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undergrounds2015-09-19 11:18 pm
undergroundmods) wrote in undergrounds2015-09-19 11:18 pm
Harvest Festival
Harvest Festival, 19th September 2015
Welcome to the Ealing Harvest Festival! Sponsored by Sylvia Redbright, this event takes place on a bright autumn day in Elthorne Park, Hanwell.
(Images for reference: One. Two. Three.)
FESTIVAL
The park has been transformed into a hub of colourful tents and stalls, a country-style fair selling wood carvings, paintings, baubles, baskets, plant pots and flowers, pretty tin boxes and knick-knacks of all kinds. Of course, this is all to give it an air of legitimacy should the general public wander by. The real wares on offer are those sold by witches: stalls crowded with incense, candles, precious stones, herbs, good-luck charms, spelled trinkets and magical jewellery. Gain entry to one of the small tents and you may be able to buy yourself a low-level spell or potion. It's all there if you know where to look.
Meanwhile, the centrepiece of the festival is the harvest altar: five large bales of hay, stacked around each other, where the festival-goers are encouraged to donate food and other gifts in thanks for the harvest. Tinned food is typically offered. Children attending can make a corn dolly and offer it to the harvest altar. There's food and drink to buy too, of course: vegetable and pumpkin soup, baskets of fruit and seasonal vegetables, home-made bread and jam, tea cakes, fruit cakes, seed cakes, scones and apple pie. Drinks include coffee, tea, cider and fruit juice. In short, it's all very wholesome. And decidedly not vampire-friendly.
A COMMUNITY IN MOURNING
It's not all about giving thanks. Following the hostile takeover by the fae in Croydon and the hard-fought conflict in Barnet, many witches have been displaced and are in desperate need of aid. The poster by the harvest altar says that all donations will be given to the homeless and vulnerable communities in London.
Meanwhile the entrance to the summer house has been disguised by a glamour to prevent the general public from entering. Only supernatural types may climb the steps to pay their respects at the memorial that has been set up to mourn the Daybreak witches and their allies who have recently passed. There are candles, flowers, wreaths and cards jostling for space with pictures of the fallen witches.
RITUAL AT SUNSET
The general public have disappeared but the witches have an important ritual to perform. As the sun sets, they gather up all the donations from the harvest and join hands around the altar. One witch will light a flame. Sylvia herself will invite volunteers of different species to step forward and offer their blood, as a symbol of unity between supernatural communities.
As the hay burns, the witches dance around the altar, their last ritual of the evening.
NB. Sunset is at 18:51.
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[Skip usually gives politics a wide berth. Lots of important people arguing while real problems get ignored. But this... This is a lot closer to home. Especially this month. Because she can't help but be scared of what's coming for her family.
Part of her wishes she was back in Munster, even if she knows her father and brothers can protect themselves. But she's supposed to be here, so she'll stay.]
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[Here she was, being open about the fact that she was a Midnight witch. A rarity- she only told Lance because of that damned curse- but anger brought that out in her. Anger. No, no, it was something more than that, something far more complicated.]
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[She can't help but feel completely awkward. It makes her anxious, knowing so little about what she's talking about.]
I... don' usually get involved in politics too much. So... Guess I haven't been keepin' up.
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[She rolls her shoulders forward, crossing an arm over her chest to grab on to her opposite elbow.] I didn't ever think I'd be involved in them.
[And yet...]
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[She doesn't care about her pack politically. Especially not East End. Not right now. She's a lot more concerned about her blood relations, the ones she's living with and who are close by.]
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[And some of them...]
Regardless. It's awful. All of this.
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[The best she can do is offer a little smile. One that says she knows there's nothing she can really offer.]
Next time y' come into the bar? Drinks're on me.
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[It's such a typical thing to say. But that doesn't make it unimportant. In fact, it still matters. Nancy turns to Skip for a moment, with the ghost of a smile on her lips.]
You're too kind.