#Wild Goose Festival

[firstumcschenectady]

“The Tower” based on Deuteronomy 29:10-15 John 11:28-44

Last Summer Diana Butler Bass gave a sermon at the Wild Goose Festival that was shared and forwarded to me approximately 100 times, which was good because that's how many times it took for me to read it. And once I read it, I participated in the sharing and forwarding too. Her sermon was entitled “All the Marys”1 and it shared one of the biggest breakthroughs in Biblical Scholarship in generations.

Which, I know, is THE SINGLE MOST EXCITING THING I COULD EVER SAY! Or, perhaps, maybe, it might not be?

Stick with me.

It's worth it. This is a case where a huge break through in Biblical scholarship has pretty big implications for those of us who follow Jesus. I'm well aware they aren't all like that.

What I find interesting is that I've now read her sermon several times over the course of 10 months, and I can't seem to retain it. The implications are actually so big and require such an enormous re-framing of how I understand the early Christian story, that my brain keeps erasing it in favor of the familiar.

If you have spent less time in Gospel commentaries and/or seminary than I have, I suspect you are going to find it easier to accept these very simple truths than I do. Which is great! This is really awesome stuff, and I'd love for people to hear it, know it, and even retain it.

Diana Butler Bass tells the story of Elizabeth (Libbie) Schrader who felt moved to study Mary Magdalene, landed at General Theological Seminary in New York to work on a Masters of New Testament, and wrote her final paper on John 11. Her professor encouraged her to look at the newly digitized version of the oldest known text of John, Papyrus 66, from around 200 CE, and find something new in it.

I'm going to quote Diana Butler Bass here:

And so Libbie is in the library looking at the text and she sees this first sentence. And it’s in Greek, of course. “Now a certain man was ill, Lazarus of Bethany, the village of Mary and his sister Mary.” And Libbie said, “What? That’s not what my English Bible says. My English Bible says, ‘Now a certain man was ill, Lazarus of Bethany, the village of Mary and her sister, Martha.’” But the Greek text, the oldest Greek text in the world doesn’t say that. The oldest Greek text in the world says, “Now a certain man was ill, Lazarus of Bethany, at the village of Mary and his sister, Mary.” There are two Marys in this verse. And Libbie went, “What the heck? What is going on here?” And she started digging into the text, zooming in on it to try to see what she could see over the digitized version in the internet. And lo and behold, Libbie noticed something that no New Testament scholar had ever noticed.

And that is, in the text where it had those two Marys, the village of Mary and his sister, Mary, and her sister, Mary, the text had actually been changed. In Greek, the word Mary, the name Mary, is basically spelled like Maria in English, M-A-R-I-A. And the I, the Greek letter I, is the letter Iota. And it looks basically like an English I. Libbie could see by doing this textual analysis that the Iota had been changed to the letter TH in Greek, Theta. That somebody at some point in time had gone in over the original handwriting and actually changed the second Mary to Martha. And not only had that person changed the second Mary to Martha, but that person had also changed the way it comes out in English. It says, “The village of Mary,” that would’ve stayed the same, “and her sister, Martha.” Someone had also changed that “his” to “her”; that “her” was originally a “his,” but they had changed it to a “her.”

Admittedly, the original text is a confused and not very good sentence. “Now, a certain man was ill, Lazarus of Bethany, at the village of Mary and his sister, Mary,” it’s almost like they’re heightening the fact that Lazarus has this sister, Mary. They lived in this village together, and Mary is Lazarus’ sister. Someone had changed it to read, “Mary and her sister, Martha.”

Libbie sat in the library with all of this, and it came thundering at her, the realization that sometime in the fourth century, someone had altered the oldest text of the Gospel of John and split the character Mary into two. Mary became Mary and Martha.

She went through the whole manuscript of John 11 and John 12, and lo and behold, that editor had gone in at every single place and changed every moment that you read Martha in English, it originally said, “Mary.” The editor changed it all.

Now, that's a pretty big deal, but I imagine that maybe you don't... umm... I think the words might be “Care that much.” But let me say, “yet.” I haven't gotten to the part where this MATTERS yet, that was a really important BACKGROUND. It also makes John 11 as we know it really hard to read and make sense of. But that's OK too.

So the underlying question in this is “why?” Why would someone go through so much trouble to create the character Martha out of what was once Mary? The key may be in the part of John 11 we read last week,

25Jesus said, “I am the resurrection, and the life: the one that believes in me, though they may die, yet shall they live; 26and the one who lives and believes in me shall never die. Do you believe this?” 27She said to him, “Yes, Lord: I have believed that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one that comes into the world.

In the Bibles I have that “she” appears to be Martha but if she doesn't exist, then the she is Mary. And now we're getting to it. Christianity has long claimed that the first declaration that Jesus was the Messiah comes from Peter, the Rock, who is presented as having done so in Mark, Matthew, and Luke (the “Synoptics”) and that answer kinda worked because Martha was a pretty minor character and even though she says so in John, it is easy enough to ignore because Peter is THE ROCK, and Martha is... well, kinda a nobody.

Back to Diana Bulter Bass:

But if it is Mary, the Mary who shows up in John 11 is not an unremembered Mary... This Mary has long been suspected of being the other Mary, Mary Magdalene. Is it really true that the other Christological confession of the New Testament comes from of the voice of Mary Magdalene? That the Gospel of John gives the most important statement in the entirety of the New Testament, not to a man, but to a woman, and to a really important woman who will show up later as the first witness to the resurrection.

You see how these two stories work together. In John 11, Lazarus is raised from the dead, and who is there but Mary Magdalene? And at that resurrection, she confesses that Jesus is indeed the son of God. And then you go just 10 chapters later and who is the person at the grave? She mistakes him, at first, thinks he’s the gardener. She turns around and he says, “Mary,” and she goes, “Lord.” It’s Mary Magdalene. It is Mary Magdalene.

Oh, and now I get to place for you the final piece. Do you remember learning that Christ wasn't Jesus' last name? I do. Christ is the English version of Christos which was the Greek translation of Messiah, which literally meant “smeared” as in “smeared with oil” as in “annointed as king” because the Greek didn't have a Messiah concept like Hebrew did. So when we say Jesus Christ, we are actually saying “Jesus the Messiah.”

Well, a lot of people think Mary Magdalene was called that cause she was Mary, from Magdala. Except there was no village called Magdala. Diana Butler Bass summariezes it this way:

When we call her Magdalene, Mary Magdalene, is not Mary from Magdala. Instead, it’s a title.

The word magdala in Aramaic means tower. And so now you get the full picture. In the Synoptics, Jesus and Peter have a discussion. In that discussion, Peter utters the Christological confession. As a result of the Christological confession, Jesus says, “You are Peter the Rock.” In the gospel of John, Mary and Jesus have a conversation, and Mary utters the Christological confession. And she comes to be known as Mary the Tower.

Between these two confessions, are we looking at an argument in the early church? Peter the Rock or Mary the Tower?

But the John account was changed. The John story has been hidden from our view. All those years ago, Mary uttered those words, “Yes, Lord, I believe you are the Messiah, the son of God, the one who is coming into the world.” …

Mary is indeed the tower of faith. That our faith is the faith of that woman who would become the first person to announce the resurrection. Mary the Witness, Mary the Tower, Mary the Great, and she has been obscured from us. She has been hidden from us and she been taken away from us for nearly 2,000 years. …

Or, or perhaps and, you can leave here with a question: What if the other story of Mary hadn’t been hidden? What if Mary in John 11 hadn’t been split into two women? What if we’d known about Mary the Tower all along? What kind of Christianity would we have if the faith hadn’t only been based upon, “Peter, you are the Rock and upon this Rock I will build my church”? But what if we’d always known, “Mary, you are the Tower, and by this Tower we shall all stand?”

OK, that's it. That's my big Biblical Studies breakthrough story. Perhaps you might want to laugh with me that the big breakthrough is simply another affirmation that God loves and cares about all people, JUST LIKE THE TEXT FROM DEUTERONOMY said in a lot fewer words.

But, dear ones, what if we'd gotten both stories? And maybe the even more important question: how can we live now that we have both stories? How can we be followers of Jesus who was seen clearly by Peter and by Mary? How can we be people of faith who both follow a leader who is a rock on which we are steadied and a tower who lifts us all up? What if masculine and feminine were allowed to stand together as holy to the deepest core of our faith? What if there is a whole lot of space for both/and in our tradition!?!?

Someone actually didn't want that. Someone edited it out, and made Mary smaller. Dear ones, may we commit ourselves to the opposite. May we go out and make God, and each other, and all we meet BIGGER! Tower like, even. Amen

1 ALL THE MARYS Wild Goose Festival, Closing Sermon, July 17, 2022 by Diana Butler Bass https://dianabutlerbass.com/wp-content/uploads/All-the-Marys-Sermon.pdf

Rev. Sara E. Baron  First United Methodist Church of Schenectady  603 State St. Schenectady, NY 12305  Pronouns: she/her/hers  http://fumcschenectady.org/  https://www.facebook.com/FUMCSchenectady

May 21, 2023

[abirddogmoment]

These are my beloved friends and I look forward to their visit every year 💛

[no1bookgirl]

Wild Goose Turkey Chase

Synopsis: Every year, since Tobais Hawthorne discovered Nash’s fondness for turkeys, Hawthorne House has set up a pen full of turkeys somewhere outside of Hawthorne House. In 2024, 27 years after the first turkey pen had been set up, a certain Hawthorne *cough* Xander *cough* forgot to lock the pen correctly. The turkeys put their brains together and hobbled out of the pen, now having free reign of Hawthorne House, tormenting its occupants with a haunting gobble.

POV: 2nd from you as Grayson’s gf!!

Pairings: Grayson x Reader, Avery x Jameson, Libby x Nash, and Xander x Max!

wc: 9.8k

a/n: Thanksgiving fic!! one of my first actual character x reader things. I was going to do a halloween themed one cause halloween would be crazy at hawthorne house, but thanksgiving was much more festive! (this might also be a day or two after thanksgiving 🙄🙄) Warning!! one y/n usage that I really tried to avoid… I hate having to write y/n it’s so icky to me ☹️ MINOR GAMES UNTOLD SPOILERS!!!

Now, I present: Wild Goose Turkey Chase

Wednesday, November 20th, 2024

When you are the girlfriend of Grayson Hawthorne, former heir apparent of philanthropist Tobias Hawthorne, you were bound to have that big, fancy Thanksgiving that you felt you could never get used to. You were also bound to getting caught in the antics of his brothers. And their girlfriends.

Yeah, Hawthorne Thanksgiving was good, lavish, luxury, chaotic especially, but you couldn’t help but remember your fondness for your grandmother’s mashed potatoes. Or your mom’s turkey. Those quiet, comfortable, small Thanksgivings. The ones where you’d actually have time to go around the table and share something you’re grateful for.

Trying to take your mind off of your need for your grandma, for your mom, just for your family again, you walk down the art gallery, staring at the walls of endless works. Your eyes fall upon one exhibit, a large amount of turkey-hand paintings ordered by year. There were four rows of them, each containing around eight paintings. The top row was Nash’s, the hand feathers becoming more defined as the years grew on. It was cute to think of the Hawthorne brothers squishing their hands in paint, pressing it against paper, and decorating it was silly items like top hats and monocles, a cowboy hat and a lasso, or sun glasses and a glass of wine.

You’d done the same project when you were a child, running home from the bus stop, paper fluttering in the wind, slamming the door open and proudly displaying your artwork on the fridge. Gentle hands would rub your back, cheek kisses were also common, soft words would encourage your art.

Before actually meeting the brothers, you never would’ve been able to imagine them doing that from what you had seen. It would feel too forced, like they just didn’t fit into that picture of childishness. But maybe that was one of their plans all along, Grayson’s plan. He needed to be that mature business man, always trying to keep himself steady, others steady too, including you until you saw through that facade, breaking him open to see who he really could be.

“Beautiful, aren’t they?” Grayson’s voice came from behind you, the now audible clicking of his shoes becoming louder.

“Yeah,” you laughed. Turning around, you found one of those rare Grayson smiles plastered on his face, warming her heart. Maybe it was the holiday spirit, or maybe the fun memories of the turkey hands.

He looked down, like he was nervous, but you could still see the hint of the smile. “It’s you,” he said as if reading your mind, “that’s making me smile like this. Even after being together for three years, it’s still so foreign.”

“Well, I’ve gotten used to your smile.” You took a few steps closer to him, closing the gap as you wrapped your arms around him. “Gray?”

“Hm?”

“Do you want to know something I’m thankful for this Thanksgiving season?” you asked innocently, batting your eyelashes at him.

He cocked his head. “Friends?”

“Close…”

“Family?”

“Closer…”

He chewed on his lip, in actual thought. “I give up,” he said, mock defeat in his voice.

“This Thanksgiving season, I’m grateful for…” you paused for dramatic effect, your mouth staying in a wide open-mouthed smile. “You.”

Grayson’s brows shot up, even though you had told him this millions of times before. “Really?” he asked, his arms finally wrapping loosely around your torso.

“Forever,” you sing, rocking you and Grayson back and forth, “and ever and ever and ever.”

The two of you sit there for a moment, taking in each other in the silence, wrapped up all nice and cozy compared to the outdoors. But everything with Grayson was warm. Swimming was warm because of summer. Grayson was warm because he was your sun, the thing that brought that smile to your face, the sun that faded down into a calmer, more comforting figure as the day dragged on. Grayson was the warm person you would wake up to in the morning, pressing yourself against his chest or his hair or wherever you happen to be.

Grayson leaned down into your ear, his breath warm, heating you up even more. “They’re setting the turkey pen up soon,” he commented. “Do you think it would be fun to watch?”

“Grayson,” you cock your head at him, “we do this every year: You come up to me, butter me up and all that jazz, then ask if I want to watch them build the pen, which we end up doing no matter what I say.”

He chuckled at you, at all the other turkey pen watching times you’d been together. Reaching around his back, he grabbed on of your hands, giving it a gentle kiss. “Shall we?”

You gave one of those small, flustered smiles even if he had done this so many times before. “Why, yes, prince charming.”

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The pen was always a grand thing, more than enough room for the turkeys. There were about seven or eight turkeys in there, not at all knowing they would get slaughtered in only a matter of days at the hands of the greedy, and hungry, Xan- Hawthornes.

“I feel bad for them,” you said, letting your head rest against Grayson’s shoulder as a frown deepened on your face.

Grayson’s head cocked gently. “Why is that?”

“Because they don’t know they’re going to be eaten,” you began, even more empathy creeping in now that you actually expressed your sadness. “They just think they’re getting out in a new fancy home.”

“Well, all things have to come to an end at some point, and sometimes that end might not be when you’d expect or want,” said Grayson, his voice soft and steady, keeping you down.

You nodded absentmindedly, continuing to stare at the helpless turkeys. “I guess you’re right. But when are you not?” you murmured, hopeful that he didn’t hear the last part. But by the small smirk that he somehow couldn’t suppress, you could tell he did hear it.

“Who’s all coming for Thanksgiving this year? It’s approaching faster than I’d like.”

“There’s a few new people coming this year,” Grayson said, a half sigh in his voice. “I know Gigi and Katrina will be joining us this year.”

Your heart dropped at the mention of that cat. Lord did it scare you. Not that you were scared of cats, but the way the leopard sized cat would stare at you from Gigi’s arms, it’s pupils shrinking as it looked like it was planning you to be her next meal. Grayson always made sure to keep a safe distance between you and Katrina whenever Gigi decided it was her turn to barge into your room. Whether it be holding Katrina or letting her sleep on him, he’d separate you two.

“That damn cat,” you breathed out.

“Knox may also be here this year, maybe not. Lyra’s having Thanksgiving with her family. All the rest of the normal people will be there: Avery, obviously, Jameson, Libby, Nash, then on,” he said.

You blew out a long breath, wishing you could see it in the air. If it wasn’t cold enough to see your breath, it wasn’t Thanksgiving yet. And Texas had a long way to go. 70° F was no where near what homes temperature would be around this time of month. Now, coats would start to be pulled out of the basement. A sweatshirt wouldn’t be enough to keep you warm. Hats wouldn’t be out for a while. It always seemed that something, just one thing, was just off enough for this place to not feel like home.

Even if you came here almost every break you got in school since you met Grayson three years ago, it still never felt right. Too hot. Too stuffy. Too many people. They didn’t know what you meant when you called certain things differently. You’re offered sweet tea instead of lemonade on those hot summer days. It was never enough. And you felt bad. Grayson always tried to make you feel at home here, safe, secure. You tried to make yourself seem happy, but Grayson could see right through it.

A whirring sound came from somewhere around the corner. Grayson’s arm instinctively went to wrap around you, holding you closer to him. A… figure emerged from the corner. It was Tiramisu… in a child sized Jeep?

Without having to see who it was, Grayson called out, “Xander.” It was silent before Xander popped out from behind you and Grayson, his arm tightening even more around you. You yelped, clinging on to Grayson.

“Greetings, fellow residents.” Xander gave them no time before he started to ask questions. “How has your day been? How do you like Tiramisu’s Jeep? How about the turkeys? Are they interesting this year? Should I dye them purple-“

“Alexander,” Grayson commanded, stopping Xander in his tracks. You’d almost never seen Xander stop talking this quickly, but he was silent. “There is no need to dye the turkeys, or anything for that matter, purple.”

Xander’s lip puffed out in a pout. “But that’s the best part,” he whined, knowing full well that he would do it anyway. And temporarily dye Grayson’s hair to get back at him.

Contorting your face, you look to Xander. “I don’t think purple is very festive…”

Xander looked up, taking that into consideration, and nodded. Tiramisu panted from beneath you, wiggling against whatever was keeping him in the toy car. Xander bent down to pet him, earning wet dog kisses to his hand.

“We better get going,” he said, “Tiramisu Panini Hawthorne, you’ve got a long day ahead of you.”

Your brows furrowed. “You training him for the Macy’s day parade or something?”

“Similar to that. Hawthorne style,” he said with a grin that greatly reflected Jameson.

“Do not suspend him from a helicopter like you did with our last dog? That did not end well for Wilhelmina,” Grayson scolded.

What happened to Wilhelmina?

Xander huffed out a long sigh, groaning and whining like a little kid. “You always ruin my plans, little Graybe-“

“Don’t even try that with me, Alexander.” The full name again. What was up with him today?

Xander turned around, pulling out a remote control to have Tiramisu slowly follow him as he sulked away. But Tiramisu’s smiley little dog face was the opposite of Xander’s, tongue out and panting.

“Xander?” you called. He slowly, dramatically, turned around to face you again. “Who’s feeding the turkeys?”

“We’re going in an order. I’m first, then Jamie, Grayson, Nash, Avery, Libby, and last Oren,” he mumbled, still keeping his sad face on.

He turned back around, pulling out a remote control to push Tiramisu around as he wobbled away. Beside Xander, Tiramisu was the opposite, his face all smiley, tongue out, tail wagging, and panting.

When they were far enough away, you looked up at Grayson, your best attempt at a mad face directed at him.

He noticed your expression, arching a brow—those weirdly perfect brows. No, it was actually weird—and cocking his head. “What’s that face for?”

“That was really mean, Grayson. I think you should apologize,” you declared.

Grayson gave you a look, one that you knew meant that you both mutual understood something, but you were deciding to act like you didn’t. “He’s going to be okay. I know he’s going to be okay. And the look he gave me just means he’s going to do that, but ten times worse.”

“But you called him his full name. Twice!” You’d almost never heard Xander be called by his full name. Not even by Nash. It genuinely took you a second to realize that Alexander wasn’t an inside joke between Xander and Grayson.

“Trust me, he’ll be okay,” he said, finally, squeezing your arm and giving you a kiss on the top of the head. “Now, how about we go back to our gallery walk?”

The smile reappeared on your face and the two of you turned around, making your way back into Hawthorne House.

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Thursday, November 21st, 2024

Somehow, on this fine evening, every just so happened to be eating lunch at the same time, small talk filling the table as they passed plates around, piling food on top of other food that you knew were not goin for taste good once all mixed together. But for some strange reason, Avery and Jameson made it a competition to see who could stack their plate higher without a single thing falling. They were both well off their plates, at least six inches of food each. You and Grayson shared the same disgusted look. Yeah, your family wasn’t as fancy as all these people, but at least you had manners.

Suddenly, with dramatic effect, Xander burst into the room, a panicked look that you had never seen before on his face. The bang made Avery jump, knocking over everything on your plate, mingling with all the other food. Her hand flew over her mouth at the mess. Not only did it topple over and mix everything, it splattered everything everywhere, on everyone, and Tiramisu was more than happy to clean up the floor.

“Xander!” Avery screeched. Her face softened when she saw Xander’s. “Xander..?

“They. Are. Gone.” He punctuated each word with a force you’d expect out of Grayson.

Nash swiftly stood up, getting into his ready stance. “Who is gone, Xan?”

“The turkeys. When I went to go check and see if they ate all their breakfast, there was only one left. I didn’t close that pen right, they’re all gone,” his tone was frantic, more than you had ever heard from him before.

Grayson followed Nash but his stance was much more protective, aware. “That just means that they are on the premises, not exactly inside of Hawthorne House.”

Xander shook his head violently. “They are inside. The seven that got out. And they are out for revenge,” he panted. You finally made the connection that he was probably running from them.

Oren started to talk to someone on his radio, giving them instructions on what measures to take next. Xander sat down at the table, swiping his finger through Avery’s fallen mix of ham, cheese, mayo, grapes, and some garlic sauce. Xanders face twisted, then loosened, and continued that pattern. Grayson had migrated over to Oren, trying to go through everything they had to do.

The rest of the lunch was silent, doors locked, waiting for the anticipation of the turkeys.

“So everyone-“

“Shut the fuck up.”

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It wasn’t long before one of the turkeys tried to claim its first victim.

Can turkeys fly?

Yes, turkeys can fly, but only short distances.

Speed

Wild turkeys can fly at speeds of up to 55 miles per hour.

Oh. My. Fucking. God. Help me.

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You were aimlessly roaming Hawthorne House, trying to find something to distract yourself with. Thundering footsteps came from down the hall, screaming accompanying the steps. It was a familiar shriek. Avery. And then you heard it, what she was running from. The gobbles echoed through the endless halls, not allowing you to know where it was coming from.

You looked around for any kind of escape, anything high enough that you could still climb on. You time spent with the Hawthornes and built you an expertise in climbing, even when there was almost nothing to climb. There was the tiniest ledge, just enough to fit your foot, so, you began your climb. Arm moving up and over, feet bracing against the wall.

On top of the ledge, your legs shook, almost taking you down to the ground. Avery’s footsteps grew louder as they approached you, the flapping of wings following. She shrieked again, the slapping of her shoes against the ground growing closer together, her legs moving faster.

“What the fuck!” she screamed, her arms pumping as she rounded a corner, coming in to view.

Suddenly, she ran into something. She faced the turkey, its speed slowing. They were at a standstill. Avery versus the turkey. Avery stood proud, trying to cover her obviously shaking hands and legs, her breathing ragged. She licked her lips, staring down the turkey. Taking her eyes off for only a second, she looked up at you, pleading in her gaze.

“Are you just gonna sit there and stare? Help me!” she called out, disturbing the turkey. It gave an aggressive gobble, taking a step toward Avery and flapping it’s wings. She moved backwards, slightly stumbling.

Under you, the wall shook, knocking you off balance. You almost fell, but narrowly caught the ledge with your shaking fingers, her hands almost too sweaty to hold you up. Without any warning, a loud crack came from under you. Avery instinctively ducked down, her arms covering her head. The turkey fell over, it’s body still on the floor, a small hole behind where the turkey had just stood.

It felt like your legs moved without any signals from your brain, nothing was telling you to move but you were.

“Avery!” you said, rushing over to her. You knelt beside her, your hand rubbing up and down her back. “It’s okay, shh, you’re okay,” your voice was gentle. Her body shook as she pulled herself up, wrapping her arms around you.

Footsteps echoed from behind the two of you, and you turned to find Jameson holding one of the Winchester rifles. How fitting. Then, you connected the dots. Secret passage way.

“Avery,” Jameson breathed out, falling down beside you. “Are you okay? I’m sorry I scared you.” Similar to Xander earlier that day, he looked more panicked than ever, scooping Avery out of your arms.

“I’m fine,” she said shakily, her breathing still uneven.

“Fine and okay aren’t the same thing, Heiress,” Jameson said, a small, soft, trying-to-be-comforting smile on his face.

Avery took one more deep breath before sitting up, untangling herself from Jameson. “I’m okay. I promise.”

The two sat for a moment, just staring at each other.

“We should probably clean that up,” you commented, loosely referring to the dead turkey a few feet away.

“Yeah,” they sighed together.

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After Oren had come and cleaned the turkey up, you traveled back to you and Grayson’s room, flopping down on the bed next to Grayson and his laptop. You gave a dramatic sigh, finally able to breathe fully.

“What’s that for?” Grayson asked, starting at her collarbone and tracing a finger down your arm into your hand.

“One turkey down,” you began, “six to go.”

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Friday, November 22nd, 2024

Some nights, when even you couldn’t get Grayson to fall asleep, you two resorted to the few other people Grayson felt——not necessarily safe sleeping in a room with——comfortable to sleep in a room with if you were their too. Grayson’s eyes drooped, and you felt so bad. He hadn’t slept much before you had arrived back at Hawthorne House from Harvard, the place where he had betrayed you and left. He didn’t really betray you, just had his own shit to deal with. But, still, it hurt. The dark circles under his eyes were more prominent than ever, shadowing his pale face. You also came to the realization that his heightened irritability—Xander’s first name, the purple turkeys—was due to Grayson’s lack of sleep. Poor thing.

You wrapped one of the millions of blankets Xander had in his pile that he called a bed around Grayson, tucking him in snuggly.

“Good night,” you whispered against his ear, giving his cheek a soft kiss.

Xander was also somewhere in the pile, probably cuddled up with Max or some of his stuffed animals.

“Good night to you too, Xan,” you whisper called, a waving hand appearing somewhere underneath the blankets.

Xander had a strange habit of forgetting to close doors. Anywhere he went. Any time. But he especially did when he went to bed. You always assumed he didn’t have much of a night time routine. Well, until Max came around and forced him into a nightly skincare routine. Or maybe Xander just liked to have that small nightlight, just a little childlike comfort.

Lying behind Grayson, your legs wrapped around his waist, your arm draping over him side under his arm. You tried to sleep, you really did, but with the events from today, you couldn’t help your open eyes. Grayson’s hair twirled around your finger, his light snoring, Xanders not-so light snoring, Max wiggling around in her sleep. Everyone in the house was peaceful, but you just couldn’t focus. And when you tried to sleep, you only thought about not sleeping, keeping you awake even longer.

So quiet. So eerily quiet. Nothing like what you were used to sleeping through in Cambridge. Or, at least, your first year when you were required to live on campus. Since then, and kind of to apologize for leaving, Grayson got you a nice house not too far from campus. It was nice and cozy—2 bed, 3 bath, nice finished basement equipped with a bar!—just what you were looking for. It kind of reminded you of the heaps of blankets you were in right now.

One game you enjoyed playing in Xander’s room was Dig In His Weird Blanket Pile And See What You Find! It was kind of like a blind bag: you never know what you’re going to pull out.

You dug your hand in, feeling around until you found something. It was cold, despite the warmth of the blankets, circular, felt like glass. You wretched our hand out of the pile, holding up a small, glass ball. A Fushigi ball? Hawthornes and their weird talents. You put that one back down, digging around for something else. Your fingers caught in something else, pulling out a crochet hook, a single piece of yarn connecting it to a half finished crochet dog that vaguely resembles Tiramisu.

You continued to dig around, finding new random things, some you didn’t even know existed. When your hand was touching the bottom of this pit, the room got lighter, and lighter. The door was creaking open. But Nash wouldn’t be up, he probably would’ve woken Libby up. And why would Jameson or Avery be coming in here at this hour? That left only one thing.

The fucking turkeys.

You froze, your arm still in the sea of blankets, unable to move. Beside you, Grayson shifted, rubbing his head around, his brows furrowing when we couldn’t find your hand.

“Mm,” he whined, his arm reaching to feel around. Your free arm roughly grasped his wrist, stirring him more. “What are you doing…” he trailed off when he saw the panic on your face, the utter fear. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” He sat up fully, grabbing your hands. You looked back up at the ledge of the pit until he followed your gaze. He must have noticed the weird amount of light streaming into the room.

Then the gobble came. And another. Were there multiple? Here? Right now?

Like some sort of sleeper agent—literally—Max launched up from where she was sleeping, bringing Xander’s arm with her. Xander stirred too, rubbing his eyes as he sat up.

“What the fuck was that?” Max whispered, her eyes locked forward as if she wasn’t able to move, that if she did some monster—the turkeys—would come out and attack her.

There was a figure peering over the ledge now, casting a shadow on Max. It’s sickly long neck, that stupid beak, the feathers down the rest of the body. You were only just realizing how terribly inaccurate your hand-turkey drawings had been. It gobbled again, flapping its wings, and jumped down. Max screamed, scrambling out of the pit. You followed, confused and disoriented, the lack of sleep catching up to you. Grayson rushed up after you, his arms going around you.

Xander continued to look around confused. And then he began to, very slowly, climb onto the ledge, wobbling across his room to somewhere by a desk of some sort. “Don’t freak out, you guys. I have something for this.”

Of course he did.

He adjusted the screws or bolts of mechanical things you didn’t understand, paying very close attention to the turkey’s position. He pulled a small lever back, and then let go. It was another one of his weird machines, the ones that take too many steps. The thing ran almost all the way around his room: on the walls, the book ridden ceiling, the floor, even. Only seconds after that lever was released, a ball, in your mind a canon ball, launched from a corner not too far from you, hitting the turkey square in the head.

That drew a gasp from you, Max, and Grayson, all still standing huddled in a corner.

“There,” Xander said, grogginess roughening his voice, “are you better now?”

⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆

You and Grayson laid on the floor of Nash and Libby’s room, Max curled up next to you. The door was locked securely, making sure to pose no danger to the sleeping people inside.

⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆

Saturday, November 23rd, 2024

When your eyes finally opened, they met Nash’s, Grayson standing beside him.

“Mornin’,” he said, patting your shoulder. The surface under you was comfortable, squishy, compared to the floor you, Grayson, and Max had chosen to sleep on last night.

When you finally collected your mind, you focused on where you were, what you knew about the turkeys now. I’m in Libby and Nash’s bed, I think, and two turkeys have been taken down. That leaves only five more, that could be done in a day, right?

“Are you feeling any better?” Grayson asked, his voice soft and quiet.

You completely ignored the question. “Where is Xander?”

A small smile pulled at Grayson’s lips, warming your heart. Your face also heated up thinking about the fact you most likely looked like you crawled out of a dumpster five seconds ago.

“Xan slept in his own room. He’s okay, too,” Grayson assured, running a hand through your hair, getting caught in the knots near the bottom.

“Mm,” you hummed in recognition. You stuffed your face back into one of the pillows, trying to drift off again. Grayson’s hand ran down your back, stopping just above your hips and tracing back up.

It was nice, having him there with you, something to keep you steady in the midst of all these turkey troubles. Your mind drifted off, dreaming of pool what and hot summer days, cameras and candid polaroid pictures, Grayson’s violin and your piano matching in just the right places.

⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆

The next time you woke up, the room was more familiar the things you had dreamed of: playful strings of photos on the wall, his violins hanging with them. It was nice to have that feeling of home in at least one place here.

It was so quiet. Quieter than you had ever heard it. Even in the dead of night you could here Jameson and Avery scurrying around, Grayson taking a swim, Xander working up late on his next project, the steady strum of Nash’s guitar, used to put the babies to bed. Everyone had probably locked themself up in their room, including you. But then where was Grayson?

Deciding it was time for your next quest, you got up, wobbling over to the closet, and then the bathroom, finally getting ready for the day. You didn’t feel like doing much today; just a simple sweater, jeans, and a pair of fluffy socks you pulled out of some looks of clothes you were hiding from Grayson.

After leaving the bathroom, you opened the door to the balcony, the cold air washing over your body. You peered over the railing, the pool water still leaving no sign that Grayson had been there. Strange. Guess the next stop was the music room.

The hallways were especially empty today. Not even a cleaner or security walking around. That’s why the hallways were so quiet. It was eerie walking through the halls, the ceiling too tall now, the walls too close, the hall too long, a shiver creeping up your spine. Your steps quicken, trying to looking for any signs of Grayson. But it was like he just disappeared, gone.

Standing outside of the empty music room, you felt weak, tired too, your lack of sleep finally catching up to you. Then, your ears caught the beginning of a note, followed by another, and another, each played flawlessly, tuned perfectly. Maybe the music room wasn’t so empty. But piano wasn’t exactly Grayson’s forte. Your head peeked in, catching a glimpse of a figure at one of the pianos. A cane leaned up against the bench gave away who it could be. The sound of your steps light, you entered the room, trying not to disturb Nan as she listened to the piano.

“I know you’re there,” she said, her voice as gruff as usual. “You ain’t sneaky.”

Now caught, with no escape, you walk over to the piano, standing on the other end of the bench.

“Sorry to disturb you,” you said. Nan looked over to you, and you were just now realizing where Nash had gotten his many faces from. “Mind if I sit here? I won’t make a peep,” you promised.

“Fine,” she huffed.

You took a seat beside her, gentle to not knock over her cane of the other side. Sitting silently, you watched as the piano keys pressed themselves down, the music following with them.

“You play?” she asked, breaking the silence between the two of you.

You nodded slowly. “Sorta. I’m rusty though,” you admitted. You placed your hands gently on the piano keys, thinking up a song to play. Her fingers pressed down the key, moving in a familiar rhythm. The occasional press of the wrong key would stop you, making the song choppy. But you couldn’t help to think that those mistakes, the things that might slow you down, just added character.

Nan swayed to the music beside you, matching the rhythm. She seemed to recognize the song, know how to play it, pressing down a key or two on her side when it might have seemed too far from you. It was nice to have this moment. Most of the time, and what had been described of her, Nan wasn’t gentle, she was gruff, she was snorted laughs, she was bored huffs. Or maybe, just maybe, Nan was just Nan.

“You’re good,” her voice seemed softer now, calm “Y’know that, right?”

You nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

Her finger rested against one of the lower octave note, playing a simple pattern, switching between notes. Her head turned the slightest bit toward you, you could feel it.

“C’mere more often. I can get you to learn some of my favorite songs,” she said. A smile grew on your face, returned with a not so happy look. “Don’t make that face. You’re starting to look like Xander.”

Pad-pad-pad

The hell?

Pad-pad-pad

You leaned over, trying to see on Nan’s side, find where the padding feet were coming from. Riding up next to the two of you, an animal came in, bobbing its head as it walked. The turkey.

“How are you in here?” Nan said at the turkey, and the way she said it made it seem like she actually expected an answer from it.

Gobble

She stared at the turkey, like the stare-down Avery had had with the first turkey. Her hand reached over for the precariously balanced cane.

Poke

“Get.”

Blank stare.

Poke

“Get.”

Blank stare.

“You’re really going to make me up, aren’t you, bastard,” she huffed, standing up and using the piano as leverage.

Her cane swung aimlessly in the air, only hitting the turkey a few times. “Scram!” she shouted at it, watching as it scurried away in her presence.

Bonk

The turkey slammed right into the wall.

Thud

Another loud sound as the turkey hit the ground.

Similar to Nan, you just stared at it, motionless.

“One more turkey down,” you grumbled.

⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆

Sunday, November 24th, 2024

Waddling into the kitchen, you jumped up to sit on the counter beside Libby’s chocolate cupcakes.

“Libbbyyy,” you said.

“Yeeeeesss,” she dragged as she carefully frosted a cupcake.

You put on your best puppy eyes, looking at her like a little kid. “Can you make me something for lunch?”

“You’re twenty-two,” someone drawled from behind you. “You don’t need Lib to make you lunch.”

You flicked your hand at Nash, not even turning around to look at him. “Shoo.”

“Excuse me?” Nash said, his voice now right behind you.

Nash walked around the counter, a baby balancing on his hip, taking a ball of cookie dough off of a baking sheet nearby and popping it in his mouth. “I think,” he said around the cookie dough, “you should make your own lunch and let Lib breathe.”

“Thank you, Nash, but I think I can take care of myself.”

The baby was placed on the counter next to you, looking up and smiling at you.

“Hi, there, baby,” you squealed, picking her up and placing her on your lap, moving her arms around to fake punch or lifting them up and down, making her dance. She giggles and squeals, looking around, until her face dropped, looking at the entrance to the kitchen. Following her gaze, your eyes landed on another one of those stupid turkeys.

“Another one?” you whispered, drawing the attention of Nash and Libby.

“Another what-“

The room froze, everyone’s eyes on the turkey. Everything in the room was still, just staring. Until the turkey screamed its battle cry.

“What the hell,” Nash muttered, watching as the turkey ran in circles around the kitchen.

Libby jumped onto the counter watching as the turkey made a b-line toward her. She screeched, grabbing that pan of cookie dough and throwing it, hitting the turkey right on the head. Her hands flew to her mouth, covering it in shock.

“I just killed that turkey,” she mumbled. “I just killed that fucking turkey,” she repeated, her eyes wide.

Across the room, Nash stood staring at Libby. “Good job, Lib,” he said proudly.

“Usually, the turkey in the kitchen is dead,” Jameson said, entering the kitchen. Avery soon followed behind, probably startled by all the commotion.

“Libby, what’s wrong? What was that bang? And most of all, why are you on the counter?” She gave no time to answer any of the questions.

Libby’s mouth opened and closed like a fish, trying to form words.

“Are those turkey cupcakes?” Avery asked, looking to the tray of cupcakes beside Libby.

“I was stress baking!”

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Monday, November 25th, 2024

It was quiet again, the hallways. They weren’t empty this time, though, just quiet. Sitting on one of the many benches placed around Hawthorne House, you were reading a book, still too distracted by the turkeys which defeated the purpose of reading. Or what reading was supposed to be doing right now. Your book just wasn’t interesting enough. It couldn’t grab your attention like so many others had before. You thought it could be an escape, but it failed, miserably. Every sound, the rustle of a tree, the audible explosion of one of Xander’s creations, the faint shriek of Grayson’s violin, it all made you jump. When was the next time you’d be accosted by a turkey?

Bark, bark, bark

“Tiramisu!” Xander screeched as he ran after Tiramisu, both of them moving directly toward you.

Tiramisu jumped on the bench beside you, sticking his nose in your nose and then licking all over your face, sending you into a fit of giggles.

“Xander!” you said, choppy through your laughter. “Help me!”

Once Xander had gotten to the bench, he opened his arm, scooping up Tiramisu. “I told you to stay by me, missy,” he said, “I said you had to be the Oren to my Avery!”

“You’re using Tiara as your bodyguard?” you laughed in disbelief, the concept of Tiramisu, so tiny next to Xander, being his bodyguard was comical.

Xander head nodded proudly, placing Tiramisu back on the ground. He flopped onto the bench, blowing out an exaggerated sigh. “It’s like this dog doesn’t even know English.”

You snorted. “Xander, you’re not gonna believe what I’m about to tell you…”

A smile grew on his face, looking over at you. “Aren’t you ecstatic to have Katrina here? I know you love her so much.” One of his long, skinny fingers approached you, poking your cheek.

Rolling your eyes, you huffed. “I don’t know. At least Gigi will be there.”

“Yeah, that’s good,” said Xander. Tiramisu jumped up on the bench, lying on her back and spreading across your and Xander’s laps, all smiling and panting. Your hand instinctively went to his belly, petting him.

Suddenly, a thought came to your mind. “Who takes Tiramisu on walks?”

Xander stared blanking at the cleanly lined trees across the path, his smile fading. “That’s a very good question.” He cocked his head, genuinely lost in thought.

“Oh, my gosh. I don’t know who walks Tiramisu,” he admitted. “I don’t even know if she gets walked.”

The two of you sat, contemplating Tiramisu’s daily schedule, trying to find any space where a walk could fit it.

“She has her morning bath at 8, then she has breakfast at 9:30, every other week at 10:30 she has her manicure,” Xander said. “12:00 she has lunch and then goes to play.”

“Maybe that’s when she gets walked?”

“But that’s play time, not walking. At 12:45, she’s tired and takes her afternoon nap in Libby and Nash’s room, and joins Nash for a doggy guitar lesson and then a doggy piano lesson at 2:00 and 2:30.”

“How does she even play guitar or piano? It’s not like she has fingers,” you asked, thinking of all the possible, stupid, ways that Xander could have come up with.

Xander shot up, intrigued by the opportunity to share his creation. “Okay, so it’s one really big piano, like, each key is a foot wide, and it’s like those ones that you can step on to play it and it’s really fun.”

“What about the guitar?”

“That’s one isn’t really her playing, she just kind of paws at the strings and Nash’s hand…”

“Oh.”

More silence. Tiramisu panting. You pull your phone out, checking the time. 12:19 Perfect timing.

“Perfect timing,” you voiced. “It’s play time.”

Tiramisu shot up, jumping off of your laps and spinning in circles, waiting for you and Xander to play with her.

“Should we play with the long sword today?” Xander joked, standing up and aggressively rubbing Tiramisu’s back.

“For sure,” you said sarcastically, getting up from your own position, closing your book not caring about where you were.

Tiramisu trotted next to you as the group of you walked to one of the many expensive fields scattered around the Hawthorne property. There was actually an area dedicated to Tiramisu, a bucket of toys and beaten up sticks near the entrance to the fenced off land.

He fake threw it a few times, finally letting it go and watching Tiramisu launch after it, a bolt of brown, curly fur.

“We really need to find a time to get her walked,” you sighed.

“Or just ask Nash if she goes on walks.” Xander shrugged slightly, taking the returned stick and catapulting it again. You were surprised that Xander didn’t have a machine for this yet, but you guessed he just really wanted to spend some time with Tiara.

“Christmas is also coming up, maybe we’ll do something fun again like the other year,” reminded Xander.

You rolled your eyes at the thought of having to do Hawthorne Secret Santa That’s Not At All Secret Santa. “Crazy how me and Tiramisu got each other. She couldn’t even get me a present!”

“She did get you a present,” Xander pouted.

Shooting a glare at him, you crossed your arms. “I proper present. Not a pigeon he found on the driveway.”

A minute passed and Tiramisu still hadn’t returned. She couldn’t have gone far, but surely it had been far enough for you to not see her at all.

Another minute.

Tick, tock

Another minute.

What’s taking so long?

“Tiara?” You called, your voice echoing through the wind. “Tiara? Tiramisu!”

Nothing but trees rustling.

“Tiramisu Panini Hawthorne!” Xander shouted, starting to walk in the direction Tiramisu had last ran to. “Where are you?”

Trudging up the hilly part of Tiramisu’s play area, you peeked to the fall of the hill, two figures running around at the lowest point. You could easily recognize Tiramisu being one of them.

“Tiramisu!” you repeated, running down the hill. Watching as the hyper dog ran around after something, she finally caught up, pouncing on it.

“What is that?” Xander muttered, following you down the hill.

Approaching the writhing animal and Tiramisu, you recognized the long neck, the feathered body, the distorted squabble.

She got another turkey!

You scrambled over to her, rubbing and petting her. “Good girl, Tiara!”

“Yay!!” Xander whooped from behind you, pumping his fists in the air and jumping up and down. “Tiramisu’s a hero!” he chanted.

“Tiramisu’s a hero!” you joined in, jumping around as Tiramisu ran in circles around you.

Two turkeys left. Which, based on this pattern, two more days.

⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆

Tuesday, November 26th, 2024

Gigi’s arrival was scheduled for today. And Katrina. Ugh.

Avery was always the one to greet people at the door, as she owned Hawthorne House and didn’t want anyone doing anything for her. With the events of the last five days, Avery had to, reluctantly, bring a whole new group of bodyguards to the door.

You decided to join them, thinking that it would save you from the turkeys that seemed weirdly attracted to you. Your meet up spot was far from the entrance—in some random meeting room one the third floor of Hawthorne House. Maybe turkeys couldn’t climb stairs? It’s only other method of getting to the third floor would be elevator which wouldn’t work very well for them.

“So, Avery,” you said, sidling up into the beside Avery, “how do you think Thanksgiving is going to go this year? Seems pretty eventful already.”

“Not good.” Her head was balanced in her hands, elbows in the table. “Everything has gone to shit because of those stupid turkeys.”

Reassuringly patting her back, you leaned back in your chair. “I think it’ll be fine. Thanksgiving—scratch that, any holiday—here is always a little eventful. Like secret santa the other year.”

“Oh, my god, that was hilarious. Libby got out so fast,” she let out in a laugh.

“Oh! Not really a holiday, but from what I’ve heard of Nash’s bachelor party,” you said. “You know what?” Avery hummed. “I should get Grayson a pair of fresh leather pants for Christmas this year.”

Avery let out a strained giggle, trying to hold it in, before she exploded, throwing her head back and leaning in her chair, almost tipping it over.

“Ms. Grambs,” one of the new bodyguards said, his voice commanding. Your laughter quickly subsided, leaving you and Avery silent. “Ms. Grayson will be here soon. I recommend starting to walk to the entrance in order to get here before she does.”

Avery nodded, standing up from her chair, stretching, and walking over to Oren. You followed her like a lost puppy, standing awkwardly on the side as she tells Oren what the other bodyguard had just said to her.

“Shall we get going?” she offers.

“We shall,” Oren replies flatly.

With what seemed like an entire army of bodyguards behind you, Avery, and Oren, you started your journey, through the windy halls and passageways.

Truly, you were excited to have Gigi over, thrilled, but it was that cat. Katrina. Katrina Katrina. Now, she wouldn’t do anything to you—couldn’t do anything. It was just that hunger way she looked at you, her eyes forming into slits as she glared at you from perched beside Gigi.

“I can just tell you’re thrilled to have Katrina over,” Avery said, practically reading your mind.

“Me and Grayson already had this conversation,” you huffed, shaking your head at the ground.

Avery just laughed, following your gaze to the ground. “It just,” she paused. “Katrina isn’t even scary.”

“It’s not that!” you burst. “It’s not that she herself is scary, it’s just that way she looks at me like I’m her next meal. Like I’m one of the turkeys!”

Avery seemed very amused by your argument, just smirking that smile that told you she had spent one too many hours with Jameson.

“Maybe you are her next meal,” Avery teased, poking your ribs.

“You’d just let me get scarfed down by that cat?” you scoffed. “Wow. What a fake friend.” You crossed your arms, dramatically turning away from Avery and picking up your speed.

Avery just skipped after you, jumping on your back and holding your sleeve to keep you close by. “I was just kidding, jeez,” she laughed, watching as a smile broke out on your face. “See! You aren’t even mad at me!”

You joined her giggling, knocking into each other as you walked through the halls, laughing over stupid stuff that probably wasn’t even funny.

“Oh, my god!” Avery jumped up. “There’s something I have to tell you about! Okay, let’s set the scene, I’m in my room, it’s an unusually quiet night. Jameson isn’t back yet and his curfew, set by me because we had an event early the next morning, was way behind us. Hours behind.”

“Damn. Grayson would never. Could,” you corrected.

“I know! I’m getting tired, it’s like twelve and I’m just planning on going to bed by myself, cold and lonely,” she continued.

You wrapped your arm around her shoulder, pulling you in. “You could have just cuddled with me,” you said with a wink.

“Aww,” she shimmed her shoulders against you. “Okay, back to my story! The lights are off, I’m almost asleep, until the door finally creaks over, Jameson standing in the doorframe. To be funny, I pretended to sleep, waiting for him to shake me awake or something. But all that happens is that Jameson crawls into bed next to me— Oh! I forgot to mention he was drunk. Yeah, so, he crawls up next to me and just whispers in my ear,” she lowered her voice into a whisper, “‘I have a secret…’”

You recognized that, something Avery had mentioned one time when she was talking about her mom. “Doesn’t that have something to do with your mom..?” you guessed, shrinking away in case you were wrong.

“Yes! At this point, I’m intrigued, waiting for Jameson to whisper whatever this secret was into my ear. And what he said is un-fucking-believable. He says: ‘When me and Nash and Grayson and Xander were younger, we tried starting a band, and we uploaded a bunch of videos to YouTube—it was a private account—but someone hacked in and made it public. So, somewhere on the internet, you can find video of all of us dressed up real funny and singing a bunch of shitty songs.’”

Your mouth drops open, trying to picture a younger Grayson on some makeshift stage at Hawthorne House, performing some pop or rock song.

Avery just laughs and smiles at your shocked expression. “That’s exactly how I felt on the inside,” she giggled, clearing her throat to continue her story. Again. “Like any sane person, of course I go in my computer the next day, and search up their little band. It wasn’t difficult, even if I didn’t have a name, and lord was it funny. Jameson on electric guitar, Nash playing some regular guitar, Xander on drums, and Grayson for vocals.”

“You’re kidding!”

“I’m not!”

“She isn’t!” a new voice pops in. In front of you stood Gigi, Hello Kitty suitcase almost exploding, mostly like being packed with cat toys. Katrina was sitting next to her, way too professional for a cat.

“So?” Gigi lifts her eyebrows. “What is she not kidding about?”

You and Avery grinned at each other, slowly turning to Gigi. “Your brother and his brothers’ attempt at a boy band,” you both said.

Gigi gasped dramatically, a smile stretching across her face. “You’re kidding!”

“She’s not!”

“I’m not!”

Not too far, as you’d expect, was Oren, the smallest hint of a smile in his face. He noticed you staring, gesturing a nod toward Avery. “She isn’t lying. I was there.”

Through the commotion of laughter and conversation, it would’ve been hard to hear anyone, anything if something went wrong. Or if you had a visitor.

“Ow!” Gigi winced, placing a hand on her hip and rubbing it. “What was that?” She jumped again. “Ow! What the…” She looked down to her left, finding the perpetrator.

“A turkey?” she asked, her voice a mix of shocked confusion and fear. And then full fledged fear as she realized that there was a turkey trying to get her. “It’s a turkey!” she squeaked, running over and trying to climb Oren like a jungle gym.

Noticing her alert, he gets right in to bodyguard mode, looking around for the threat. He landed on the turkey, reaching somewhere on his hip.

“You two, move back. Now,” he ordered, not wasting a second once we had. Just like the first turkey taken down, a loud bang rang out, the turkey thudding on the floor after.

A new commotion broke out after the shot was fired, filling the foyer with a sound too loud for you. Quiet was something you were used to now. It wasn’t too nothing, it just was. But this, it broke all of that quiet.

⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆

Wednesday, November 27th, 2024

There was one last turkey. One final turkey before this was all over. Like you had the day the turkey war began, everyone was gathered in one of the dining room to eat lunch, but instead, it was a meeting.

“Okay, everyone!” Avery commanded from the head of the table, standing up from her chair. “I have brought you here today to discuss our game plan to take down the final torturous turkey. I have devised a role for each of you.”

A list appeared on a screen that seemed invisible until now.

Avery and Y/N: Gamemasters [;)] - Will create solutions and test products alongside our Builders.

Libby and Nash: Healers (Lots of baked goods…) - Helps in case of emergencies.

Jameson and Gigi: Fuel - Food, drinks, whatever. Most likely working beside our Healers.

Grayson and Oren: Logistics (of sorts) - Thinks about how our plan may actually work, what might go wrong, and how to fix it.

Xander and Max: Builders (you’ve got this, Max!) - Builds our solution if needed, tests it too.

Oren’s Men: Capturers - searches for the turkey and relays messages to Oren.

Tiramisu & Katrina: Our Last Resort Weapons - If all else fails, we have them to use.

“Working in these teams will help our plan work better. Each of us being alone may cause too much stress or tension. Having multiple people on a job will also move things alone faster,” Avery states. “Lots of these roles will work with other roles, example, Gamesmakers will often work with the Logicians and Builders. Because of our collaboration, we’ll need a method of communication. Phones may be laggy and are very reliant on battery, which some of us don’t value.” Avery shot a glare at Jameson. “So, each of you will be given a walkie-talkie.” She looked to Oren, motioning for a box on the floor ten feet from the table. He lifted the box, walking around the table and distributing one to each member.

“Now, shall we spread out? Our Healers: Libby, Nash, and our Fuel: Jameson, and Gigi in the kitchen. The Gamemakers, Logistics, and Builders follow me. Capturers spread out and look for the turkey. Our final weapons will also be with our healers and fuel. Go!”

⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆

Nothing was working. Each plan failed by just a little bit, and when you tried fixing it, it failed again. Everyone was tired. Sitting there for three hours trying to think of something, trying it , and failing. No matter how much food and drinks you were given, that adrenaline from before was starting to fade. We also haven’t got any word on where the turkey could be.

You lay on the floor, head resting on Grayson’s chest, his hand running through your hair, down your back, and back up.

“We can’t give up,” Avery said, sitting up from her defeated starfish on the floor.

“But there’s only one more option left,” you groaned.

“Katrina and Tiramisu.”

⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆

“Oren,” a distorted voice came from his walkie-talkie, “we’ve got’em. In Alexander’s Wing. He was standing out front of Alexander’s room, almost got in. Couldn’t find him for a while; place’s a mess.”

From across the room, you watched an exaggerated frown form in Xander’s face.

“Time to move out,” Oren ordered, leading the way.

⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆

Luckily for you, every hallway of Xander’s wing was filled to the brim with weird trinkets and big machine pieces. Hidden behind a long table which was most likely used to hold fancy decorations at one point, everyone crouched, covered by the new less fancy things piled on the table.

“Xander, you’ve really got to clean up your mess,” Nash said, that mother hen coming out of him.

Xander waved a dismissive hand in his face. “It’s fine.”

“I’ll make Grayson do it then.” Xander’s worst fear: someone possibly messing up his perfectly messy set up with their perfectly clean organization skills. Which Grayson excelled at.

Xander’s head turned slowly toward Nash, his eyes narrowed. “You. Wouldn’t. Dare.” He punctuated every word, but it was difficult to take Xander seriously sometimes.

“You know damn well I would dare,” Nash chuckled, meeting Xander’s eyes, steady and even, not even a hint of intimidation.

“Enough with the bickering,” Avery demanded. “Do you guys remember the plan?”

Avery’s head spun around, looking at everyone, landing on Libby and Max frantically shaking their heads. With a sigh, Avery explained the plan. Again. “We send you in as bait,” Avery pointed to you, “and wait for the turkey. Once it tried to attack, we jump out and attack it. If nothing else works, we send out Tiramisu and Katrina. Now do you got it?”

The silent agreement was enough for Avery, sending you out to take your place across from the turkey. You felt like Avery or Nan, staring down the turkey, waiting for any movement from it. The tension built, heart racing under the gaze of everyone, everything. This probably looked so stupid: you, standing in front of a turkey, practically have a staring contest, while everyone else was scattered around the room hidden behind piles of shit Xander needed to clean up.

You knew that even if the turkey did attack you, which was what this plan relied on, you’d be safe. Each person was equipped with a weapon of their choice. Gigi was keeping Katrina back, Oren had his gun, Avery held her knife, steady in her fingers. Jameson had a finished bottle of wine, Xander held Tiramisu back, Max had been nervously gripping her wrench before, Libby had a baking sheet, Nash had a whole goddamn guitar, and, lastly, Grayson firmly held one of the long swords. None of these people would let you get hurt, even if it was by accident every single one of them would feel bad, like it was their fault.

But now, standing in front of the turkey, you have to put all that behind. Face this stupid thing head on.

It finally made a sound, a distorted gobble. You braced for impact at the sound of a squeal coming from somewhere in the room, but it never came. When your eyes opened, a streak of light brown blew past you. Was it the turkey? It was only until that same distorted squabble cried out that you realized that either Katrina or Tiramisu. Based on the fact that Katrina would probably enjoy seeing you being eaten by a turkey, you expected to find Tiramisu wherever the flash had gone to. On one side of the room, the opposite side, you heard a whine. So it wasn’t Tiramisu.

The sound of something being dragged across the floor drew your attention back to the other side of the room. Katrina moved slowly toward you, dragging the turkey in mouth toward you. She dragged it to your feet, stopping, sitting very professionally, looking up at you and flashing one of those strange smiles that cats can pull off. She nudged the turkey with her nose, sitting back up a pawing at it.

“Katrina!” Gigi shouted, her voice a mix of anger and admiration. “What was that? You weren’t supposed to go until I told you to!” she scolded, picking Katrina up.

Katrina looked up at her with those innocent eyes, nuzzling in Gigi’s neck. Gigi huffed out a sigh, giving up on trying to lecture Katrina into listening.

“Well,” Avery said, her voice holding a confusing emotion, “that was the final turkey. It’s over.”

The room broke out into a cheer, even Oren was smiling, but the only one standing still, in the middle of it all was Avery. Weaving through everyone, you walked up to Avery, taking one of her hands.

“You okay?” you asked, trying to catch her gaze.

She shrugged. “Sure.”

You gave her that look that Nash always gave you (you were still trying to master it), cocking a brow at her (another thing you’d learned!). “What’s wrong? You sad there’s no game anymore?”

Avery stayed quiet, swaying with you when you wrapped your arms around her. “I guess,” she said shamefully.

“I swear you’re starting to sound more and more like Jameson every day,” you teased, poking her in the ribs this time. “Now, come on, turn that frown—“you flashed a smile”—upside down.”

Taking both of her hands, you forced her to dance with everyone else, swaying around the room until she finally gave in.

⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆ ⁑ ❂ ⁑ ⋆

Thursday, November 28th, 2024

There was a singular turkey on the large table, making it look small. Everything else was normal, and you knew damn well that with a snap of her finger Avery could have a thousand more turkey and make this year’s turkey amount normal. But she didn’t. And it felt like home. Watching everyone argue over how much turkey everyone would get, fighting over the last pieces.

Your hand searched around under the table, meeting Grayson’s and wrapping your fingers around his, leaning your head against his shoulder. A smile, unknowing smile grew on your face, watching everything, so perfect.

Maybe now you would try a little harder to make this place feel like home.

a/n: WOOOOOOOOO!!!! this took, like, over a week to write it’s actually insane. and the end still seems sort of rushed 😣😣 but i’m gonna leave it and maybe come back to it later. because of the rush, i don’t care if there’s any mistakes, this isn’t proofread……..

[blackcrowing]

Authentic Irish Foods for Samhain

🩸 Blood pudding (living cattle could be bled through the winter to provide the material as well as collecting blood when the cattle were slaughtered to keep the numbers down for winter)

🫓 Brambrack

🍲 Stew

Lamb

Beef

Wild boar

Domestic pig

Deer

Goose

Mallard

Hare

🐗 Salted wild boar and domestic pig (it is possible that other meats were salted for preservation but given that salt was an expensive commodity and no records indicate other meats we simply do not know. I will note here that we also don't seem to have records of smoked meats for preservation during this time)

🦌 From Samhain to Bealtaine it was considered inappropriate to hunt wild game, including boar. So while wild meats were likely eaten and preserved through this time, much like crop harvests for Lughnasadh, any game that wasn't taken before this festival was supposed to be left alone to breed. (Very unlike our modern hunting schedules)

🍺 Mead and Barely ale

🥣 Porridge

Oat

Barley

🥛 Dairy (this would likely become more limited as the season progressed, but butter has been found in bogs, presumed to be preserved but potentially given as offerings)

Cow's milk

Butter

Curds

mulchán 'hard cheese' (the exact nature of this cheese is unknown but it was described as being extremely hard and could be stored for long periods of time)

🦪 Sea food

Sloke

Clams

Muscles

Crab

Halibut

Sea Salmon

🌿Native Culinary Plants growing in Ireland at this time of year

Skirret

Apples

Purple sprouting boccoli

Wild cabbage

Blackberry

Raspberry

Rowan berries

Elder berries

Sloes

Rosehip

Acorn

Chestnuts

Hazelnuts

Hen of the woods

Pullball

Fairy Ring Champignon

Chanterelle

Porcini

Black Trumpet

Saffron Milk Caps

Cauliflower Mushroom

Wood Blewit

Penny bun

There would be an abundance of foods at this point in the year, but that food would become lesser as the season progressed do to lack of production in the environment and the fact that this point in the year was a time for traveling and feasting (likely to increase bonds amongs the Tuatha and because people would not be as occupied with farming and raiding).

My Kofi

[aceinacloset]

Misc facts about the funtimes 🥺

I love these goobers

CIRCUS BABY:

☆CB is very protective of the Bidy Babs, it is recommended that she is deactivated before any maintenance is done on the bidybabs

☆CB can carry 7 kids max, any more, and she topples over.

☆CB has the shitties sleep schedule out of all the Funtimes (Ballora doesn't count she doesn't have a sleep schedule)

☆She HATES maintenance, mostly because 5 times outta 10, staff fuck it up and she has to be sent to the scooper anyway.

☆CB has a Christmas themed outfit. Christmas themed colors, also wrapped in lights with star themed bows (she is the Christmas tree)

.

BALLORA:

☆A child grabbed her leg once. She wasn't mad, she just didn't move till the child was off.

☆Foxy has slept on Ballora once, she slept decent that night. But foxy got caught being in there.

☆The minireenas climb on ballora a lot, and she doesn't care too much about it.

☆Ballora's song was written by Katherine. It was a poem she wrote that William took and made a balloras song (bro missed what it meant).

☆Balloras Christmas attire is mostly green with red highlights

.

FT FREDDY:

☆A kid challenged him to a staring contest, he won.

☆Besides Bon Bon, Ballora is the only one that can keep Freddy from doing stupid things.

☆Funtime Freddy has a very faint sent of cotton candy

☆Funtime Freddy always let's kids wear his hat at least once.

☆Funtime Freddy gave a birthday kid a piggyback ride once. It scared the shit out of staff and the kids' parents.

☆Funtime Freddy's Christmas themed clothes are much like the others, red and green. With him having shiny stars on the inside of his cape and a mistletoe in his hat.

.

BON BON:

☆Bon Bon is easily portable, much to his dismay.

☆Bon Bon makes a slight huming noise when she sleeps.

☆Bon Bon got kidnapped by a kid. It was a wild goose chace till staff caught the kid. It was one of a few times Bon Bon was happy to see a staff member.

☆Bon Bon wears a sparkly red and white bow tye for the Christmas season.

.

FT FOXY:

☆Foxy can do a handstand, for like 10 seconds

☆Foxy sometimes stretches like a cat

☆Foxy can make fox noises, usually when He is startled or surprised, sometimes while she sleeps.

☆Foxys eyes dilate much like a cats does

☆A kid gave him a burger King kids meal crown and said he was 'the king', he's kept it ever sense.

☆Foxys' festive attire is a mesh of red and green with bells on the tips of his ears, on his wrists, as well as on the tip of his tail.

[arizaluca]

The steep roof of the Temple usually meant it wasn’t an ideal place to sit– there was a flat beam at the top, despite how pointed the roof looked; but straddling a beam to sit up there was a feat that not many peope cared to actually do. So, any follower would have reasonably accepted his immense surprise that he could see somebody sitting up there. He stood there for a moment, hand on his doorknob, trying to make out who exactly was ridiculous enough to scale a very steeply angled roof and sit in what must have been the most uncomfortable seat in the entire cult. If only his third eye was open… Then part of the silhouette shifted, lifting off of the head– Narinder stared for a moment, before muttering an eldritch curse that made the tips of his claws itch, and went striding back towards the Temple.

Narinder initially has no intention of visiting the Wintertide Festival after his blowup with the Lamb, but is forced to attend in the end. After being sent on a conversational wild goose chase around the festival grounds, populated with awkward greetings and a lot of intoxicated followers, he eventually tracks down the Lamb to finally give his apology.

They have a drink to celebrate making up and end up getting carried away. Befuddled, Lambert ends up divulging even more than they ever intended to tell the former God.

A conversation is had between a Godly merchant and teeth in the darkness.

[yes-i-write-fanfiction]

Do the TFA Cons and their Human Daemons celebrate Christmas? What do they like best about it?

-Megatron's daemon have endured many Christmases since they crashed on Earth all those years ago and so she's more familiar with the holiday compared to other daemons and cybertronians. She used to hate the holiday since it reminded her that she was so far from home, surrounded by aliens that might look like her but could never understand her. So she avoided the holiday, shut herself away and ignored any and all attempts from professor Sumdac to get her into the holiday spirit. That was until Sari and her daemon were born. For the first time in YEARS, Megatron's daemon finally had something familiar. While yes, Sari and her daemon had no clue about their true heritage, something professor Sumdac had requested, they were still her people.

That's why, when Christmas comes around again, she starts to celebrate it. She still does not particularly care about the holiday but it makes Sari and her daemon so happy to just have her there, for her to share this moment with them. So she'll hang the stockings, go shopping for gifts, put on a Santa hat and even sing some silly Christmas songs. She'll do it all, just so she can feel a little bit normal, like she's not alone.

After Megatron returned to life, his daemon pretended to think nothing of the holiday when that time of the year arrived. If asked about it she'd snarl and make some comment about how she "don't have time for such idiotic nonsense". But Megatron knew, he could feel the soft pang of pain and longing. While Christmas itself didn't matter to his daemon, the time spent with the children she had come to see as her own did. She missed them. Not that he would point that out or even mention it, he knew better than anyone that she would never admit it. They were both too proud and stubborn for that.

-Starscream and his daemon... kinda likes Christmas? At least parts of it. Namely, the gifts. Though in their minds, all the gifts should be given to them. They might indulge and celebrate by exchanging gifts with one another and by having some fancy oil/wine but other than that they don't really celebrate. Unless, of course, celebrating also involves ruining Christmas for everyone else by burning all the Christmas trees they can find.

-Blitzwing and his daemon both claim to not care about the holiday but they are lying. Random and the daemon are both wearing Santa hats and Random is screaming the lyrics of different Christmas songs (mostly All I Want For Christmas Is You) at full volume. Similarly, Icy can be found humming some Christmas songs when they are both alone. Hothead watches the Disney version of A Christmas Carol, the one with Scrooge McDuck, and ends up having a whole Christmas adventure. He takes a picture with Santa, creates a snow army with the local children in the park ands ends up working for the soup kitchen.

-Lugnut and his daemon loudly proclaim that they won't celebrate such an inferior holiday! That is until they learn about the whole thing about Christmas presents. Now they are on a wild goose chase to find and acquire the ultimate gift for Megatron and his daemon! In an effort to excuse this behavior, they both proclaim that they have invited a new holiday for the decepticon empire; Con-mas!

-Shockwave and his daemon might as well be the Grinch. Except the Grinch actually ends up liking Christmas. They don't. They think the whole holiday is pointless and a disgusting display of human inferiority and vain. But then they learn that Lugnut and his daemon are going to get a gift for Megatron and his daemon and now they HAVE TO find an even better, way superior gift. Not in Christmas spirit, they just don't want those two buffoons to think they are more loyal than they are.

-Blackarachnia and her daemon, much to their shame, actually likes the holiday. The festive cheer is infectious and the Christmas songs refuses to get out of their heads. They try to act like they don't care but they both end up getting a gift for the other. Eventually they find a secluded rooftop where they share a nice meal and just allow themselves to enjoy the atmosphere.

[beezonia]

So I’ve been watching power rangers again and wanted to share a few of my headcannons!

——

Reds definitely tend to stick together or relatively close to each other

It’s their thing (Wes kinda takes in some of the younger reds)

Pinks have a gc to chat shit and you can bet kim takes the younger pinks under her wings, kat is a mother hen for sure

Pinks are definitely more emotional along with blues even if they take a more logical approach to things

But literally younger rangers will just rant to the older rangers if they need too

Their going through a hell of a lot for teenagers

Yellow’s gc blowing up when the Taylor Earhardt tells them she’s getting hitched

Leaving the yellows to ask around the whole grid to figure out who she’s getting married too

Specifically Alyssa she’s going mad trying to find out who (best friend privileges were used)

No one knows because whoever it is has kept it really tight

So it ends up in a huge wild goose chase whenever a ranger announces their engagement

Speaking of wedding’s some of the rangers will appear randomly to join in the festivities

Some rangers have got very drunk and tried to dj or cause some sort of chaos (wes and jens wedding)

Like Tommy appears often, specially at baby showers when that happens to bless the babies along with some of the others

Blues sometimes have like a club for just nerding out or showing of their cool stuff

Reds have arm wrestling tournaments

Just rangers end up always meeting each other for birthdays or anniversary’s

Sometimes if one ranger knows a lot of rangers it can turn into huge family reunion esque parties going on

That happened for Christmas once, it was chaos really

Just rangers always stick together, their like a huge extended family

I feel like ranger teams specifically would live close or with each other

Like kat and tommy live together

I like to think trini, zack and billy live together as like a trio thing which would be cool

Trini would dote on them like an older sister for sure

Some of the younger rangers come to the older ones for love advice

The younger teaching the elder ones slang and cool stuff they learn

So the dino based rangers definitely bond over their zords

Ninja rangers compare skills all the time

Rangers just always sticking together fr

[jalapainio]

If I was made the Head Batman Writer tomorrow, here are the five comic arcs I would write.

Batman: Break of the Family. Bruce Wayne is doused with fear toxin, and in his fear of losing people he starts pushing others away. He vigorously tries to find the one who doused him, and discovered it was Scarecrow. By that time, everyone had left Gotham, with Damian being the last, leaving the Robin role. Bruce demands to know why Scarecrow ruined the Batfamily, but Scarecrow just says he didn't. That was all on Bruce.

Batman: Solo. Bruce is alone after the events of Break of the Family. There is a new serial killer, but Bruce can't figure it out. Meanwhile, Mia Mizoguchi or ‘Maps’ starts investigating a new company who popularized the idea of Neo Gotham. Maps proves herself to Bruce as she figures out the serial killer is the CEO of the Neo Gotham Corp, but he doesn't turn her into a vigilante.

Batman: One Last Laugh. Bruce finds himself growing older, and this is reflected in the Joker, whose face has started peeling. The Joker decides to have a massive crime festival, as a tribute towards his life of crime, and sends Bruce on a wild goose chase. He captures Bruce because Bruce is too old, but the Joker does not suspect Maps. She dons a Robin costume, saves Bruce, and tells him he needs help. He accepts it.

Batman: Neo Gotham. Under new leadership, the Nep Gotham company builds a new section of the city, one that is futuristic and decades ahead of its time. The company rebrands itself to Powers Incorporated based on their newest CEO, Derek Powers. In the meantime, Maps and Bruce find themselves in many fights. Maps runs off and meets other Batfam characters. While Bruce fights the last vestiges of the Court of Owls, Maps returns back to Gotham.

Batman: Daughter of Joker. Joker, angry that Maps ruined his Batman plans, kidnaps the new Robin and decides to turn her into his own Daughter using drugs. Bruce goes into a near panic, but this time he reaches out to the Batfam, who return to Gotham to save Maps. The Joker almost escapes, but he is cornered by Jason Todd, who beats the Joker to death with a crowbar. When Bruce discovers the mutilated corpse, he decides against trying to figure out who did it; to him, it doesn't really matter. Gotham is once again full of heros, and Maps actually joins the Batfam.

[rottenpumpkin13]

The Firsts are forced to attend a company Halloween party, costumes required. What are they dressing up as and why?

SOLDIERs + Halloween

★ Anon gets a gold star for a halloween ask. You have come to the right blog friend >:) *evil laughter*

• ShinRa is hosting an ultra opulent and fancy Halloween party. It's one of those invite-only events with a guest list consisting of celebrities and politicians.

• And the 1st class trio are absolutely required to attend. No exceptions and that means Sephiroth is forced to partake in the festivities too—kicking and screaming, of course.

• They're having lunch in Angeal's office one October (it's takeout from the overpriced Wutaian place in sector 8) and racking their brains over what their costumes are going to be.

• "I suppose I could go as a gladiator...?" Angeal sounds befittingly unsure of his own words. He rocks himself on his swivel chair, stabbing his chopsticks into a pork dumpling. Just the thought of sitting through some gaudy event nauseates him.

• Genesis, who has long abandoned his fried rice, lounges beck on the chair across from him. He has both boots propped on the desk, something Angeal is far too distracted to concern himself over.

• "What you could do, my friend, is help me choose." He holds up the open notebook he's been sketching in for the past fifteen minutes. Both pages have detailed depictions of Genesis dressed in two costumes.

• Angeal's face drains of color when he looks them.

• "So?" Genesis's grin is wicked as he arches a single eyebrow. "Bloody Little Red Riding Hood or Prince charming?"

• Angeal leans forth, squinting at the Little Red Riding Hood sketch in particular.

• Angeal: Gen, if you wear that you're going to be arrested.

• Genesis: I am going to be praised for my nerve and versatility.

• Angeal: It's lingerie.

• Genesis: It's camp.

• Angeal rolls his eyes, then stomachs the last of his dumplings. "Go with prince charming," he mutters through a mouthful of food.

• Meanwhile Sephiroth is quietly eating his noodles on the couch while doing some arts and crafts himself.

• Genesis swivels the chair around to face him, planting his feet on the ground. "Oh, goddess help me, Sephiroth," he scoffs.

• Sephiroth stops chewing as he stills. He's hovering over the piece of plywood with a paintbrush in hand. "Yes?"

• Genesis is fuming. He drums his finger on the notebook, lips dripping with venom. "This is why you sent that poor trooper on that wild goose chase? To get you art supplies so you can concoct that atrocity?"

• Angeal shrugs. "I like it. It's smart."

• Sephiroth proudly holds up a sign that reads "COSTUME"

• Genesis tosses his notebook on the table with a groan. "You know what? Why don't we just do a group costume?"

• Angeal and Sephiroth exchange weary looks, but ultimately decide to hear Genesis out. They gather around the excited redhead, dodging his flailing arms and animated gestures as he sketches out another two costumes.

• And this is how the 1st class trio end up attending the halloween party as....

• Three medieval Knights! It's ornate enough to placate Genesis, uniform enough to comfort Sephiroth, and Angeal's inner child is healed. Genesis has a red cloak, Angeal a green one, and Sephiroth's is blue.

• Everyone's happy.

• Unfortunately Sephiroth gets wind of the gluttonous amounts of candy offered at the event and Genesis is drunk within the first hour.

• Angeal spends the majority of the party keeping drunk Genesis and hyper Sephiroth from "dueling."

[twentyyearstoolate]

"Harry, of course it's a real festival! Look at all these artists signed up to perform! Look at these luxury villas! This gourmet food and drink! What could I possibly stand to gain from sending a decorated officer of the RCM on a wild goose chase to a fake music festival? I wouldn't waste the Union's resources just to mock up glamour shots and and convince you to get stranded on an island in the middle of the pale! I'm a busy man, Harry!"

[ladyniniane]

FE3H OC Drawcenber day 2: A scene from their backstory

Teenage Gladys is on her way to meet her biological father. This man is no one to her. She had loved her now dead stepfather as if he were her real father. But now the only thing on her mind to secure better living conditions for herself and her mother. And she will put her wit and cunning to good use.

I prepared everything. I took advantage of a leave given for a religious festival to go there. I'll always remember the atmosphere that morning. Everything was so dark, the clouds so gray that the sky had put on a suit of armor. A cold wind made the trees moan and the lake was liquid steel. I knew where I could find the most interesting prey. With my bow, I shot a wild goose. I wanted him to see my worth, to know that I was a good warrior, able to feed myself and fend for myself. For that's the strength of us children of Faerghus, isn't it? And the imprint of my arrow was a ruby on the white chest of my prey, the only touch of color. And off I went to town with my trophy.

[princesssarisa]

What are the favorite foods of the main cast of "A Christmas Carol"?

Before his reformation, Scrooge likes the simplest, cheapest fare: bread and cheese, oatmeal gruel, or when he's feeling slightly indulgent, a little boiled beef with mustard. But after his ghostly journey, he becomes more fond of festive foods, like roast turkey and goose, roasted chestnuts, and hot punches like Smoking Bishop.

I think the whole Cratchit family's favorite meal is roast goose with mashed potatoes, gravy, and applesauce, followed by Mrs. Cratchit's famous plum pudding. They can only afford it once a year, at Christmas, and they always go wild for it.

Nephew Fred seems like the type of person who would have a sweet tooth, and since he also loves Christmas so much, I think he especially likes plum pudding and fruitcake with royal icing – with plenty of festive brandy in both.

Fezziwig probably likes many foods, considering his size in most adaptations and illustrations. But I'll imagine that above all, he likes beef, because in the book he serves two types of beef at his party, roast and boiled.

None of the ghosts have favorite foods because they don't need to eat, but I imagine that when Marley was alive, he stuck to the same frugal diet as Scrooge pre-redemption. Malnutrition may have contributed to his death.

[outofangband]

Birds of Dor-lómin

I have decided to make two posts at least for the birds of Hithlum, this one and one for Mithrim and greater Hithlum

As I take inspiration from several European and Asian countries for the environment of Dor-lómin, the species here reflects that however to the best of my ability it is ecologically consistent. Obviously this will not be a complete list and I will go back to it!

And as always requests are open! I’m also always willing to put together ecological world building based on specific real locations!

Flora, fauna, geography and environment of Arda Masterlist

Note: I use Hadorian here to refer to the folk of Hador and of Marach including cultural practices that might predate Hador himself

The eastern mountains and forests around Húrin’s house: hazel grouse, brambling, northern wryneck, common buzzard, Zitting cisticola, grey headed woodpecker, black redstart, grey heron, common quail, great spotted woodpecker, dusky thrush, white winged crossbill, Bohemian waxwing, ring ouzel, tawny owl, common raven

The western border and Firth of Drengist: horned grebe, osprey, black crowned night heron, little gull, black tern, great white pelican, common kingfisher, common starling, little ringed plover, rocky pipit, white tailed eagle

Note: many of the mountain, sea and wetlands birds here are incidental species occurring in Dor-lómin because of migration or other factors. This is also true of some of the species listed for the eastern mountain borders.

The fields and open lands: Greylag goose, corn bunting, little owl, gadwall, mallard duck, wood lark, bearded reedling, hedge warbler, twite, common grasshopper warbler, yellowhammer, greater scaup (migratory), nightjar, stone curlew, barn owl, black headed bunting, whinchat, little grebe, goldfinch, blue throat

Throughout: common wood pigeon, fieldfare, hobby (migratory), common crane, mute swan, house sparrow, merlin, common buzzard (primarily in the Southern mountains), black woodpecker, gryphfalcon

World building notes:

-The people of Hador keep ducks, geese, chickens and pigeons including a species like passenger pigeons. They are the only group of Atani in Beleriand that has a practice of keeping birds primarily for eggs as well as meat and who uses eggs in cooking semi frequently. The Haladin, Bëorians, Drúedain and other groups do eat eggs though not usually chicken eggs and do not often use them as ingredients in baking (although there are some Bëorian dishes that involve bread with quail eggs)

Aerin and bird HCs

-Hadorian food is a combination of farming and agriculture and hunting and foraging. Grouse, pheasant and wild ducks are sometimes caught for food

-Sea birds are relatively rare but can be seen in western Dor-lómin near the Firth of Drengist and the border to Nevrast. The northern Sindar who live in western Hithlum including western Dor-lómin keep oral records of the presence and appearance of sea birds and mentions of them appear occasionally in song

-Feathers of geese are designs associated with the Hadorian midwinter festival. They are sometimes worn but more commonly embroidered or painted.

-The northern Sindar by the caves of Androth paint birds on the cave and cliff walls, using pigments made from minerals, bark and sometimes shells. Herons, gulls and starling shapes are the most common.

-Random character HC: Sador’s favorite animals to carve are birds especially ground birds. Some of these he even paints or polishes when he has the time.

[endlessly-cursed]

Bringing Good Tidings, Part One: A Royal Ball

AN: It's here! A thousand times late, but here nevertheless! Tis not the 29th till the sun comes out, lol. This is a collab that Guzma ( @hphmmatthewluther ) and I have created for all of you. Do not worry, this doesn't contain spoilers from neither of our series and can be perfectly read! Enjoy!

Summary: Ten years later after the biggest events on Henriette and Lachlann's lives, the heroes reunite for a royal ball hosted at London.

Word Count: 1.2k

OCs involved: Henriette of Wessex, Frederick of Kent ( @that-scouse-wizard ) Lachlann Doherty ( @hphmmatthewluther ) Mathilde Coventry ( @camillejeaneshphm )

Taglist: let me know if you wish to be added!!

24th of December  

Henriette’s estate was chaos.

Servants ran left and right, some chasing the children while the others made sure that Lord Frederick and Lady Henriette would be presentable for their majesties and the horses. Henriette was used to this, although her dear husband was yet to get used to some of the customs. Adjusting her travelling veil and hairstyle, she looked at her husband, who dealt with the rather long sleeves. She chuckled, amused by how uncomfortable he looked in festive gear. She got up from her vanity and adjusted them. Freddie leaned on her touch, kissing her forehead “Thank you, my love.”

“Nervous?” She asked.

“About the king? Not really. But I am anxious about the feast… it’s the first time we bring the children with us.”

“I know. I am anxious as well. But we’ve worked hard to train them for court. All will be well. Besides, many of Hogwarts’ professors and friends will be there! Our children won’t be the only ones under scrutiny.” She realised what she said and kissed his hand “Sorry, my love. Being under scrutiny is not something we ought to enjoy.”

“It’s alright. This is how you’ve lived for decades now. I’d be surprised if you weren’t accustomed to it.”

They were about to kiss when a ten-year-old Odalric barged into the room, Juliana in tow.

“Mother! Juliana is misbehaving again!” He complained.

“Denegifu and I were merely playing, mother!” She retaliated.

The two of them looked at each other before each of them talked to their children “Tell me, Juliana, were you? Misbehaving?” Henriette asked calmly.

“No! Denegifu and I were playing tug-of-war and she lost. I merely teased her!”

“Is it true, son?” Frederick asked.

“She wasn’t just teasing! She started laughing at her and made her cry!”

Juliana turned to her brother “It’s not my fault that she’s still a baby!”

Henriette made her daughter look at her “Hey! Never say such things about family, Juliana! Despite what you might think of her, she is your sister and will be for the rest of your life, and you ought to love and respect her, alright?”

“Fine…”

“Is that all, Odalric?”

“Yes, father. I will go dress now.”

As each nanny took the children to their room, both parents sighed. Frederick shook his head “I know that, sometimes, children can be mean, but I worry about Juliana.”

“Me, too. I fear that there is somebody who’s pitting her against her own sister.”

“Let us hope that it stays a teenage rivalry.”

Lachlann was adding the last touches to his riding gear when an owl arrived. Without even turning, he asked his wife “Tillie, love, do you mind getting that for me, please?”

His wife, Mathilde, picked the scroll from the ill-tempered owl and opened the scroll. After a few minutes, she turned to look at her husband “Our contact has no news of Bruna. Still locked at home with the children.”

Both of them fell silent. Ten years had passed since Brunhilda had been married off to her cousin and whisked away for her cruel husband’s pleasure, and despite following them into a wild goose chase, Bruna herself asked the couple to leave her be for the sake of her children and herself. It pained them both to leave her to Wilhelm’s clutches, but they could do nothing at the moment.

A servant broke the silence by announcing that their children were already dressed and finishing packing. Lam smiled. If something had kept him going, it was his beloved family. They were all each his pride and joy, and despite the fact that at court they’d be heavily watched by the king, he looked forward showing London to his children.

“You know,” Mathilde commented “this is the hottest event in town. Not even a savage like Wilhelm would miss it. Perhaps there is hope for us to see her again before the year ends.”

She was right. The last time they saw her, they had all been in a royal hunt, and Brunhilda had looked pale and tired. Nothing like the energetic and vivacious young woman that they both had loved. She had been left behind in the hut to take care of her daughters while Wilhelm showed off his son in the hunt. Lam could speak for him and his wife when he wondered how come someone like Brunhilda took so much from a monster like him.

The moment the servant announced that they were ready for their journey to London, Lam shook off his thoughts and took Tillie’s hand, putting a brave face to his family for the sake of the holidays.

As they approached the castle, which, for Henriette, was already much familiar, she smiled. Much had happened there over the years. She had finally laid eyes upon her husband, they had shared small moments, married there, and many of their six children had been conceived there. She now may look bigger and older, but she was much happier than she had been when she was merely nineteen.

“Shall we?”

“If we must…”

“Lord Frederick of Kent and Lady Henriette of Wessex!” The herald cried, and they both made their entrance.

They both bowed to the monarchs and each greeted them.

“Your Graces, may I present my children? You may remember my oldest, Odalric. These are Denegifu, Juliana, Akelda, Cuthfelda and Hilda.” Each of the children bowed as Henriette and tutors had taught them and the queen smiled.

“Be welcome, Lady Henriette. We hope that your travels were safe.”

“They were, Your Graces.”

“Lord Lachlann Doherty and his wife, the Lady Mathilde!”

Bowing respectfully, they all moved on to their seats. Henriette’s, of course, was next to the Queen. The children were taken to another room, as per tradition dictated. Setting onto the seat, they observed from afar how the former serf was now handling gracefully a conversation with His Grace, who seemed intrigued by him. He had certainly come far ever since the infamous feast at the Thane of Cawdor’s castle.

The couple came over to them and curtsied to them both “My lord. My lady. It is a pleasure to see you here.”

“Likewise, Lady Mathilde. You look well.”

Mathilde nodded “Same to you. I couldn’t tell that you’ve had six children. You must tell me your secrets.”

“I’d be delighted, my lady.”

“I hope to see you for tomorrow’s feast.”

“Christmastime and your lovely daughter’s birthday, no less. We wouldn’t miss it, would we, dear?”

Lachlann nodded.

“It shall be an interesting soiree, indeed.”

They were a bit right about that.

Henriette and Frederick sat on the edges of their daughter’s bed, who was starting to stir up. She sighed and opened her eyes “Good morning, Mother. Father.”

“Good morning, sweetie.” Frederick smiled.

“Happy birthday!” Henriette smiled.

Akelda beamed weakly “Is it today?”

“Why, yes!”

Frederick ordered the servants to dress her as Henriette woke up the rest of the children as she reminded “Remember, we are now at court, and we must be on our best behaviour! Keep the naughtiness to a minimum!” She chided.

“Yes, Mother!” They all echoed.

As everyone dressed, Akelda was presented with a beautiful cream dress and a brooch with her favourite flower, the magnolia. She beamed and hugged both her parents “Thank you. You’re both very kind.”

“Anything for the birthday girl.”

Lachlann had woken up with a certain queasiness. He felt it. Something was off. He just knew, after his training. Mathilde had said that maybe it was the mulled wine, but he knew better.

As the court danced away, his senses tingled, telling him to be alert.

This had just begun. And he wasn’t referring to the party.

[narniansagafamily]

Narnian Saga Family's first event

Harps of Gold

December 0001 AC (Aslan's Country) / December 2555: It came upon the midnight clear, That glorious song of old, From angels bending near the earth To touch their harps of gold: “Peace on the earth, good will to men From heav’n’s all-gracious King.” The world in solemn stillness lay To hear the angels sing.

With the arrival of the first celebrated Yuletide in Aslan's Country, all those who gained entrance to the celebrated country gather at Saltwood Court Palace - now magically increased in size to accommodate the entire civilization of Aslan's Country. It's citizens travel far and wide, traveling by ships on the Great Eastern Ocean, traveling by carriage, or by barge up the Great River, to Saltwood Court Palace, which sits just North of Aslan's Camp and South of Owlwood. Here, the citizens will sit out the harsh winds of winter and take pleasure in exciting hunts, glorious balls, feasts, caroling, poems, and more. Mistletoe and evergreens will be hung is mischievous places, and ivy and holly will adorn every wall, and hot ale and cider available at every beck and whim. Gifts of fruit will be given out to fair maidens in the hopes of receiving a cheeky kiss in return. The Kings and Queens of old will all gather together and oversee this magnificent time as they celebrate Yuletide and Aslan, celebrating both old and new traditions, and magnificent gifts will be dolled out to everyone. Each day will bring new events, and each night will deliver a new feast - but remember, the court will be both merry and solemn as the court reflects on the history of their worlds, lives, and of Aslan.

Events:

The Lord of Misrule: a commoner would be chosen as the “Lord of Misrule” and would be in charge of organizing the entertainment and revelry for the Twelve Days of Christmas

Yuletide Feast: the main feast, celebrated on Christmas Day. The day starts with gifts being handed out in the morning in a great celebration in the main hall as a public event. Everyone has what's left of the afternoon to do as they please, before gathering together once more in the main hall for a grand feast to celebrate Christmas and honor Aslan.

Mummer's Play's with music and dancing

Carols being sung throughout the Palace

Wassailing: The enjoying of a communal cup of spiced ale.

Bean Queen: a contest for the castle servants whose winner gets to be treated like a queen for a day.

Frost Fair: a winter carnival for the children.

Ice Festival: a celebration of winter where mock duels are held, small plays are put on by children, dancing takes place, music is played, and a feast is served afterward.

Christmas Guide:

Main meal: consists of wild boar, goose, turkey, peacock

Christmas pudding: made of meat, spices, and oatmeal

Lambswool: made from hot cider, sherry or ale, spices and apples, which when hot exploded, to create a white 'woolly' top

Leech: a milk-based sweet made with sugar and rosewater, which was cut into cubes and served plain or gilded, arranged as a chequerboard

Collops of bacon: made from ground almonds and sugar

Marchpane: a round piece of almond paste that's iced and elaborately decorated, sometimes with figures made of sugar. Crystallized fruits added color

Gilded fruit: Fruit gilded in gold used to decorate tables

Sugar-plate: made from sugar, egg-white and gelatin, crafted to look like walnuts, eggs and other food like marzipan is today

The Marchpane: an arrangement made from almond past which was iced or gilded and then decorated with sugar figures and crystallised fruit, was the centrepiece of this court

Mulled wine: wine heated and infused with sugar and spices

Gingerbread: made from bread, ginger, spices, sugar and wine into a stiff paste which was then molded

Syllabub: a hot milk drink flavored with rum or wine and spices

OOC Information

Feel free to play with any character you like, to what extent you like. Please try and tag all threads with the tag nsfevent001