, I would be glad to take this," Rhea says, taking a bite and watching the unchanging face of Thunder Mouse as she did so. She suppose she couldn't exactly offer a refreshment in turn with a costume like that...

"Pardon me, I am not familiar with the book of children's stories you are from but we make quite a pair do we not? Why, we could walk around as a witch and her familiar! If you are amenable of course."

[sacaeblade]

[ SECRET ] While the festival is supposed to be family-friendly, and indeed more children than usual run through the streets, you catch wind of a tavern in some forgotten alley of the town where one can go for some “adult” entertainment. Like wine tasting. Just wine tasting. (don’t tell the clergy).

midsommar prompts part 2

Student though she may technically be in terms of Garreg Mach, Lyn is already an adult, you know? And being an adult means wanting to sneak off sometimes to drink that forbidden nectar, but the Church is surprisingly vigilant about where students go. Not tonight, though. Everyone is distracted by the festivities and it's simple enough to sneak off, wandering through the darkened alleyways.

(The walk to the tavern is a bit like walking around Issyk, which only makes her want to drink more.)

The door chimes and someone steps into the tavern. Lyn vaguely recognizes that shaggy purple hair from the academy, though they're in different classes. Emerald eyes meet amethyst and Lyn lowers her flask from her lips.

"Hey, I won't say anything to the clergy if you don't," she says with a shrug. He doesn't look too uptight. "But I'd avoid the wine from the middle tap if I were you. It's super dry. The ones on the far left and right are the best, in my opinion."

[atypicalsenerio]

Be Festive Or Else (This Is “Else”)

Soren had had enough of the festivities before they even began. He didn’t care that much for sweets, he didn’t feel like dancing, and his mood was more of a storm cloud than usual over the dining hall being closed and therefore forcing him to go to town for food and witness people having fun.

Couples having fun.

Jealousy was a useless emotion, and when he discarded it all he found underneath was loneliness. Even if Ike had been there, he might’ve only wanted to eat the spicy sausage soup, but Soren would have been content at his side. He didn’t want to think about Ranulf. He didn’t want to think about Pelleas and Micaiah and their… thing? Maybe they were dating, maybe they weren’t, but Soren was still baffled at his own insistence to Pelleas in the bridalwear shop to not squander what little joy his life had left in it.

Soren kicked a pebble, scowling as he stood in a soup line. He hadn’t bothered dressing up and was only in his student uniform. He’d get his meal, go to his room, and pretend he of all people needed to study while actually just sulking.

Fate had other ideas.

To be specific, a gaggle of ladies dressed as witches with little pumpkins and bats all over their summer festival costumes swarmed him.

“You look quite grouchy dear, is everything alright?”

“Come on, be festive!”

“If you don’t have a costume, we’ll help.”

Soren’s best withering glare didn’t scare them off. “I don’t care. I-“

It happened in a flash. He suspected someone had dared used a Warp staff on him. In a blink, he was standing on the other side of town and there was a fluttering of fabric from all sides, despite his confused protests. When he could see again he got the impression he was practically in a suit of heavy armor, except it was exceptionally light and roomy, perhaps with air magic inflating the exterior. He was looking out of his new headpiece, and right into a mirror.

“…”

The festival staff were delighted. “You’re so cute! We’ll help you out of it later, but go on, spread some cheer-“

“No, I demand you get me out of th-“

“You’re a beloved character from Adrestian storybooks, okay? You don’t have to talk or anything. The little paws come off too so you can get your dinner. Go get em, Thunder Mouse!”

Soren stared as his undeniably adorable reflection. Well… at least no one would recognize him from inside.

“…pay me for this.”

The witches exchanged glanced and one shrugged. “Sure! You’re spreading festival fun for this!”

It was impossible for them to tell that he was flipping them off from inside the giant Thunder Mouse costume, but he did it anyway as he left to go out into the festival.

[swiftscion]

[ PIES ] Spiced meat pies or delicate strawberry pies? Pick one and dig in at this bustling pie stall! The owners have a special challenge, if you choose to accept: any brave soul that can scarf down twenty of these delicious pies will receive a very special prize! 

//via midsommar pt. 2; still accepting!

Her mouth may be stuffed full of spiced meat goodness, but that would never stop Larcei!

"Mmf?" That is a grunt of familiarity, sounded out at Kurthnaga's approach. She recalls having met this... Interesting professor before, but it takes a second for her to put his name to his face.

"Ohm, hmfn thnm! Yrnn thmfph hunf dnf, hmm? Whnm wnphm ahmm..." She thinks as she chews, and finally she swallows. Coincidentally, that's when his name comes to mind, which elicits a small jump in her seat at the pie stand. It doesn't knock any pastries over, but it is enough to give them a solid bump.

"Kurthnaga! I remember now!"

Scion grins at the dragon, shooting her hand out for him to shake. Only it is filthy, its glove having been removed so Larcei wouldn't have to do her laundry early. When she realizes she had just offered a meat-and-crust-coated mess of a handshake, she corrects herself and pulls it back. A simple wave will do.

"Are you here for the festival? Oh, you should check this stall out! If you eat enough of their pies, they're promising some kind of reward."

"We can have that meal we never got around to sharing!"

She always knew she'd meet him on better days, and right now, as her gaze flickers between the mountain of meat-pies she still has to finish and him, she knows this is exactly it. They'd be able to catch up on any missed bonding!