The Harvest Faire: October Catch-All!

[loveskulls]

[ As the sun rises at the start of the month, a forest of colorful tents arises outside the city gates. It is not an enemy encampment, though, unless you hate fun. Then yes, it is an enemy encampment. Fun is assaulting the Kingdom in full force, as Harvest Faire fever sweeps across the nation. ]

[ You may join crowds of eager people on the initial days, or wait until the mania has died down to a more casual flow—but either way, there’s a lot to see and do at the faire. It all has to do with people trying to sell you on their religions by showing you their October Best in holidays, but the people of the Kingdom know that if they’re boring or too hard with their sales, no one will come back. So expect a fun, full immersion experience into this or that cult! Food, beverage, and substances will be provided, along with any props you may need to participate. ]

[ Or, I guess, find opportunities to get paid to be a carny, if money is more your speed than fun. ]

[ Cults are on a rotating schedule, so they won’t be the same every day, but eager acolytes will be glad to tell you when they’ll be back in the tent again, so you’ll be welcome to come back again. Maybe even bring a friend along with you? They’re often all smiles on the advertising side, no matter how macabre or dark their faith may be. ]

[ And hey, look, on some days, there’s empty tents... ]

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OOC Event Information | NPC Threads

Comments

this can only go well

[meteorman]

[Ford has stayed away from the festival proper; he's had enough of cults thank you very much. Not that any of the ones in this world seem all that malevolent, but it's still not quite his scene. Farming also isn't really his scene but this would not be the first time he's taken on some odd jobs in unfamiliar worlds to make ends meet. It beats paying for the majority of his groceries with blowjobs, which is what he's done since he arrived for lack of any other real option. This is a nice change of pace.

Despite his age he takes care of himself very well, so some physical labor is a cakewalk when he's trained himself to fight aliens. For once he isn't wearing a concealing sweater or coat, though the sleeveless black shirt he has on does still have a high collar. Gotta hide that tattoo. Visible on his arms are slash marks, bite marks, and even the occasional pockmark of an old bullet wound. And sweat, of course, and dirt. Vegetables, you know.]

Indeed. Autumn is perhaps my favorite of the seasons. Very brisk.

[When she holds up the flask he laughs and raises his own.]

No need, but thank you.

[shieldofrohan]

[She smiles, taking another drink from her flask and fastening it to her belt.]

It seemed meet to offer.

[She has to admit, she's curious about the scars. Some make sense to her - bites, and slashes, and other wounds familiar to her. Others, particularly the bullet wounds, baffle her.]

[It's not her intent to stare, but she's staring even so.]

[meteorman]

[He's kind of used to staring at this point. Honestly it's more refreshing that she's staring at his scars and not his hands, because out of the two he has significantly more hangups about the latter.]

If you're wondering, these are all quite old. Oddly enough, out of all the places I've traveled to this is one of the ones that has put the least effort into killing me.

[It it maybe a little rude to indirectly call her on her staring? Probably. But this is Ford Pines and he's not great at understanding when something might be rude.]

[shieldofrohan]

[She nods, still looking rather distracted.] It seems a gentle enough kind of place, for all its strangeness.

...Pardon my curiosity, but what caused these? [She reaches over to tap a fingertip against one of the bullet scars.] No weapon I know leaves so... neat a mark.

[meteorman]

[At this point he's used to people asking about his scars, when he actually wears clothing that displays them. He is not used to people just straight-up touching them with no preamble, but he supposes he has to get used to casual touch now. At the very least he saw that coming, because if he hadn't he'd probably have punched her in the mouth on reflex.]

Those? Those are from bullets. Small projectiles fired at a high velocity, fast enough to pierce the skin and do incredible amounts of damage internally. Something like an arrow with hundreds of times the power behind it and no shaft to aid removal.

[shieldofrohan]

...Oh.

[Well, that's... fucking horrifying. She frowns, letting her hand drop back to her side.]

They sound fell indeed.

[meteorman]

They can be, if you don't get out of the way in time. Luckily I've gotten very good at that.

[It's not like she can see his stomach, but there aren't any bullet scars there, because he's not an idiot. If he's going to get hit by a bullet he is going to do his very best to make sure it's somewhere like an arm, somewhere non-vital, something he can lose the use of for a little while while he's healing up.]

[shieldofrohan]

You have faced many foes so armed?

Then this place must be a welcome respite.

[And also she's a lot more admiring than she was thirty seconds ago. He may be old, but an old warrior is to be respected, especially one who has faced such dangerous weapons.]