TDM #10 - Wither and Bloom [First Edition]

[pumpkinhollow]

Pumpkin Hollow Gazette: Spring Issue

We ask that all toplevels include the age of the character (or at least a rough estimate) for TDM posts, to ensure that players both old and new can quickly make informed decisions about how to interact with a given character. We also ask that if someone lists a prompt as having an age preference, that it be respected. This is specifically for TDMs unless otherwise stated. Thank you!

Pumpkin Hollow Gazette

12/13/24 | TDM #10 - Wither and Bloom [First Edition]
Spring Pokémon Types - Grass, Fairy, Ground, Bug, Normal

WELCOME TO PUMPKIN HOLLOW

By Yorick Aberdeen

The crop for which the town is named.

Greetings, Hollowites, old and new! We are pleased to bring you yet another riveting issue of the Pumpkin Hollow Gazette. Or perhaps this is your very first one?

For nearly two years now, the mysterious ferryman has brought new and interesting faces across seas and stars and dimensional planes to reach our fair island. Since then, our community has grown larger and infinitely more interesting--- and we’re glad you’re joining us! Just in time for the weather to be just lovely.

This time of year tends to be a bit lighter on town-wide events due to this being a vitally busy time for our local agriculture industry, but we urge you to get involved with planting season and spend some time in nature. Who knows? You might even catch sight of our goddess of Land and Spring if you spend enough time among plants! Just don’t look into the trees--- they look back.

We invite you, as with all those who came before you, to enjoy your stay at the Oak & Iron tavern inn while you settle in. Please stop by Town Hall to discuss opportunities for work and more permanent housing! All newcomers get 100 Brass in their pocket upon arrival as well, so we encourage you to take advantage of this as well. Reach out to your neighbors for help if you need it, and don’t forget to pick up your copy of the Pumpkin Hollow Gazette whenever you need the local news!

SPRING WEATHER REPORT

By Phil Connors

The breeze will make your clothes smell great!

Start dusting those homes and beating those blankets! The days are getting longer, and with it, the winds are getting warmer. Spring is here! We’ll see some days that are still chilly and windy, but the more warm and temperate phases will get more common later in the season. We’re also entering the rainy period, meaning flowers are springing out of the ground and we’ll be seeing some very beautiful sunrises on misty mornings. Color is coming back to the isle, the frogs are in the rivers, and the insects and lambs are in the fields. It’s a good season to be outside.

Which means it’s also a good season to do laundry! Join us for our Community Laundry Day, where we all do our much-needed chores together and hang-dry our laundry in the warm and breezy weather! Join us on the green for some team washing. Water provided. Bring your own tubs, soap, and of course, clothes!

COMMUNITY EVENTS KEEP TOWN LIVELY ALL SPRING

By Timothy Stoker

The gazebo in town square, beside the festival green, is the place to be this season.

Legend has it that this time last year, a packed ferry arrived with a mass influx of offworlders, and an emergency potluck dinner was held to welcome the crowd. Now, this reporter wasn’t here just yet when that happened, but stories tell of a gathering of epic culinary proportions that heralded a new age of prosperity for Pumpkin Hollow. Sounds like something worth celebrating! Now that the weather has turned lovely once more (as elaborated on above by our own Phil Connors), the town has decided to celebrate the anniversary of the newly dubbed “Harbor Day” by revisiting that potluck idea. Drop by the Temple of Sacred Roots every other Friday from now until June to sample the cuisine of your new neighbors and local businesses. New residents need only bring themselves!

Also, in the spirit of spring cleaning, residents will also be selling or giving away their old items every weekend, weather permitting, in a series of mass yard sales. Some of our more modern residents supplied the term “yard crawl” for the event, which was deemed to be fitting. So come out on Saturday and Sunday mornings and afternoons to see what useful used items you can take off your neighbors’ hands! It’s a great way for new residents to decorate their new homes cheaply and get some new clothes.

And finally, on Wednesday evenings the Festival Green will be hosting “Swift Social” events (to be held in the Oak & Iron in the event of rain). A reimagining of last year’s popular charity speed dating event, this new Swift Social is expanded to include individuals seeking platonic relationships as well--- though that doesn’t mean romance is off the menu! The 10 Brass will be used to support the town’s medical community and the Autumn Leaves Dormitory House for Young Residents. So come out and make a friend or meet someone cute--- it’s for charity!

Fearsome Fae Antics Cause Town-Wide Trouble

By Melanie King

Up to no good, probably.

Things have been getting tricksy around town as, apparently, the fae population are staging the prank war to end all prank wars—or so local experts are telling us. If, like this reporter, you thought you were just having terrible luck with forgetting where you put things down or waking up with horrible bedhead, surprise! You've actually been caught in the crossfire of the fairies' games and may be entitled to financial compensation. (Not really. That's a joke.)

It looks like their antics are escalating significantly over time from harmless inconveniences to active dangers, so beware of any unusual sounds, behaviours or visual phenomenon you may encounter. Alluring or pleading voices from the woods, ghostly lights, critters acting oddly—if it's out of the ordinary, think twice. Or it might be the last time you think at all (at least, until tomorrow morning).

Fiendish Floral Figures Take Root Around Town

By Yorick Aberdeen

How eerie!

Spring is a time of year characterized by new life and by fresh floral blooms. It’s said that the land is Serranai’s canvas, and flowers are her paint. There is no debating that watching the Spring goddess’s artistry come to life in her season of power is an activity beloved by all! However, the Department of Supernatural Affairs is currently investigating some strangely behaved plant life.

While sightings have been somewhat rare, locals have been reporting eerie structures made out of flowering vines or woven flower stems that take the shape of hollowed out humanoid silhouettes. The poses seem to indicate motion and appear capable of springing to life at any moment, but the strange figures never seem to actually move --- at least, not that anyone has actually seen. However, many have cited that upon looking away from the figures and looking back, they appear to be closer. Those who have had direct contact with these floral armatures of people are also reporting some kind of ongoing allergic reaction from the encounter. Symptoms include severe shortness of breath, unpleasant itching that feels like it is coming from beneath the skin, and intense bouts of emotion which vary from person to person.

The Pumpkin Hollow Board of Safety is currently investigating long-term effects of contact with these beings and advises residents to avoid them. They seem highly resilient to fire, impact, and tearing, and while cutting with a sharp implement seems to have some success, it’s inadvisable to get close enough to the things to use such tools in the first place. Local alchemist Aeryn Sallek and local non-magical chemist Sally Boyle are currently working together to develop an herbicidal blend that is safe for human skin contact and potentially consumption to try and deal with the flowery menaces, which the Board of Safety has begun calling “Hanahilators”. But don’t let the name frighten you--- steering clear of these freaky floral followers should be a more than sufficient safety measure until the threat can be dealt with. Probably, anyway!

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Further Details...

Yard Crawl

Participate in the Yard Crawl as either a buyer, a seller, or both! When you take on a job in Pumpkin Hollow, you are supplied with permanent housing outside the Oak & Iron as part of your start-up kit, and most of them are full of old and worn furniture and clothes left behind when they were abandoned. Get rid of some of it or find something new at the Spring Yard Crawl! Plus, some of the native residents will also be selling or giving away their own old things.

Here’s how the Brass shakes out:

• Buyers can spend 50 Brass and get a haul of their choice of used or free clothing, furniture, or small decorative items. All of it will be of decent to low quality and relatively unremarkable design, so nothing extravagant. (Although a lone exciting knick knack could be considered passable!) Reminder that newcomers are given their first stipend of 100B upon arrival, so new characters are welcome to participate--- you’ll just need to mark that on your ledger if/when you app in. Ask for help if you have questions about this!


• Sellers can make 50B off of their participation but must make a toplevel. Only apped-in characters that are not Laggards can participate as a Seller.


• Those who are both buying and selling end up with a net zero of Brass, but all the aforementioned rules apply!


• Transactions related to the Yard Crawl can be applied to a character’s ledger three times --- once per month for the duration of this TDM!

Swift Social

Under the Swift Social toplevel posted from the mod account, join the fun by posting a starter with the provided code to create a profile card! Then comment on someone else’s starter with one of the following icebreaker questions to get started:

Which would be more surprising to see on your doorstep, a unicorn or a walrus?
If you could commit any crime with no consequences, what would it be?
If you were caught in a trap and the only way to escape from it with your life was to do something genuinely impressive, what would be your approach?
If you had to live on only one food for the rest of your life, what would you choose?
If you were held at knife point and instructed by your assailant that you must call someone on their sending stone, and if they do not answer, you die, who would you call?
Which would be most frightening to encounter in a dark alley: a ghost, an alien, or a horse?
If you could have any wish granted for you, no matter how big or small, what would it be? (Cannot ask for more wishes, that’s cheating!)
What’s a subject that you could confidently teach an hour-long class on with no preparation?
If you could instantly become an expert in any skill, what would you choose?
Make your own!

Be advised that you must post a comment with your profile card so that any Swift Social partners you have can reference it for your age and preferences.

Fae Pranks

It’s a fairy prank war! A few of the local fae courts are using Marrow Isle as their battle ground, since the demons made it trendy. They’re mostly out to prank each other--- but they’re also happy to practice their tricks on you! And fairies have some very odd ideas about boundaries when it comes to pranks. Here’s a few examples of some of the tricks you might encounter, ranging from silly to genuinely dangerous:

• A truly outrageous amounts of butterflies


• Sightings of Edwin the Headless Postman, a Dullahan (this is a played character that a mod will tag out with, please leave an OOC note if you’d like to opt out)


• Will-o-wisps that lead you in circles or into danger


• Fae dance parties that will have you dancing yourself to death!


• Missing objects


• Mysteriously spoiled milk


• Your hair got braided or extra tangled while you were asleep


• Weird sounds in Prague Mill after dark. Is it haunted?


• Strange women crying in the forest or by the Bluffs, but when you approach them to try and help, you find yourself suddenly in life-threatening danger!


• Create your own! Have fun with it, get spooky or goofy as you see fit.

Floral Fiends [cw: body horror, death]

Loosely inspired by the Hanahaki disease and the film Annihilation, Hanahilators are uncanny figures made out of flowers that move when they are not being watched. If they catch you, they will grab you, but seemingly have no interest in harming you as they will relent as soon as they’ve touched you.

However, once you have pollen on you, the effects begin to take hold, and flowers begin growing within your body, first in your lungs and then pushing into the rest of you. These parasitic blooms feed off of your strong emotions and are influenced by the emotions which define you. (Feel free to use the Victorian flower language to determine what kinds of flowers you get!) Once strong enough, the vines begin feeding on your body, destroying it and leaving behind a brand new Hanahilator. But don’t worry, you’ll be back to your old self tomorrow, so enjoy the opportunity to explore the island as a ghost! Apped in characters should remember to fill out a Death Certificate! It’s a relatively rare encounter, so don’t worry about running into one if you don’t want to.

Pokémon

Each season, new types of Pokémon can be found in nature around the island! They cannot be captured as the technology does not exist on Marrow Isle, but they can be befriended and kept as pets. Since there is no PC, each person can have no more than six. You can befriend any Pokémon whose primary type matches the list at the top of the newspaper. (Eevee can be caught in any season.) Legendaries are off limits for obvious reasons, and mythicals can be encountered for fun but not kept! Evolutionary stones can be found in Paradesium, the magical subterranean jungle beneath the mountain to the North. Every type will be available at some point throughout the year, so if you don’t have access to your fave yet, check back next season!

Comments

Ellen Ripley | 30 | Alien (1979) | Returning Player!

[2onostromo]

YARD CRAWL

It's about time Ellen decorates her lackluster little home. Three months have passed in a flash and she's acquired a whole lot of nothing to call her own, save for a pair of sneakers and an old cat. Clothes, of course, but they'd been provided for her as opposed to self-selected. Plain overalls and worker's boots are the closest she's felt to home. Home, what she'd once considered to be the planets and stations within Sol's orbit, the memories of which now half-obliterated by time.

Maybe this could be home. Amongst the fine, strange people who've set up their goods to sell.

But she's wary. Her brief run-in with Efrain leaves her scathed and unsure where reality ends and Hell begins.

What better place to start than tchotchkes?

Fellow shoppers will find Ripley inspecting each table single-handedly. Literally. Her opposite hand holds fast the fluffy bottom of the cat Wigglesworth, tucked safely inside her jacket. His head sticks out the top, swaying back and forward. He mrows an occasional protest, but otherwise looks quite content enjoying the spring air.

She, too, has something to offer. Rocks, crystals and geode chunks of all kinds. She might even be kind enough to give you one for free, if you make a good impression.

LAUNDRY DAY

It takes the better half of three hours to scrub the dirt and grime from her uniforms, and by the end of all she's beat. Mining is dirty work, and Ripley has come to terms with the fact she'll always sport smears of soot across her lapels and sleeves; that no amount of scrubbing will wash away the mire completely. Nitrate and fuel oil cling to her like perfume.

She carries her pile of clothes to hang. (Truth be told she's looking forward to collapsing in the grass afterwards).

Shouldering her way next to you, stripped down to a tank and shorts and enjoying the warm weather, she says, "You don't happen to have any extra clips, do you?"

WILDCARD!

Have something else in mind? Hit me! I'm down for anything.

yard crawl

[not_a_traitor]

Slowly -- very slowly -- Gaeta has been working on turning his apartment into a place that actually looks like, well. Like someone lives there. Even after a year on the island, and the scarce but strong connections he's made to his fellow off-worlders, actually thinking of Marrow Isle as home feels like pulling on clothes that don't fit. But if it's been a year, and there's next to nothing waiting for him back in his actual home...

He's trying. That's all.

So today, that means he's out tchotchke-shopping. The geodes catch his eye early on and pull him closer to Ripley's table. (He doesn't look quite the same as the person she met in their shared nightmares: he's more tired, with gray lacing his hair, and walks with both a cane and a noticeable limp.) A faint smile quirks his mouth as he studies how an amethyst catches the light. Then he looks up --

"Oh."

-- and realizes who's behind the table. Gaeta swallows, mouth dry. "...Hi."

[2onostromo]

There's something painfully familiar about the man who appraises her table, his wild mess of curls and stockiness prompting images half-obscured, as dreams so often are, by conscious memory. It isn't until he lifts his chin that image and memory click into place; this man, the culprit in one of many strange nightmares. He's changed— not the young man who'd pulled her from alien webbing. Black hair frosts over; a lieutenant's ramrod-straightness replaced by a tired bow and supported on-cane.

"...Hi stranger." Ripley straightens a little. Eyes him up and down with equal parts wariness and curiosity. "There isn't another one of you running around here, is there?"

At least— at the very, very least— she can be certain he's human instead of android. No reason for an android to go trotting around with a cane, after all. And even less a reason for one's hair to go gray.

[not_a_traitor]

It takes all of Gaeta's willpower not to flinch. He goes very, very still to compensate, grip tightening on his cane.

"No," he says evenly. "Just me."

A breath, and he falls back into a professionalism that echoes the lieutenant who walked Galactica's corridors: it's fine; it's fine. Grasping tight to normality, no matter how absurd, like someone drowning grasps a sliver of driftwood. "I, ah, think a proper introduction might be worthwhile." He offers a hand. "Felix Gaeta."

[2onostromo]

"Just you." She says tersely, disbelieving.

Really, she shouldn't be so unkind to him. His nightmare was just as much her own; a shared, unbidden plummeting through chrome corridors split down the seams, into alien nests dripping and slimy, neither of whom had any control over what monstrosities the other might find themselves. His fears, not so unlike her own.

What was the word he'd said? Cylon?

Like Synthetic.

"Ellen Ripley." She clasps his hand in her own and shakes it, tense still but trying. They share the same strangled, professional air. Roles regurgitated, useless without their ships to govern.

"Nice to meet you, Felix. Or do you prefer Gaeta?" She gestures to the chunk of rock he'd been holding, a half-smile coming to her face. "They're pretty, aren't they?"

[not_a_traitor]

Gaeta's mouth compresses at her disbelief. "Yeah," he says, more crisply, just on the verge of snappish. "Just me."

A brief and completely hysterical thought flits through his mind -- now watch another me step off the ferry tomorrow; watch me really be a Cylon after all -- before he squashes it flat. His handshake stays firm, professional. The consummate Fleet officer, like always.

"Either Gaeta or Felix is fine. Most of the people here call me Gaeta, though." He shrugs, shifting more weight to his cane as he follows her gesture back toward the gems. His tiny, almost unwilling smile comes back. "They're... yeah, they are. I don't know nearly enough about planetary geology to say more than that, but it's fascinating something like that can be produced naturally."

[2onostromo]

Just me.

"Great. It had better stay that way."

Impossible to tell what's what here, aside from the usual hinderances of advanced technology, not to mention magic.

She'd like to think— as would most humans with intimate knowledge of the living world— that she could tell the difference between man and machine with ease. Of course she could, couldn't she? No amount of synthetic fibers or gesticulating facial mechanisms could imitate true humanism. There had been whispers among the company of 'experimental technology'; never did she consider this technology might extend as far as total imitation.

She'd like to think this.

And then she'd met one such imitation.

It seems that so has he.

"Gaeta." Ripley nods, ticking off a box in her mind.

To no one's surprise, her rocks ease up the tension. Easier on the eyes and pallet than human-synthetic horror. She leans forward on her elbows, appraising a cluster of green crystal like it were a prized show animal. She, too, brightens up a little.

"Isn't it? I've seen plenty of mining planets and all the ore you can think of, but half the stuff on this table are concentrates I've never heard before, let alone seen in any scientific journal or planetary reading. This one—" she picks up an opaque, yellow stone, "—turns black when it touches water. Then the water turns orange and the whole concoction starts to get hot. The granite-looking one over there splits in perfect lines. Not once or often— but every time you cut it."

Can you tell she likes rocks?

[not_a_traitor]

It had better stay that way. As if it's his fault he had a frakked-up dream about --

Gaeta makes himself take a deep breath and shove the nascent anger deeper. It was pretty godsdamn clear from their respective dreams that she has her own issues with Cylon-like intelligences. Maybe Gaeta wouldn't be so blunt as that, but he can't exactly blame her for saying something he's thinking, too.

...Also, yeah, it's super obvious she likes rocks and he is more than willing to seize on the topic change. With another breath, he lets himself relax into a bit more of a smile.

"That's incredible," he murmurs, peering closer at the granite. "It's got to be something about the structure, but to have it break so cleanly no matter what size?" He glances up. "Does the type of impact matter at all, too? Same break lines with a chisel as a sledgehammer?"

[2onostromo]

"Same lines, I tested it. Hammer, pickaxe, chisel, shovel— even itself. Of course, you've got to hit it with the appropriate amount of force for it to break. Dropping it doesn't do any good, either. It makes me wonder if anyone's bothered keeping track of this stuff. In writing or— anything. I haven't done my due diligence in the library— so maybe they have. We mine for coal and metal and leave this stuff behind. Maybe it could be used for something."

Really, she ought to take the time off to get some reading done.

Ripley plucks up the granite chunk, observing it against afternoon light. Grooves run in perfect lines beneath its surface. "Or maybe they're leaving it alone for good reason. Could all be junk. Could be dangerous. Not this one, but others."

She sets it down. Wraps fingers around something solid, dense— this time a rust-colored piece of stone—

"There are channels under Crane's Ridge barred from access. No one knows what's hiding there. And if they do, they don't say shit about it."

—And with force, smashes it down against the granite slab. One piece turns into a perfect twin-pair.

Ripley quirks a grin. "See?"

[not_a_traitor]

Gaeta lets out a low, impressed whistle. As he picks up one of the neatly-split granite chunks, a scientist's curiosity lights his eyes.

"Maybe magic plays a role in it, too." He huffs, a bit self-deprecating. "I can't believe I'm saying that, but I've been here long enough... magic may as well be a force like any other. One we just don't have where I'm from." Gaeta gives the rock a little toss to turn it over in his palm. "I've been wondering what makes one material more prone to magic absorption than another, or why certain objects conduct it better. I've learned a little, but not at any serious depth yet. Granite like this, maybe it's bonded with the stone to allow it to split so cleanly no matter what."

He looks up at Ripley. "I could see if there's anything in the library. I work there, so..."

It's something of an olive branch.

[2onostromo]

It's an olive branch she's happy to take.

"I'd appreciate that. I've been trying to convince myself that I'm not as dumb as I sometimes feel. When you come from a world without all this—" a sweeping gesture she makes to the Green at large, with its mass of tables and people and ever-expansive peculiarities, "—knowing where to start is a real pain in the ass."

An egregious understatement, really. It's like she's planted ass-first into a kindergarten seat.

"If you ever want to lecture about your findings, you've got an audience here. I've got a lot to learn. And luckily, I like learning. Oh—"

Ripley picks up the purple geode he's taken a liking to and offers it; a sparkly olive branch of her very own.

"Here, have it. You don't need to pay me anything. Consider it a 'thank you'."

[not_a_traitor]

"Oh -- " Clearly surprised, but undeniably pleased, Gaeta accepts the geode. "If you're sure... thank you."

For a beat, he just studies how it catches the light. Presses the pad of his thumb against one of the pointier formations.

And then, not entirely sure why he's telling her in the first place, Gaeta says, "The first real friend I made here hated gifts. Lieutenant Tayrey. Her civilization had a core tenet where you'd never accept anything for free; it had to be fair trade. Fair contract. I even had to work out a trade with her just so she'd feel comfortable taking out books from the library. I didn't understand it at first, I'm still not sure I do, but."

A quiet sigh.

"She was a spacer too. And military. Her being here, it made the transition a little easier. And when she left after a couple months..." He shakes his head. "I think it knocked my feet out from under me more than I realized. For a while we were some of the only people here who understood what it was like to live in space."

He meets Ripley's eye again. "I'm glad there's more of us now."

[2onostromo]

She's handed what feels like a rarity. Transparency touched by melancholy; one she feels she has not yet earned. A friend no longer present, and the emptiness that friend's leaving carves out in the man's chest, now exposed for her to see. Ripley listens carefully. Trains her eyes on Gaeta's face and takes in his every word. He deserves that much.

"A spacer. Is that what we're called around here? I wouldn't have thought to categorize us any differently. You learn fast that not everyone's got years of space travel under their belt."

Some days it's impossible to think of this place as home. Most days she mourns those few places she could call home. None of it salvageable. Here, she's floating. Inert.

...A little less-so now that she's made a new acquaintance.

And despite that sinking dread of belonging nowhere— so dissimilar to the kind of nowhere one experiences in space— Ripley smiles, soft around otherwise sharped edges, determined most of all. "Likewise. And— thank you. For helping me in the— ah, you know. You could have walked right past me, but you didn't. I won't forget that."

[not_a_traitor]

Gaeta huffs a tiny laugh. "It's what she called us," he says. "It sort of stuck. Not so much to differentiate us, more so we could... find each other, I guess. Useful shorthand, you know?"

He tucks the geode into his satchel.

"And you're welcome. I try not to -- well." Extremely wry now: "Behave like I did when we were both on my own ship. Not anymore. It's a recurring nightmare for a reason. I'm sorry you were pulled into it."

[2onostromo]

"Very useful."

Gaeta's wryness coaxes a playfulness from her that simply hadn't been present before. Tensions high, nightmares echoing in the back corners of each person's mind— there was no room for it. It isn't Gaeta who'd brought a Synthetic into her dream, she reminds herself. He's like you. Like many of the Spacers.

Something lifts in her.

"Glad to know someone pulled the stick out of your ass. Don't mention it. You couldn't control who came in or how it happened. Neither could I— and still I wish you hadn't had to see that, so I get it."

Then, teetering on the edge of should and should not, she says, "And, ah, if you ever want to... Talk... about any of that, I'm happy to listen. I have a feeling I'll know exactly what you mean. Just an offer."

[not_a_traitor]

The laugh, this time, is much closer to a snort -- and much louder. She sounds like three-quarters of Galactica's crew right then; only a mutiny managed to shake Gaeta's reputation as an uptight rules-and-regs lawyer. Ripley doesn't need to know (yet) that's what finally dislodged the aforementioned stick.

The rest, though...

One corner of his mouth lifts, though it's not quite a smile. "You might have to get a few drinks in me first," he says. "But... maybe. Yeah. I suspect we've got more than space travel in common, too. And in the meantime -- "

His smile straightens out as he pats his satchel. "Thanks for the rock."