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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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The dog shies slightly from Eames, as much for the proximity as for what he is: Lily can sense the fae magic and part of her is used to it from Lancelot, part of her is too nervous to growl and make a fuss, but part of her can also sense this isn't the same. Lancelot feels like warm, summery magic and Eames? Eames does not.

She glances away, up towards Lancelot for help then back at Eames curiously -- ears flicking uneasily. What is happening? Who is this man? What is he doing? She turns away a little, uncertain, then curiosity gets the better of her and she leans toward the pendant. Trying to sniff it by stretching forward rather than actually stepping closer to him.

"That's true," Lancelot allows, watching Lily interact with it curiously. He's assuming her hesitance is of the charm, of course, more than Eames. Why would he think otherwise? "I've seen her shy from things before. I've often wondered if it can be trained, the way they sense things. Then she might warn me if I'm about to do something dangerous. Which... I suppose I might do anyway, but a warning is nice."

It's hardly unexpected, especially from an animal that spends all her time around summer magic. Eames smiles at her anyway and keeps his hand steady for her to keep sniffing at the charm. "It'll help keep you safe," he says softly, tilting his head to try and gauge Lily's feelings on this situation beyond wondering what the deal with this strange man. "Assuming you like it, of course."

(Honestly if he comes away from this with the dog not regarding him as a freaky thing to be wary of, it'll be a net win.)

He looks up at Lancelot, giving the question some consideration. It is possible, of course, and it's a huge nuisance, but he wouldn't want to seem too knowing about this kind of thing. "Depends on how smart the animal is, I suppose," Eames says after some pause, "same as training a guide dog, right?"

"Similar enough concept. Learning to detect and react to things."

Lily draws back and looks up at Lancelot again, unsure of herself -- wanting a cue of some sort but not getting it. What should she do? Should she take the thing from the man? Should she wait? She isn't sure. Cocking her head thoughtfully she waits a second longer before pinning Eames with dark eyes -- leaning for a fraction more confidently. His voice is calm, and that helps. Maybe it isn't dangerous? Even though he seems strange?

"Guide dogs take a very long time to train, and plenty of them fail. It's interesting, though. If nothing else just because sometimes I think Lily is a lot more aware of everything going on than I am."

"It might not take as much time as all that if all you want is for her to tell you when there's something strange about."

Eames tilts his head, considering Lily. "She's definitely aware though, and looks like a very smart dog." He grins at her, "aren't you, Lily?"

She starts to wag her tail instinctively at the sound of her name, eyes lifting to Eames. Yes, she is very smart! Yes! The smartest dog! A very good dog. Can she have the thing? She does not know what it is, but she has decided she wants it. Can she? She leans forward to try and take it and Lancelot moves to stop her, a gentle ah as she picks it up in her mouth.

"I think I just bought that," he says ruefully, holding out his hand for her to drop it. He doubts the owner of the stall wants a dog-slobbered charm. Smiling at Eames he turns to dig out his wallet, checking the price. "Do you make charms too, then?"

Since he seems to know a little about that, it seems a safe enough assumption.

"I've been known to dabble," Eames says, laughing as he wipes off his hand on his trousers. Thankfully most of the slobber got on the amulet itself, his hand was just at the edge of it. "I don't have quite the knack for it that some people do, unfortunately."

"I have none at all, so you already have one up on me."

He flashes Eames a grin, hands over the money to the stallholder and waves away the change before dropping to crouch by Lily -- gently threading the pendant onto her collar. She fidgets, squirms to try and see. What is he doing? Is he putting the thing on her? But she wanted to bite it! How can she bite it if it is there?!

"Do you have a stall here, or are you just browsing the competition?" Lancelot looks up, smirks at Eames a little as he tries to do Lily's collar back up. Why must she have it on! Why? He was taking it off! "I've never been to one of these things before, I admit. It's all a little new to me, forgive me if I ask anything foolish -- I'm afraid I'm still learning."

"Don't worry about it," Eames stands and gives Lancelot considering look. Does he not know what he is-- about the magic in him? Or is he only just finding out? It's not unusual for a changeling but... The explanation is probably shockingly mundane, but he doesn't have the explanation and that's gonna bug him. He smiles at Lancelot regardless of all that, a friendly smile, "you have to learn somehow."

He glances at the stall and adds, "I'm just here to browse, so I'm sure I can spare some time for your questions."

"Ah, be careful what you say -- I will have you here for hours if you let me."

Lily fusses to try and get at her collar some more -- she cannot see what he put on it! What is it? It feels strange! She wants to see! Lancelot gently restrains her and shushes her as she fusses, smooths her fur until she gives up and becomes more interested in inspecting him now he's at her height.

"Perhaps I should be asking you to guide me to the best stalls, I fear I will not know what is a bargain and what is not. Lily, sit!"

Her ears flick back at the reprimand but she sits all the same, even if she does not like it.

Eames watches Lily with a smile, what a gorgeous dog. If only he had the time to dedicate to having one of his own, but there's too much happening right now for him to be responsible for a pet. What a shame.

"Well I don't know much about the stalls here, but I can certainly tell you when you're being ripped off." His tone is positively friendly, like he's just that much of a good samaritan.

"That's better than nothing!" he answers brightly, and ruffles at her ears a little more before pushing to his feet. "Perhaps you can help me find some good gifts for people, too. I have a lot of people I'd like to thank for helping me learn things, and I would not wish to buy them something useless."

Lily stands as he does, begins fussing about his feet before looking over at Eames and swishing her tail questioningly. Is he going to come with them? Is he going to be a friend? She is not sure! Perhaps he will be! Her ears flick about as she considers this, tilts her head curiously before looking up at Lancelot as if for an answer. Well? What is it to be?

"Perhaps." He says it with a bit of a laugh in his voice and gestures for Lancelot to go ahead. He suspects the guy's the type who consorts more with the 'good' ones, not that Eames is planning to sabotage him or anything. He just can't pick out anything too nice.

"Come on then," he says to Lily, and she bounces on the spot -- falls into step with Lancelot as he moves. She sticks to his side like glue, both out of obedience and wariness of the environment still. Her ears twitch every so often as people pass them, as stalls with particularly curious things come close.

"Lancelot, by the way," and he turns to flash Eames a rueful smile. "Since we skipped that, aside from Lily of course."

Who always introduces herself very elegantly. Lancelot paces slowly past the stalls, examining things curiously as they walk.

"Do they have this every year, then? I would assume so, since it is a part of the harvest festival, but -- well, as I said this is all new to me. I would not know if such a thing were normal or otherwise."

"Eames," he supplies with his own smile and nods at the question, glancing around at the stalls they pass to see if there's anything interesting. "You'll see an increase in this sort of thing around the, ah... The holidays." He raises an eyebrow and gives Lancelot a semi-conspiratorial smile, "if you know what you're looking for."

"Which I assume you do. Care to share some inside information? Or is there a cost to that sort of thing."

He smirks sideways at Eames in answer to the man's smile, lofting a questioning eyebrow.

"As long as your rates stick to cups of coffee and food off the stalls, I might be able to afford them."

"I certainly wouldn't turn my nose up at a free coffee."

Eames tilts his head, giving that some thought. It's hard to define, especially for someone who can just see it. "But it's mostly instinct, I'm sorry to say." He gives Lancelot an apologetic look, "if you can't... feel the magic, you learn to spot it just through exposure."

Lancelot shoves his hands deep into his pockets, thinking as he walks -- eyes skimming over the stalls and the people ahead.

"Feel it?" he echoes, and tries to work out if he can do such a thing. "Well, I suppose I can feel it sometimes when it hits me square on -- although that is probably not what you mean." He drops his eyes to Lily a moment as she slows by a table to sniff at something. Presumably someone dropped a bit of food, he thinks idly. Dogs. "Perhaps it's something I'll learn over time. Through exposure, as you said. Just like our friend here learns how to detect the nearest meat pie -- Lily, come on."

The lifts her head and twitches her ears toward him questioningly, darts forward a few steps finally and begins tracking -- snout down. She will find the nearest meat pie, just you wait.

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