rekindleme | A Festival of Lights

A Festival of Lights

Who: Everyone
Where: The stable areas of Saeng Seong - mostly in the third district
When: 24th July to 31st July
Summary: The residents of Saeng Seong are celebrating their annual summer festival, and the offworlders are invited to take part!
Warnings: Inbox death may occur. System overload at own risk. SOME NPC RESPONSES WILL BE SLOW UNTIL THE ONE WHO PLAYS THEM IS PRESENT.

It's time to celebrate, to celebrate, to celebrate...

There's been a general sense of excitement among the natives of Saeng Seong for the past week or so, now; anyone who's stopped to question them about it (or has been close enough to hear them discussing it amongst themselves) will hear mentions of "the festival." On the 24th, what they're talking about becomes clear.

Each year, the residents of the city come together to celebrate the summer. Setting the festival up is an all-day affair; taking part in the festival's events will make for an entertaining week; and tearing down the booths and decorations is another extensive process. But in the end, the residents usually agree that it's worth it, and this year they would like for their would-be saviors to take part.

July 24th
On the 24th, the characters will notice that most of the city natives are moving about with a general purpose; they will find that in the Second District, in the very plaza where they all arrived, a committee of sorts is organizing volunteers and assigning them to different tasks in different parts of the open districts.

The committee needs people to help with preparing and placing decorations all over the city; paper lanterns, twinkling strands of lights, and garlands of flowers, though they'll note that the flora is fake. They also need people to set up tables, chairs, and makeshift stages at the riverbanks in the first and second districts, as well as to help redo the outdoor marketplace to make it more accommodating for booths hosting festival foods, games, and trinkets for purchase. Physically stronger characters may be asked to assist with setting up carnival rides in the free spaces - everything from a towering Ferris wheel to a carousel to bumper cars, and many others besides.

During this time, characters can also volunteer to man the booths on certain days, if they have anything they would like to contribute or would like to assist with anything.

Characters who take part in the setup will be awarded with five vouchers, good for use during the festival. These vouchers can be used for the purchase of food, admittance to rides, or to allow them to play some of the games for free.

July 25th
The festival begins early morning on the 25th - that is, the booths are open and ready for business, selling all manner of street food - crepes, kabobs, funnel cake, shaved ice, almost anything you can imagine - along with a wide variety of other things for purchase, like one-of-a-kind clothing, hats, scarves, and the like, as well as jewelry and other trinkets. There are also booths where you can get your face painted, where you can have your fortune told, and all sorts of other activities.

There are also the games. Standard festival stuff: Knock down a milk bottle, win a prize. Throw a dart and pop the right balloon, get a prize. You can play a game to catch and take home a goldfish, if you like, or try your luck at any of the other games that are interspersed with the other booths.

These booths will be operating all throughout the festival, until the closing ceremony on the 30th.

The opening ceremony doesn't actually take place until sunset, despite the fact that the booths have been operating all day. It's a simple ceremony, set at the riverside, with a speech about how summertime begets togetherness and how everyone should be thankful for the opportunities they've been given. All in all, it may be a little boring for characters with shorter attention spans. However, at the end of it, everyone lights a candle, makes a wish, and sets it adrift on the river once the sun has gone down entirely; the flickering candles will drift around the river all throughout the festival, and they never seem to burn down.

July 26th
The rides and games are going on full-force outside from the time the sun comes up, but in the afternoon characters will find that it's not as crowded as the day before. That's because there's dancing going on in the convention center - the afternoon is full of traditional group dances, the kind that are easy to learn the steps for and join in on; the natives will be especially delighted if their visitors teach them some of the dances from their home.

In the evening, it is not quite so energetic, though the dancing doesn't end. The songs slowly fade into slower, perhaps more romantic tunes, and the final dance will end precisely at midnight.

There will be refreshments available for free in the convention center during the dances, though not anything so filling as what characters will be able to purchase from the booths outside - mostly water, lemonade, cheese, and crackers. There is also a bar where specialty drinks and foods may be purchased.

July 27th
This day's special event happens after dark, though it's easy to see the preparations for it happening in the plaza where all the characters arrived - when the sun sets, a massive bonfire is lit, and many people gather, some with benches, to bask in the firelight. Some even write down the things they'd like to accomplish during the rest of the year onto slips of paper and cast them into the flames, in the hopes that the smoke will carry their wishes into the heavens.

Others gather around to toast s'mores and chat. Still others continue the dancing from the night before - off to the side to begin with, though as the night wears on they may expand into a bigger dance that will involve large groups of people circling around the fire in spirals.

Even away from the plaza, there are blazing lanterns throughout the city, and some smaller bonfires crop up in areas where it's not likely that anything important will catch fire.

July 28th
This day's festivities begin early on. The morning and early afternoon are devoted to a cooking contest - there are categories for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and dessert, and a winner for each - that both residents and visitors alike can take part in. Characters who cook delicacies from their own worlds may find the natives crowding them and asking for information about the dishes, and recipes to try on their own.

The late afternoon also has to do with food, and the characters are once again invited to take part in a variety of eating contests. There are your standard hot dog, watermelon, and pie-eating contests, as well as many others - the more daring may find themselves taking part in a contest where contestants are blindfolded and made to eat as much of rather... interesting concoctions as they can.

Characters who take part are given a voucher for use at any of the booths or rides in the festival; winners are given additional prizes. The winners of the cooking contest are determined ICly by character vote, so if there's a dish they especially love, make sure to mention that they'd vote for it so a tally can be kept! Winners of the eating contests are determined by RNG after all participants have been confirmed, with characters that have a canonical advantage (IE Maya Fey and her "separate stomachs") having more than one number that would lead to their win. Be sure to note such advantages while having your character take part.

July 29th
The extra activities on this day include showing off your physical prowess and your ability to cooperate with others.

On foot, there are three-legged races; pick a partner and try not to fall as you make your way to the finish line! There are also relay races - in teams of four - and you'll want to pick your teammates' positions well to ensure maximum speed. These races will take place multiple times during the day.

There are some other events to take part in as well: Thumb-wrestling tournaments, arm-wrestling tournaments, and outright wrestling tournaments.

At the end of the day, there will be a massive tug-of-war. Everyone who's mingling around and wants to take part will be sorted into one team or another, and then the two teams will face off.

Participants will receive festival vouchers; winners will receive additional prizes.

July 30th
The last day of the festival continues on like normal - the rides and booths are all operating, at least until the start of the closing ceremony that begins midafternoon and continues until the sun goes down. Winners of the various contests are once again recognized, the people who made the events a success are thanked, and the speech ends with a wish for pleasant experiences throughout the rest of the year.

The ceremony is timed such that there will be about twenty minutes for everyone to position themselves where they would like to be by the time fireworks begin being set off from a barge floating on the river between the second and third districts. There will be spaces on the riverbanks for people to watch from, though they can most certainly be seen from any other vantage point a character might like to try watching from, should they want to avoid the crowds.

July 31st
This day is a blur of activity as well, though not as fun as the past few days. The residents of the city are packing everything away and taking down the decorations, and they could use a little help if the characters are so inclined.

Characters who assist with the teardown will be rewarded with leftovers from the festival - plush prizes, food, maybe even some little trinkets characters have had their eyes on that haven't sold. No one's getting any fireworks, however.

Feel free to put up your own top-level comments, but be sure to put when and where the action is happening in the subject line!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Well slag, that's not the topic Wing hoped would get dropped.

It's just his luck, Deadlock gets interested at the worst possible of times. This is a disaster waiting to happy with his pride as the victim. Not that Wing has any shame for his aspirations: seeing Deadlock in a happier place and doing it in a kinder way than before. No, it's more the context in the little scribbles really. Lovesick infatuation? Not a thing a Decepticon is likely to be impressed by right? It's probably considered weak or foolish or something similarly disheartening.

It's better to just skip that little bit of embarrassment for the them both. Trust him Deadlock, he's doing both mechs a favor by pitching the little wad of paper into the fire. Or trying to anyway.

"It's nothing," Wing repeats as he pulls his arm back before Deadlock can reach for it, like that makes it more true or something, "_{...just a dream.}" And pitches it towards the fire.

What? Now Deadlock's not supposed to be interested? He isn't great with people skills, but he can sure recognize someone trying too hard to throw him off the scent.

"Awfully secretive about it." And then Wing throws it. Wing might think he knows everything, but he doesn't know the reflexes that have kept Deadlock alive in hundreds of battles. He can dodge bullets. He can also launch himself upward, to catch little bits of paper. He crows, holding it, crumpled, in his hand. "What kind of dream you just gonna throw away like this?"

Interest is good! Just when Wing is in control and command of himself. Not...right now, when he's confused and homesick and lonely and way more vulnerable than he wants to admit.

He is also not exactly the best at being subtly secretive. Or lying. Or both. Wing is wishing he was though, when he sees Deadlock reach out and snatch the wad of paper out of the air. The jet makes an angry chirp of protest and the look he turns on Deadlock is something between horrified and scathing. "Why does it matter to you!?"

Wing's better judgement, the wise part of him that usually speaks up and saves him from himself, is a distant muffled voice in the back of his mind saying that he should just explain things and not make a big deal out of it. Since the more concern he shows the more it just encourages Deadlock.

Buuuut Wing is not exactly in his brightest mindset right now. So he does the first thing that comes to mind: launching himself at Deadlock and reaching for the closed fist. Yeah this'll end well.

"Because it matters to you," Deadlock blurts, not realizing until the words leave his vocalizer that that statement may...imply things. Like that he cares about Wing. At all.

And he smirks at the little protesting chirp--fraggin' jets and their weird noises. But before he can properly smirk in triumph, the jet launches at him. He remembers this all too well from Crystal City, but maybe he's learned a thing or two, and he spins to the side to roll Wing off balance, and, with luck, flip him over to land on top.

There's something in Deadlock's response that strikes Wing as weird. Unexpected. He wants to contemplate it more but it's low priority as he sails through the air, trying to land in a grapple and pry those fingers open. Except nope, he's still not thinking properly, his head is not in this game at all and Deadlock takes advantage of the opening.

Wing doesn't even know what's happened really until he feels the pavement at his back and...oh. OH. That's Deadlock's weight on top of him. A hard shudder ripples through his frame--matching a similar ripple through his field--and he stares, stunned, lips parted as he drags a breath through his cooling system.

Yeah, well, Deadlock's going to go the route of denial about what he said. It meant...uh, nothing.

It's the instinct of having had to groundfight his way to respect in the Decepticons. So he's straddling the jet's hips before he can consciously process it.

Until he can, and he realizes that his inner thighs are sliding over the sleek skirting panels that had squirmed so tantalizingly close to him last night at the dance. And his free hand's caught the jet's wrist, pinning it over his head, bringing their bodies close enough together that he can feel the soft fuzz of the jet's erratic EM field.

The smirk falters a bit, but he doesn't lose his grip on the scrap of paper.

Wing's seen this before, Deadlock looming over him, so close he could almost see the scratches and spiderweb cracks in the red optic glass. It was in his fantasies as recently as last night in fact. And his imagination readily supplies them again here, arousal coiling in his belly, a hot thing that makes his fingers flex around emptiness and his fans spin harder.

He freezes, pushing down the urge to twist his hips and bump his pelvic plating against Deadlock's. The effort makes him shudder again, a soft whine from his nacelles and his hard grip on Deadlock's arm--the one securing the paper--shifting loose. There's no thought anymore, just the moment and how it's caught them, tangled them together, and Wing tips his face up in invitation, drawn upwards, not to struggle free but to tangle them further together.

And suddenly, Deadlock forgets for a moment all about the paper. Even though this wasn't about the paper, as much as riling Wing.

Well, Wing's....riled now. Deadlock can feel the air of the fans against his chassis, the way the jet squirms under him which isn't--quite--trying to escape. He feels something thrum in his belly, a wriggling, coiled thing that makes his vision all shimmery, his head swim like engex. His own air huffs from his mouth, looking don at the half-puzzled, half-...something else on Wing's face, and then, before he even knows what he's doing, his mouth meets the jet's lip plates, his main engine rumbling, vibrating the air between them.

He doesn't know how this is happened--just a while ago he was feeling downtrodden and having a silly argument just to save face. Now he's in liplock with the object of his desire and he's not sure what he did to make it happen.

But right now that is the least of his concerns. Right now he's floating in a fuzzy state of half reality, tingly like the feel Deadlock's lip plates against his, not entirely feeling real but desperate to be.

Finally Wing reaches past the stunned impossibility of this and moves against Deadlock's mouth, tilting for more, both offering and asking in the needy way his mouth plates slide against the other's. His arms aren't free, which is probably safer for Deadlock since it prevents the dreaded hugging response. Instead it's like his whole body reacts, curling in a wave driven by the stirring pressure within him, arching up for more contact, wanting to feel that engine vibrating against him, his chassis nosecone sliding against Deadlock's chest plating.

Wing has at least more of a handle on things than Deadlock does, who is still so far in denial about the fact that he has any feelings beyond 'headbutt of rage' that he has no idea why he's kissing Wing or even that he's kissing Wing...until he's doing it.

And until Wing is shifting under him, pressing up into his weight, the mouth parting under his. He's almost stunned, for a long moment, feeling the silk of the jet's lip plates against his, tasting the sweetness of the jet's mouth. His engine does rev, wild, aroused and confused, his hands gripping at the white wrists as though clinging for his life.

And then, just as abruptly, he tears his mouth away, still warm and tingling from the kiss, unable to settle on an expression. "...the frag was that?" Because, well, frag if he knows.

Given a choice, Wing would prefer to have even more of a handle on things than he has now, like his hands on Deadlock's body, exploring same as his mouth wants to... but then he'd be getting ahead of himself, not here in the present where he's being so spontaneously kissed.

He makes a noise into it, something like the sound of thirst temporarily quenched. The tight grip on his wrists, just enough to edge into pain, mingles with the sensation of the kiss gives it a sweet sharpness that thrills him. The hot rev of the heavy grounder engine against him makes his own arousal flare, but before he can deepen the kiss suddenly it's done and Deadlock's pulled away, asking that confused question.

Wing is equally confused for it seems obvious to him. If he had more of his wits about him (and his core temperature were lower), he say the right thing here, the perfect thing to get him more of the same, something like 'I've been wanting to do for a long time' or simply, 'I want you.'

Unfortunately he's a little too stunned for that, his suave charm out of reach for the moment. So of course, what's the first thing out of his mouth, but the obvious?

"...a kiss," he offers as a question, his voice breathless and confused, "Y-you didn't like it?"

Either of the more suave answers would probably just have confused Deadlock more. Or convince him this was some sneaky trick by the jet he'd fallen into. At least this way, the only thing he can blame is himself.

Well, and this place.

His face is still restless, torn between trying to play this off as some sort of joke and a scowl, simply because it's the most familiar. He knows what a kiss is, though, in theory. That...was something else.

"Doesn't matter if I like it or not." Which is possibly the stupidest thing anyone has ever said about kisses, but it's said fast, like a reflex, hiding the too-obvious fact that yes, he did enjoy it. A lot.

It feels like he's on the precipice of something, the way Deadlock's face moves with uncertainty. That the right or wrong move could tip this in the jet's favor or against. It makes Wing uncertain, his usual confidence in these matters out of reach. Deadlock had that effect on him: he's different, unexpected, upseting the calm balance of things in Wing's life.

And that's what thrills him. 'Something else' it was indeed.

"Of course it matters," The words are soft but still bear the weight of conviction. Gently he offers, "I...won't return the favor, if you didn't."

He tries one of his characteristic snorts, and fails. Because he could sense--this close against him, their EM fields tangling together--the jet's sincerity, and that sends a strange tremor through his own field, uncertain and new.

His hands shift on the wrists, optics blinking down at the upturned face. "Favor? What fraggin' favor?" Because Wing didn't mean that he'd....liked it?

He gets a sense, that like this, with Deadlock in control and able to escape at any time, it's better than if Wing had tried to pin him down and express himself in no uncertain terms.

It's still hard to concentrate with Deadlock so tantalizingly close, hard not to want to reach out in every way and pull the mech down to him, to let their fields mesh and limbs tangle. His fingers flex slowly, as if reminding them both that he's restrained but not bothering to free himself in the least.

Wing smiles, but not the kind of smile he gives to strangers or even friends. A bit shy maybe, a little coy, a touch uncertain but defiantly interested. "You kissed me. I...want to kiss you back." It's hard, exceptionally hard, not to punctuate that statement with a hip wiggle.

Better may be a matter of perspective. Deadlock would be less confused if Wing was holding him down.

Deadlock feels the way the jet's fingers move under his grip, the actuators firing, fingertips flexing. He doesn't know what he wants--whether the squirmy wiggly feeling in his belly is good or bad.

Except he does, especially in the light of the smile Wing shines up at him. His brow furrows, as though he's feeling his way along some unfamiliar and slippery edge. "....suppose it would be fair." Right? Fairness, not whether he wants it or not.

But would he enjoy it less, that's what Wing wonders.

Clearly additional exploration of the phenomena is required to help Deadlock make his decision. Surely squirmy and wiggly things can't be a real threat against one like Deadlock?

"If it's what you want." All is fair in love and war? "Or you can kiss me again, if you prefer."

As kind as the words and the cadence is, there's a husky quality to Wing's voice that says they're both talking way too much. The heat, the tingle behind his interface panel agrees, making him squirm, his field soft and receptive against Deadlock's. "_...please?"

Grah it is not about what Deadlock prefers. He's not used to having choice and preference and all that fancy rich-bot stuff.

And the squirmy feeling in his tank--did he have some sort of freaky weird parasite?--is building, like a kind of tingling pressure. He gives a sudden huff of air, as though frustrated. He is frustrated, tired of not knowing what's going on, even within himself.

But the huff fades to a sort of possessive purr, because he does have Wing pinned, at least, and he does have--kind of--a sort of advantage over him. And the word 'please' seems to pang a chord through his EM field, and his mouth lowers, less fierce than last time, onto the jet's.

Consider this Wing's first gift then: choice. Something he would have offered more of from the start if it'd been possible. And he'll be happy to wall you later Deadlock, when he knows neither will regret the consequences.

It's tense, that moment while Deadlock decides, and it feels like an eternity as the need slowly builds in him. Wing is afraid it's over with that huff, but then it changes, the purr stirring loose the tight knot of desire within him. It unfurls into the kiss, for it's not a sudden thing this time: a bit of anticipation building as Deadlock lowers to meet him, the gold of the jet's optics dimming as they shutter above slightly parted lip plates.

Wing has an ardent love of kissing, something Deadlock is just now getting a notion of. It's not just a stop on the way to interfacing, it's a unique and intimate manner of expression that words could never compete with: desire, affection, even respect and admiration, all formed into the shape of pleasure between two mouths. That's the message on Wing's lips as they brush across Deadlock's; sweet, encouraging and eager.

He's kissing Wing, but his chassis is still restless, short almost-pants of air from his vents. Because it's too much all at once for him, too much choice, too much openness, and Wing's mouth opening under his is like something deep and sweet he's almost afraid of falling into.

No, not almost. He is afraid.

He pushes back, abruptly, optics flaring, almost betrayed, the purr fading into a growl. "Kind of trick was that?"

It's bliss for a moment. Better than his imaginings, the fluttering rise in his own chassis lifting him up even if his body is actually still pinned to the ground under Deadlock.

But then it's over again, Wing loosing a small sound of dismay into the sudden empty air where their mouths had been, chasing the kiss until he no longer can, pushing against Deadlock's weight. Golds optics widen in confusion, the fluttering losing its wings as he looks into the red optics and what he sees there. He's not even sure what it is but it makes something in side him shrink a little.

"_...trick?" Wing finally gets out, a little breathless from the kiss, "N-no trick."

Wing might call it bliss; Deadlock doesn't know what to call it. It's exciting and warm and tingling and a little out of control, like that excitement before a battle, only sweeter.

He's not used to it.

So his mouth twitches, even as his glossa tastes the last of the kiss. "Right." He doesn't believe you, Wing. He flounders for a moment, remembering how they got in that position in the first place. "Diversion." He reaches for the scrap of paper, still in the jet's hand.

There's a part of him that feels the sting of offense at being doubted. But likely he set the trend earlier, when he was unwilling to admit the truth for fear of it being discarded as unwanted. And really, later when he has a chance to be honest with himself, he'll realize being unwanted is what he fears. Not physically, but period. Being discarded, alone.

He's not in a contemplative mood though. No, he's rolling in high emotion now, passion's heat flickering into something else at what sounds like an accusation. "D-Diversion!" he huffs, "But, you kissed me first!"

He's too busy being huffy and squirming, trying to free his hands, pelvic span bumping against Deadlock's, to react immediately to the grounder's grab at the paper. Oops. He could have played that better, most likely.

"Because you tricked me!" He's drawing about him all the Huff that confusion and the niggling notion that, no, really, this isn't Wing's fault, can provide.

His mouth still tingles with the kiss, and the way the jet's frame bumps up against his hips doesn't really help, so his grip on the scrap of paper falters for a klik.

"Tricked you?! ...h-how?" Wing's confusion is clear because he sees no deception in this, his interest is genuine, but that means at least half of this is his fault really. Deadlock may have started it but the jet kissed back, avidly so, and if asked about regrets he'd have none.

Except maybe the fact that he's not being kissed anymore.

Wing takes advantage of that faltering moment, trying not to think of how Deadlock is riding over his pelvic frame, twisting his wrist from the other's grip and reversing their situation, hand closing around the Decepticon's wrist and trying to reach of the paper.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

sorry if rough I"m kickstarting myself here. x_x

<3 You know I'll always love your tags no matter what!