Pumpkin Spiced Streets QTE - Harvenluna 2021
It was but a hop, skip, and a jump to get from the old abandoned hotel over towards the busy, lit up streets of Steam City. The sky above was mostly a drab black and orange, the stars completely invisible to the naked eye thanks to the large amount of light pollution the city created. But before the young rubasyn was a hodgepodge of colors. Decorations were affixed overhead, to buildings, or placed upon the streets themselves. Various Ptithians also decked up themselves, wearing all sorts of costumes on this special occasion. Of course there were mostly other rubasyns about, it was their homeland after all, but many other species had come too to attend the festivities. Music both spine-chilling and lively took turns playing at near booming volume, along with tunes of other kinds. Bonnie could hear it even over the abundant chatter around her.
She found herself frequently needing to excuse herself and apologize as she made her way through the crowded streets before approaching a grand stage set up just at the edge of the city, backdropped by the beach and the vast ocean. This was where the music was coming from it seemed. There were multiple Pthithians dancing about, nodding their heads to the beat. This included a dragon whose head lit up like a handheld blacklight; a stark contrast to his monochromatic pelt. And his horns, er… paws, were like the dark handles which held steadfast to those very lights. Another stranger Bonnie quickly took notice of in the crowd was a rubasyn like her. Though perhaps the more accurate term was acquaintance, for they too had gone ghost searching with her earlier with the koi-like Myr and the lindost Pap. Atlas his name was? If Bonnie recalled correctly that is… Yes, that sounded about right!
The brownie-colored rubasyn debated approaching him, but quickly was distracted by the table laden with sweets and treats of many kinds. There were caramel apples, pumpkin pies, candy in a rainbow of colors, amongst other things. Where do I even commence ingurgitation? She wondered to herself, a single claw tapping against her chin in thought. It was while she was gazing at the desserts that a couple of other party goers came near. They seemed like an odd pairing considering one was a lindost of all things, and the other looked to be a dragon/lefiká hybrid. It was clear they were close; they frequently shared food and even went as far as to feed the other by hand. The lindost seemed to do so only after their friend did, as if in the form of mimicry; to try out what Pthithians referred to as ‘sharing’.
“You gotta try this Bayou! It’s really, really good!” It was the forest-colored hybrid that had spoken, a large grin plastered upon his face as he held up an apple. The fruit was covered in a thick layer of caramel with pieces of nuts stuck in the yellow-brown goop. Honestly, to Bonnie it looked about as good as it probably tasted. Syren’s dark head tilted, the long tendrils dangling from their maw bobbing before they gently took the apple from their companion. Though as they did, they stopped suddenly and looked up, staring directly at her with their eyeless face. “I CaN teLL tHaT YOu’Re StARiNg aT Us yOu KnOw.” They said, their voice carrying a similar static sound to it, similar to the RingMaster’s. The rubasyn couldn’t help but be a bit embarrassed. She didn’t mean to. “Ah! Apologies, puissant visitant! I didn’t intend to be overly attentive to you and your confidante’s jollification. Seems that I had gotten a bit lost in my own cerebral activity!”
She ended her rambling with a hearty laugh, though the two strangers only looked questioning to her before turning to each other. Oops! Seems that I might’ve used jargon too involute for their understanding… Again… “What I mean to say is… that I meant not to stare and, and that I am sorry for doing so. I do hope you two enjoy the festivities!” It was a bit tricky to make sure she didn’t accidentally slip in anymore archaic terminology, but she managed. And after giving a proper, more understandable apology, she turned her attention back to the feast, walking a bit further down the table as she browsed. Making a choice was about as difficult as staying her tongue, and yet she eventually did make a selection. A berry tart. It would be a lie to say that she didn’t stuff extras away in her bag. So as to prevent a sticky mess, Bonnie wrapped them up in a napkin before storing them. She then slung her bag up over her shoulder, conversed among the masses for a little while longer, and finally headed on back towards the hotel.