A Prelude to Festivities (September 2008)

[narakunohana]

Quest Name:

A Prelude to Festivities.

Format:

Singular (You make only one, non-interactive post that takes your character throughout the entire event.)

Reward:

+3 Experience Points

Scenario:

Why, just one more month until one very special occasion. Long Beach's first Japanese festival!

In an effort with the Japanese government thru California's Japanese embassy, Long beach had arranged a little something for October, but there's only one problem --

California's more or less cutting it's budget on this in half!

With the local officials eager to get this festival moving and to make it's citizens a little better, it decided to hold it's festival in the nearest lakeside Shinto Shrine. Problem: Manpower enough to fix it's horrible condition.

Desperate as the deadline to fix the shrine before October starts, the government had turned to it's younger populace and urged teachers to give incentives to students who would join the cause.

What would you do? Simple:

• Replace the clay tiles on the roof.
  
• Painting the walls
  
• Landscaping/Trimming the bushes and mowing the overgrown grass, planting more flowers, etc.
  
• Raking fallen leaves
  
• Sweeping dust-filled floors
  
• Polishing the giant buddha
  
• ... and so much more!

Let's see how you students fare with manual labor. >3

Requirements:

• Your character must post him/her doing any (or all, or whatever you can think of with regards to rehabilitating an otherwise abandoned shrine) of the above forementioned jobs.
  
• Minimum of 700 words.
  
• Monthly Event ends on September 27th. We will extend it for no one.
  

[Bastille Amtrum]

Bastille was going to be helping out a lot. Despite what you may think of Bastille she was a very outgoing girl, when it was something she thought would be fun. And she had never attended a festival in her life before, despite having lived in Japan for a year.

Bastille you would also expect to be lazy as hell and not participate yet here she was the complete opposite. This festival excited her. So many kids here fought fought and fought. Bastille knew that fighting was one way to see a persons true colors. To see who they where on the inside, yet another was in fun. She wanted an event that would be fun and easy going, hopefully with no fighting. This may also help her see other sides of people, find more likely candidates for “that”…but she would think of that later. Mostly she just wanted to help orchestrate a festival that everyone could cool their over flaming jets for a while and relax. Have a night of fun, with no grudges except for in drinking contests.

Bastille smirked at the thought. Being an announcer sounded like a lot of fun to her all the sudden. However she would make sure she would have fun as well. Her thoughts grinned in excitement in finally participating in something more high school norm, then what she had been trying to pull of lately. However her face immediately returned to a frown. Oh right. Her foster parents had donated lumber and other items to help rebuild the shrine and they also sent over thousands of decorations to set up. They had been over joyed when Bastille had started to write to them again, and then even more so in finding out she would be helping set up the city wide festival. She also heard they would be personally joining the festivities since her foster father was Japanese.

Bastille however knew he was already here, instructing some people about how to properly build the shrine and flashing his Japanese pride so brightly it could be mistaken for the sun. Bastille grumbled and avoided him like she did the limo he had used to bring them both here. Bastille picked up a pile of tiles and scuttled her way up to the roof. She watched for a moment as her foster mothers called to her father for help on what decorations they should use. Bastille couldn’t help but smile, they tried to hard to be good parents to a demon child…and they really where nice people. She left her mother to handle the Japanese decorations. She knew with everyone’s help this place would be turned into the brightest new age Japanese festival that ever saw Long Beach. It made her giddy again and she returned to her work. Bastille stuck another tile securely in place and began to use a small amount of cement to put it in place.

She had been helping out the guys all day, refurbishing the wood in the morning and now the tile on the roof. They would move to building stands for the festival games later. She continued as the sun baked on her back. Wearing jeans and a bathing suit top as she worked she also had her hair tied up messily into pig tails under a bright red bandana. She wore regular running shoes and huge working gloves as well. The sun was hottest on her hands which also touched the hot tile. She continued to place tile after tile into place. The Shrine would be the perfect place…this entire site perfect for such a festival. She couldn’t wait…for once in her life, Bastille anticipated something with glee.

The next thing she knew she was slipping. Her body falling free form through the air. Rule number one, gravity sucks. So how does one survive falling off a roof. Bastille began to cling to anything and everything. However she was plummeting towards the ground. That particular ground was the back of the shrine they had been making to be a Zen garden complete with a Japanese flower garden in the back. It was supposed to be a romantic place for the couples to go and enjoy a drink Bastille guessed. However she found her body falling straight into the newly poured sand. And then a huge explosion of sand. She was buried in it. People came running calling her name. She could hear her mother.

Bastille sat up and began to hiss at the pain coming from her back side. Sand fell off of her in all places, and it even was piling in her pants. Brilliant. She cringed and glared at the people trying to help her up. She stood up and looked at everyone sand still falling from her.

“im fine im fine!” she growled ignoring her mother. She had to make an exit to the bathroom to clean herself more thoroughly. She was patting herself roughly. Damn sand. This Zen garden romantic was bad luck already. She hissed at it and made a mental note. She would steer clear of this place. The last thing she needed was a guy trying to be romantic with her.

[ichirinnohana]

Well, there wasn't much of anything to do the past few days -- and worse, Haruka Yamato was in trouble with her Biology class, so what the heck... she decided to join this little clean-up crew for additional credit. It took a while before her parents allowed her to get out of the house during the weekend, and even more so to have her bring that darned 10-kilogram toolbox outside the house.

-- and a little bit more to ask her mother for money to buy some nails and such.

Then again, they looked a bit elated when she said that she was just going to help out at some Japanese shinto shrine. That wasn't a problem.

---

Haru groaned as she put down his backpack. Several people had donated some wooden boards and yeah, she had immediately been assigned to do the carpentry. Well, her father had a certain love of carpentry and more or less passed on some basic knowledge to his daughter. It didn't help with her femininity, but it was something practical that Haru believed people should know to a certain extent.

She took a measuring tape and began taking measurements to fill that horrid hole on the wall. Well, shit -- she might as well take that part of the wall down piece-by-piece since it was in such in terrible condition. It was weak enough to break down when she kicked it, and she basically did just that until the entire end was done. The foundation seemed in good condition.

Usually, professionals take years to rehabilitate a shrine like this, but meh, this is not Japan .. and she doubted Long Beach's interest in doing that.

Taking more measurements, she later would saw off enough wood to put on there.

-- now if it would just fit.

*Fit*

Perfect.

Just perfect. The girl grinned -- the first achievement of the day: she learned how to saw!

---

"The fuck do you call this junk?!" Haru'd shout out as she spat out the contents of her mouth. Apparently some congee given out to the workers by the government. It was a low budget freebie, and the taste got Haruka pissed. "Next time, add ginger and maybe TRY to use garlic. Some Chicken broth helps. Jeez... Or at LEAST eggs!"

"Budge-"

"Fuck the budget! Gimme that!" Taking a cup of fish sauce, the girl would immediately put it into the still boiling giant pot of soft rice, adding a bit of pepper and left-over chicken stock. Grabbing three pieces of fried chicken she would immediately tear it apart, dropping small pieces into the pot. Why, it started to smell really nice and people started approaching. "THIS the same thing, better tasting and not a penny more. You declare yourselves people of public service yet look at your food! OH MY GOD! It's all KAY EFF CEE!"

The girl would take her bowl and get her share of the newly remade porridge, "Service translates to sacrifice. Remember that. Retards."

She would walk away with the bowl in hand, sipping lightly and happily at her concoction. Yeah, it was a good bowl of congee, and it seriously just needed a little spicing up.

---

*TAK TAK TAK*


*TAK TAK TAK*


*TAK TAK TAK*


"Is that wall done yet?"

"Almost! Jeez, don't rush me... you bag." Haru muttered, hammering a nail into the wall again. It was a slow and sure job, and Haru was being careful not to deal any damage to the old foundation. Old wooden pillars could crumble, after all.

That meant many things. Take it as you like.


*TAK TAK TAK*


*TAK TAK TAK*


"Done! Getting to the next one. BOARD, ... er... please?" The girl would be passed on one more wooden board and she would continue on her hammering. Yeah, she was pretty good at this, even though she openly hated the idea of doing carpentry. She wasn't good enough to consider this a talent, or something she did often to consider a hobby, but it was something she knew she could do -- Well, she'll just have to explain to her mother later where all that dirt on her white shirt came from.

*TAK TAK TAK*

*TAK TAK TAK*

Just a little more.

*TAK TAK TAK*

[Fontes]

Some sort of japanese festival was coming up... At least that's what the panflet on Fontes' hand was saying. Not only that, it seemed like they needed people to help organize it. Well, Fontes liked Japan... And who knows, there would probably be...

... free food, for those who help?!

Plus, besides school, there wasn't much Fontes had to keep his time occupied. Other than gaming, and the webcomic he was doing with a friend of his, that is. So might as well give it a shot. First thing he would like to know was... What is there to be done. After all, one cannot volunteer for something without knowing what is he supposed to do, right? There were plenty of chores on the list, for Fontes to pick from... replacing tiles, gardening, dusting, painting jobs... there was plenty to choose from.

Fontes decided to help on... Carrying stuff! Yes... He had strength in him, and this should prove decent exercise! And there was plenty of stuff to carry around from place to place, so he'd have a lot of work to do. There was construction material, like wooden boards, paint, and decorative objects, like pots...

And this was how he would contribute to the festival. That was his oficial job at the to-be festival site, but every once in a while, he would tell a joke or two, to keep the atmosphere lightened up.

Of course, he wasn't the only one carrying stuff around, but he was the one doing most of it. Poeple would call him, and give him a list of what he would bring. And of course, he wouldn't be carrying stuff around with his bare hands, no...



... He had one of those to push around! You think he would be able to carry more than one pot with his bare hands? He might be a bit crazy, sometimes, but everyone has his limits! And good thing they had the wheelbarrow for Fontes to use, or he WOULD have to carry everything on his own!

And like telling jokes, there was also other things he did here and there, like helping people lift stuff, like tents, and other heavy things. This all seemed like a huge strain to his arms and legs... and truth be told, it was! But he had his DS turned on, and music was playing... And this song in particular would be enough to get Fontes' blood flowing. Not only that, he'd spend most of the time singing it, completely oblivious that he was making a clown out of himself!

uk.youtube.com/watch?v=K0KOfTV1dbc

"They've got a power and a force that you've never seen before
They've got the ability to morph and to even up the score
No one will ever take them down
The power lies on their side

Go, go, Power Rangers
Go, go, Power Rangers
Go, go, Power Rangers
You, Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers"

And what the hell was he thinking, singing such a song?! Remember what I (the narrator) said about limits on being crazy?... Scratch that! His brain just HAD to go "poof" a while ago, for him to be singing this song out in public...

"They know the fate of the world is lying in their hands
They know to only use their weapons for defense
No one will ever take them down
The power lies on their side

Go, go, Power Rangers
Go, go, Power Rangers
Go, go, Power Rangers
You, Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers"

... either that, or his balls are made of steel. Yes, because it takes huge amounts of insanity, or courage, to go around the festival's preparations, singing out loud a song from a kid's show!

"No one will ever take them down
The power lies on their side

Go, go, Power Rangers
Go, go, Power Rangers
Go, go, Power Rangers
You, Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers"

Still... As odd as it seemed, some people actually began to sing along with him, as they would memorize the lyrics... WILLINGLY! Obviously, most of them were people who watched the Power Rangers as kids, and they obviously held that nostangia inside their hearts, just like Fontes... The nerd's singing, as crappy as it sounded (he wasn't even trying to get the tone right!), was actually helping on keeping a rather good mood.

Random Guy: "Hey, you! Can you stop yelling like that?!"

Of course, not everyone liked Fontes' horrible singing...

Fontes: "... you shut up, or I'll call Megazord to stomp on you!"

As nerdy as Fontes was, this was how he replyed to those who criticized his singing. Obviously, he would say this with a sarcastic tone. You never know when someone might think he actually believed on Megazords...

Carrying stuff around, lifting things, telling jokes... and singing the Power Rangers' theme song... Everyone has his/her own way to contribute to the festival, and Fontes did his own... by bringing a festival of his own to the scene!

[[LEON] Joust]

Musings, that was what each event was to her. One musing after another. No real purpose, no real reason, she just did it all on a whim. And this was how she lived her life. In the moment... although that was all she had in truth, with her memory as it was she was unable to look at the past, and likewise, cause she couldn't see where she had come from she can't look to the future. All she had was the here and now. And when Joust saw the poster advertising the rebuilding of an old shrine, she smiled to herself. A smile that only she knew the meaning to. And that was why she stood before a long dirt path in front of her. She wasn't going to take the front path. Nah, to easy.

Joust began to treck along the path, stones and roots attempting to trip her over as she hiked towards the shrine. Her clothes becoming visibly dirty from where she had more then one branch unexpected turn up and hit her, but she wasn't going to stop. She stood against a tyranical school system and even though she got beaten down, she still could walk. And so she did. Marching onwards until sunlight poured into her eyes, her hand rising quickly to shield her vision. The canopy of leaves and branches above her had given way suddenly to the open sky, and the sounds of people hard at work filled her ears. The scents of the forest, the lake, and the hard working youths filled her nose. And once her eyes adjusted to the light, she saw that everyone was hard at work.

“Themie. Here to offer my assistance.” Joust stated, giving a slight bow to one of the coordinators of the restoration project. She didn't wait to hear a response from the person, as she just spied a series of buckets. Each one filled with different tools, for different purposes. And, thinking herself more knowledgeable, Joust lifted one of the buckets and began to walk towards the shrine. Not even waiting to hear a response from the coordinator. Afterall, she knew what she was doing... right?

Joust stood just inside the entryway of the shrine. Staring down into the bucket she had taken... and discovered that instead of taking one of the ones laden with hand tools for repairing, she had instead ended up with a cloth, and some cleaning agents. Jousts face imeadiately soured. She was going to have to clean. CLEAN! An audiable groan was heard from Jousts lips as she stared at the buckets contents. But, she wasn't going to go back and admit she made a mistake to the coordinator. No. Not her. Instead she'd just swallow hard and head towards the tap that was around the side of the building.

She dawdled at this point, not exactly looking forward to having to scrub the shrine, but she made the mistake of grabbing without looking and wound up on cleaning duty. Hauling the bucket with her, scrubbing cloth over her shoulder, her jacket cast aside for the moment under the sunny weather, she headed into the shrine itself once more. Taking one look around the place. People were sweeping, there was also a large statue. And she found herself paused in thought. Caught between polishing then monolithic structure of a man swelled from greed, or polishing the floors his people were meant to worship him from. Neither sounded to appealing but Joust had arrived here and she wasn't going to back out so suddenly.

Joust wandered off to one of the rooms that had already been swept clean, and placed her bucket on the floor. She had a comical thought cross her mind at this point. She slipped off her boots and socks, dipped the cloth into the bucket, then imitated what many an anime character did when stuck on cleaning duty. Running around, buttocks in the air, hands on the floor, going laps of the room. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. This was how Joust speant her time. Working hard at running back and forth to clean the floor. However there was a problem with this. Jousts speed was always excessive, and the floor she polished, was a bit slippery.

Joust was on the final lap of the room. Heading straight for the corner that the bucket of water sat. Joust was focused heavily on her hands in front of her that she did not realise the bucket was ahead of her. And by the time she did, she was only a metre away from it. She tried to stop, but her speed was too much. Her foot slipped out from underneath her, her head hit the ground as she slide forward, hands coliding with the bucket first, and tipping it onto her head. A shriek was heard from the room that Joust was cleaning as Joust pulled the bucket off her head. Some of the other volunteers ran into the room to see what the problem was and they would see what happened to Joust. Some started laughing, whilst others tried to help her. But Joust just shrugged them off and stalked off to find the rest room facilities.

In here, Joust sat on one of the toilets, playing with her now soaked hair. It was ruined. And that wasn't the only thing ruined. Her trinket, the one she always kept with her, that contained her... 'powdered medication' somehow got water into it. And powder exposed to water wasn't a good thing. Joust couldn't get a fix now, so she just stared grumpily at the trinket. Somehow thinking her gaze would evaporate the water and allow her to get a drug fix. But that wasn't going to happen. So she just sat there, staring. Minutes passed, til someone entered the rest room looking for her.

“Hey... umm... Themie was it? One of the coordinators said that was your name. And asked me to bring you your stuff, you left without it.... are you still here?” A woman called out. Joust opened the door to her cubicle slowly, and peered out of the cubicle to find that the intruding woman held her shoes and jacket. Saying that Joust was in a bad mood would've been an understatment. Joust stalked up to the woman, snatching her belongings out of the hands of the other person before putting her boots on and leaving the toilets.

Joust wasn't going to work anymore that day, instead she marched down to the lake and sat there. Her hair was ruined, and her drugs on top of that. She wasn't happy. She did however manage to clean one of the rooms before her... accident. Dangling her toes in the water, she sat there, contemplating. She wondered how many people would be here that day. If her target was going to be there that day. But still, she wasn't in any rush to find out that stuff. Not without a fix.She sat there, staring at the water, until her body started to shiver. It wasn't chilly, not yet anyway. But it was shakes. Whatever traces of cocaine that was in her body was leaving. Which meant she herself would have to leave imeadiately to find a dealer. Joust stood, putting her boots back on and her jacket, she left. This time taking the main path out, she was done there for the day. She needed her fix or else bad things would happen. She knew that. And that's what she aimed to avoid.

[wanderer]

Eric hadn’t helped out with many city events in the past while he was in New York. Part of the reason was because he normally wasn’t that sociable of a person, though the reason for that was more complicated then just not liking people. So when he had found the flyer on his car that they were looking for people to help out with setting up for the Japanese Festival he was tempted to just crumble it up and throw it away. However he hadn’t because talking to people and being sociable was just like training to fight. You had to work at it, practice it, and actually do it to get good out it. So this was an opportunity to actually get out and interact with a large crowd of people for some other reason then fighting. And who knew, he might actually decide that he liked the people he met. The only way he would find out was if he went there and helped out.

At the festival grounds Eric found where he was suppose to sign up to help out and was given the area he was going to be working in. His job, along with several others, was to put together a stage where there were going to be performances and martial arts demonstrations for the crowd. And one of the first tasks for the job was to move the materials from where they were being stored to where the stage was going up. The main problem was they couldn’t really use anything besides wheel barrels and hand trolleys because all the booths that were already up and in the way of any vehicle that would try and get by. So Eric and a couple of the other guys started moving large, heavy loads by hand using the simple tools they had while the rest started putting together the foundation of the stage. It took about an hour and a half to get all the materials on sight and by then even Eric was starting to sweat. (Rough work, eh?) One of the other guys hauling the construction materials commented as he wiped sweat from his brow with a handkerchief. “You would think that they would have done this first and gotten it out of the way.” Was Eric’s reply.

The stage was about chest high on Eric to allow the performers to be visible to all the people around it. It was stationed in the center of the square where the crowd could surround it. At the center of each side of the stage there were stairs to help people get up onto it and at the corners were towers which would hold the lights for when the day turned to evening and sky darkened. Between the towers were strung lines of electric lamps decorated like the old fashion Japanese candle lamps. Or at least that was how it was suppose to look when they were done with it. So far the workers had just gotten the square frame of the base up. So a lot more work needed to be done before the thing started resembling a stage. Considering that Eric had done little in the way of carpentry and stage assembly, his job consisted of picking up materials and handing them to the person that needed them so they could concentrate on putting things where they needed to be. After another two hours the base of the stage was built and the group applied the thin mats that went under the huge cloth cover. When this was finally done, their boss decided that it was time for a break. They were given lunches and Eric sat over in the shade granted by a small cluster of trees rather then the tables.

(You just going to sit by yourself and eat?) Looking up, Eric spotted the guy that had been hauling materials with him earlier that morning and two other people. (Mind if we join you, it’s to hot to eat out in the sun.) Eric motioned that there was plenty of space to sit in the shade, so the two guys and one girl took that as an invitation. (My name is Greg, and this guy here is Mikey.) The second guy gave Eric a small wave. <How goes> (And this young lady is Amy.) {Nice to meet you.}

Eric gave each of them a nod. “My name is Eric.” Greg nodded and extended a hand which Eric shook. After greetings were done Amy chimed in before anything else could be said. {So how did you get that scar on your face?} Greg sighed and Mikey smacked his face as Eric raised a brow at the question. “You don’t hesitate to get to the point do you? I was in an accident and I don’t like talking about it.” That was a lie, but most people weren’t comfortable with the idea that someone was in a knife fight to the death. Amy nodded and then started asking a lot of other random questions. This continued on for a bit before the guys started chiming in as well and soon enough it was a normal conversation rather then an interrogation. By the time lunch was finished the other three were laughing and Eric had a small smile on his face as well.

The rest of the day went fairly quickly. They got the towers up and the lights into position. Everyone was tired, but content with the work that they had done. Greg stopped by and asked if Eric was going to the festival and the wandering male answered that he might. Greg mentioned that he, Mikey and Amy would be running a small noodle booth and that when the college freshman came he should stop by and visit them. Nodding, Eric waved goodbye as Greg left to catch up with his two friends. Nodding to himself, the ex-assassin decided it was time to head home and clean up.

[Gabriel Seran]

*squish squish squish*
the sound of his boots echoed in his ears along the path toward the temple, Gabriel Seran had planned out his day to do a little reconstruction work; why?
Well what else was there to do, OK OK
maybe at times he wasn't always such a bad guy from time to time he could show a better side of himself, though he went through great efforts to not be caught by his classmates or anyone else who would catch him helping a charity case.

White shirt, tight black jeans, paintbrush in hand, looking like a modern day Tom Sawyer.
It was getting hot painting the never-ending wall.
Gabriel brought his clean hand and flicked a lock of his hair dragging it past his ear giving him the visual of the remainder of the wall.
"humph" the gasp escaped his breath.
only a bit more, he'd tell himself
sweat beaded on his forehead, Gabriel followed the road and claimed his nearly emptied water bottle and clasped the liquid from within before returning to his 'masterpiece'
"Great only two more miles to go" he joked sarcastically to himself with a bitter laugh.
The repetitive stroke of his brush put his mind at ease
up, down, up, up, down, down, up
he felt relaxed at ease in his little world
up, down, up, down, up, down
He found himself thinking through why he'd come in the first place.
He was neither Japanese nor of Asian descent, thats one reason he'd found this love for America, melting-pot of the world were people of different backgrounds can come together.
He had a silent pride burning down deep that brought a smile to his face. Funny how he could be so at peace by himself without the bustle of domestic issues swirling in his head.
up, down, up, down, up, down,
the rhythm continued systematically in his head.
his head was filled with empty thoughts that repeated the beat in his head much like the rhythm of his squishing boots did when he walked down the paved road to this endless wall.
up down up down up down
the repetition was giving his wrist hell, Gabriel's foot began beating impatiently against the ground and with each yard he covered in paint, it seemed as though the wall just got a little further. Before long his strokes became offbeat
up up up up up down up down down
by the time he reached the end of the row it seemed like he got drunk half way through his work and decided 'O Fuck it' and started scribbling.
"What is o difficult about painting a wall that causes you so much difficulty Mr. Seran?"
the booming voice came from behind him from what you'd expect to be a large fearsome figure of impending doom, however it was just one of the managers overseeing the student pooled workforce, a small red-faced dwarf of a man who had to stare directly up to meet Gabriel's gaze.
"Why did you even bother coming out here if you decided you were going to just make a mess of things?"
His voice was testing Gabriel's patience but he hadn't looked up to meet he managers eyes, Gabriel was hard at work knelt over painting away at the structure before him coating the layers he'd missed.
"Simply for the view" Gabriel said in a cool voice without any respect coating his words which only seemed to enrage the small man more so.
"Why don't you just pack it up your causing more harm than you're worth Mr. Seran!" his voice at this point had turned agitated and filled with resent.
Thats when the rhythm was broken, in a flash Gabriel was up and had the small man up in his grasp fists clenched around the mans collar leaving no yield for breath.
The strand of hair flicked out of sight dropped before Gabriel's fearsome gaze shielding the topaz flare in his eyes.
Teeth clenched, "Don't give me a hard time for saving your ass out here, If you think you can do better why don't you dress you fucking ass up and get out in this heat and paint your own fucking wall!" Heat was boiling behind Gabriel's chest.
his gaze remained fixated on his temporary employer's horrified face as he forcefully relinquished his grip giving the small man a forceful drop to the ground before retreating from the presence.
"I'll get a lawsuit down here and get you locked up! You hear me!" the small voice said skittering up the path carried on a pair of small legs which didn't seem to carry him far.
"Yea, you do that." said a more relaxed Gabriel, more to himself rather than to the fleeing midget.
He brought his long fingers over the paint can and smeared the remnants onto what was left of the wall, funny he was almost done too.

[seishounohana]

A certain white-haired female from Public High School #259 had nothing better to do over the weekend as she had already finished mailing the next volume of her manga over to her publisher. It was a good thing, since that meant she was free for the next few months or so.

Or maybe not – for as of now, she had absolutely NOTHING good to do with her weekends. Emily was a girl who liked to keep herself busy, so having nothing to do was more than torture. Her hands always itched for some activity, and singing, surfing the net, and doodling had it’s limits.

What? Do you expect her to sleep the day away? No. Even though she is quite a hypersomniac, she didn’t give in. Coffee was her best friend at this sort of thing. But for now… there was this festival that needed help.
She had nothing better to do, anyways.

"Lunch, Coffee, Hedge shears, trimming shears, extra clothes... I guess that's it." she said, sighing. Well, this ought to be a tiring day.

---

Light Snipping sounds came from the shrine front-side garden. Of course, the Filipina would be pretty busy with fixing the landscaping. Some of the rose bushes had gotten way out of control and she had to cut quite a bit up. Yup, it was in really bad shape.

She had to research earlier than morning on what the shrine had looked like before it started to rot into this sad state. The landscaping was simple, and more or less no different from those Japanese Shinto Shrines she went to as a kid when she was still in Japan.

Emily wiped sweat from her forehead as she continued on trimming the hedges of roses. Well, she had to make sure that they were cut evenly. It’d look awkward, otherwise.

What should she do with these flowers that had been cut in the process? She'd probably take a few home for herself for a little flower pressing. As for the rest, Emily placed them by the shade, setting them aside for a little offering to the shrine later once she’s done. For now, she continued on trimming those otherwise uncontrolled plants. A little snip here and there --- Voila, perfect.

... now to move on to the next--

She looked around.

Well, this would really take a while indeed. I mean, just look at how far the place stretches out and all that grass she just had to mow.

Oh boy.

---

Emily sighed. She had conveniently borrowed a lawnmower from one of the gardeners (who apparently, hadn't been doing any work) and decided to take the landscaping into her own hands. Well, she wasn't good with leading people (or so she thought), but she gave directions to her fellow landscapers. After all, getting this festival up and running by October was a group effort. Several juniors from 259 had recognized her and started asking her if what they were doing was right and such things like that. Well, Emily had no problem with that. It wasn’t surprising, considering that it was already pretty known that she was a pillar.

… not to mention one of the co-founders of a gang that had more or less been quite prominent in Public High School 259.

She spent 10% of her time looking around and hoping that certain person would pass by. Maybe he wasn’t into this sort of thing? Well, Emily wanted to know… but now wasn’t the time. She continued on pushing against the heavy machine, grass flying on all sorts of directions as she passed by.

Maybe she’ll plant a few flowers tomorrow.

The day was finally over. Pretty uneventful, now that she thought about it. Everyone had left for home already, and there were only just a few more people still within the shrine grounds. With a smile on her face, she lit five sticks of incense, bowing lightly in prayer.
It has been years, has it not?

“I’ve changed for the better, right? …Mama? Papa?”

That question rang on her head, until she finally ended her prayer and offered up the bouquet of roses to the altar. Upon stepping out, she caught a glance of a flowering acacia tree and smiled.

It was raining gold.

[Delilah A. Black]

((If any of this is a problem, please let me know!))

In the meantime....

"Two...urgh....roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry, I could not....Jesusfuckingchrist, this is heavy....travel both."

Delilah had been working on the lighting, the curtains, the fireworks and anything and everything that has to do with wires or an engine since 8AM that morning, all the while, replaying the poems she needed to remember for Monday's English test. So much to do, so little time...thanks goodness Delilah was a master of multitasking.

"And be one traveler....long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could,
To where it bent in the...the...ah, what was it....oh yeah, undergrowth;

Not to mention she was funding the whole damn thing. Not that she minded; Delilah had a lot of extra cash, especially since her company's stock skyrocketed in the last couple weeks. Her financial advisers said that this was a good thing, anyway, and she supposed it was. Her inheritance not only came with 200 million dollars, but a multi billion dollar corporation; every month or so, she'd get close to half a billion dollars, just as a salary.

And it was driving her mad.

The mechanic sighed as she pushed back a loose strand of hair, leaving a streak of grease behind on her forehead. She didn't notice, not that she would care. She sat back and studied her handiwork, still pouring over that accursed poem in her mind.

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same....

Delilah's particular project for the day was rigging the lighting and working on the clay tiles on the roof, where she was situated right now. The lighting was done but would probably need tweaking, and the roof was still only half finished. The half that was done looked pretty good though....it'd better. She'd been at it for six hours already, unpaid. Sighing, she went back to work. Yes, she was volunteering.

Why? Because she had enough money as it was, and it was money she didn't have to work for; She felt like the owner of a sweatshop. Volunteering was her way of escape, keeping her hands busy while her mind wandered. That was part of the reason she got into things like Ninjutsu and mechanics; by the time she was finished an exercise or was done for the day, she felt much more calm and at ease, and felt better about a lot of things that had been bugging her. It was how she'd gotten over the death of her father.

Delilah stopped what she was doing and looked up from her work, her expression clouded. She hadn't thought about her father in a long time...and every time she did, Delilah felt her heart clench. She paused for a moment, then inhaled a deep, shaky breath before setting back to work. It didn't matter anyway; the mechanic tended to keep such thoughts to herself. She doubted even Rem knew about how much her mother's death bothered her, despite the horrible things that woman had done.

Hadn't that been why she left? Why Delilah moved to Long Beach in the first place with only the money she earned herself (her mother refused to give her daughter any money after her fathers death, even for guitar and ninjutsu classes) and lived by herself? Because she knew about the shit her mother had done and couldn't live with the murderous bitch anymore. Delilah knew that while all that was true, it was mostly for freedom. That was what mattered most to her. She wanted to use her wings, and she flew with them, as far away as her half-tank of gas would get her.

A breeze pushed her hair to the left of her face, snapping her out of her reverie.

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.[/i][/color]

She took a moment and closed her eyes, breathing deeply, letting the wind pass through her.

"Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back..."

Heh...truer words were never spoken.

Once the wind had ceased, she went back to work, muttering under her breath as she tried to push the past from her mind.

She couldn't.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Groaning in exasperation, she threw herself backwards, lying against the roof she had freshly patched. She stared harshly at the cloudless sky. What the hell am I complaining about? she thought to herself. I've got a great life...I've got a boyfriend, a good home, friends, a....relatively good school, a guy who thinks of me as a little sister--

But no parents.

Delilah winced at that. Well, no, she didn't have parents...in fact, she didn't have any type of paternal guidance after her fathers' death. But....would she trade her present, her future, for her past?

Knowing the answer to that, Delilah sat back up, smiling, and returned to work. The answer? HELL FREAKEN NO. She had it good, better than most people. And instead of it being handed to her on a silver platter with a gold doily, she had worked for it.

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,

"And that has made all the difference."

[Masaru]

Masaru silently walked toward the shrine, so engrossed in his own thoughts he looked emotionless. Even the other workers tried to avoid him. It had been only several days since Masaru began to see... to see... the past? the future? The images were all mixed up, and were starting to get on Masaru's nerves. Whenever he got near something with a mind of its own, he began to see... multiple Images of the thing in question. Perhaps the images of what the thing was doing... or going to do... as far as Masaru could tell, there was too many images to make sense of. He tried wearing glasses but nothing changed, just made the images worse. This was perhaps an ability of some sort, and he needed to master it or it would soon make him go mad.

"He who controls the past commands the future. He who commands the future conquers the past."

"Knowing others is intelligence; knowing yourself is true wisdom. Mastering others is strength; mastering yourself is true power."

Masaru muttered to himself. Perhaps this was an ability that allowed him to see what someone will do, or may do. Only so many images come up, but always, or mostly, the being would actually follow one of those images and go throughout in one fluid motion... maybe he could see the future, or what could be the near future, but it was only things closer than arms reach that he saw this way.

Ah yes, back to the main subject today. Masaru volunteered to help in this shrine makeover business. Sounded easy enough. Even though he already had excellent grades, Masaru found that school and education seemed to suck the information out of his head, and doing some manual labor might be more fruitful.

"We learn not in the school, but in life."

"The only thing that interferes with my learning is my education."

Masaru mutters. Recently, quotes he read in the past and new wise words seemed to pop into Masaru's head unbidden, and he had no choice but to voice them. A couple of days ago, he seemed to be spouting nonsense that had nothing to do with what he was doing but still wise nevertheless. Now, he seemed to master his mind and spout words that had something to do with what was happening around him.

Now, to look at the list of things to do to help with rebuilding this shrine.


Replace the clay tiles on the roof.

Paint the walls.

Landscaping/Trimming the bushes and mowing the overgrown grass, planting more flowers, etc.

Rake fallen leaves.

Sweep dust-filled floors.

Polish the giant Buddha.

Masaru chose to rake the fallen leaves. In his condition, something like that would probably be best, since he was kind of out of it at the moment, things requiring lots of attention probably wouldn't be a good idea, and Masaru guessed he could use some fresh air.

"Life grants nothing to us mortals without hard work."

Masaru muttered to himself, yet again. Grabbing a rake, he began heading for a secluded area of the shrine grounds, and slowly began to make a pile of leaves, absorbing himself in his own thoughts. Muttering and shuffling, Masaru made his way around the grounds and his pile became outrageously big, since he wasn't paying much attention and didn't really make many small piles. Eventually, neighborhood kids began to show up and watch with silent anticipation as his pile of leaves began to grow. A few hours later, Masaru stood up from his work and realized he made the pile of leaves a little too big. He shrugged, put the rake away, and began to walk off.

Meanwhile, all the neighborhood kids began running and jumping into the huge pile of leaves, laughing and making a mess again. Masaru stared at the kids playing, ruining his work which he spent a whole day to make, and smiled. Even if what he has done here has been destroyed, at least someone has received joy from his work. Walking away from the shrine, Masaru slowly recited one of his favorite quote.

"Take time to think-
It is the source of all power.
Take time to read-
It is the fountain of wisdom.

Take time to play-
It is the source of perpetual youth.
Take time to be quiet-
It is the opportunity to seek God.

Take time to be aware-
It is the opportunity to help others.
Take time to love and be loved-
It is God’s greatest gift.

Take time to laugh-
It is the music of the soul.
Take time to be friendly-
It is the road to happiness.

Take time to dream-
It is what the future is made of.
Take time to pray-
It is the greatest power on earth.

Take time to give-
It is too short a day to be selfish.
Take time to work-
It is the price of success.
There is a time for everything."

as the kid's laughter died off in the background, as the other workers scolded them and made them clean up their mess, Masaru said one last quote before heading home.

"And now, as always, you must remember. THE CAKE IS A LIE!!!"

As Masaru shouted the last words of this, several people nearby began to stare at him like he was some kind of mad man, and continued to stare till he was a safe distance away.

[David B.]

"Wow, this place really needs some work!"

The School Captain approached, a pair of worn work gloves in his right hand and a look of determination on his face. Time was of the essence, and with other people slowly filing in to help bring the work to an end, he needed to make sure his contribution was known. He put on his gloves as a woman approached, her kindly smile giving him a hint that she planned to put the boy to work. He faced her, eyes catching hers as he waited to hear what she had to say, whether he would be piling tiles or painting the building, he would do it all. She turning, handing him a shovel and pointing down the path from which they had walked down, indicating the work he was to be doing had to deal with dirt or cement.

"If you would like to begin digging holes, nine inches deep, that would be great young man. We don't have nearly enough flowers along this trail, and everyone has skipped out on me. Would you mind lending a hand?"

David smiled politely.

"Not at all ma'am, thats why I'm here."

He turned around and began to pound the holes out one at a time, placing his foot on the edge and pressing into the soft ground, lifting a satisfying amount of dirt and grass, just the right amount she needed. He went to the next one, moving right down the line until thirty or so holes were dug, nearly half of them filled with flowers the lady was laying down. He moved over to the other side, but before he could begin digging, heard a shout from behind him. He turned, looking up as men were scrambling to grab a large bag of powdered cement as it fell, aimed straight to crush a small child as it ran by.

David moved quicker than anyone here believed possible, grabbing the kid and turning his back to the cement bag, the weight crashing into him and sliding off to the side. He stood, rolling his shoulders as a guy ran up and thanked him profusely. David smiled and handed the man his kid before turning back to the shovel work, a few men stopping by and giving him a little clap on the back for taking the blow for the little boy. David finished up the holes, setting the shovel against a trihorse so he could wipe away the little bit of sweat that had begun to collect on his forehead.

He grabbed the water-bottle he brought, taking a few long gulps of the ice cold water before turning to a large pile of tiles that were just begging to be put in they're place. David sighed, setting down the water and grabbing hold of a tile plate, walking up the ladder with it and installing it clean in place. A man came over as thought to ask him what he was doing when he realized that David had done a very fine job installing the tile. So, naturally, he turned right around and continued letting the Captain do his work.

It took the better part of an hour to finish up the tiles, but it was time well spent, as it had a drastic change on the overall look of the small building. David admired his work, a small smile on his face. He cleared his throat, setting down the water bottle (now half gone) before turning to a small crew of men who were attempting to install some sort of water fountain, large in size, and obviously heavy, as the men were straining to carry it. David watched them place it over the piping and screw it on, but sighed once more as the men shrugged to one another, as though wondering why it wasn't turning on. David walked over, grabbing a wrench and bending down to screw in a few bolts before gr lever and pulling it.

Water shot through the holes, sputtering a bit before shooting out and overflowing beautifully. David shook a mans hand, the guy looking around afterward and admiring all the work that had gotten done. David hadn't done it all, or even near to all, but he had contributed well and for that alone the man was grateful. David waved goodbye to the man with the kid, before heading off home, grabbing up his water bottle after taking off the now drenched with sweat gloves.

It had been a long hard day, and the the things he had helped to create would probably never be seen by him. David wasn't one for such festivities, never had been.

Everyone had room to change though.

He smiled as he made the long march home, happy with his work for the day

[Rem]

"Ahhhhhh, natsukashii..."

A wave of unbridled nostalgia hit Rem hard as he came upon the shrine grounds. Tons of memories flew through his mind: his very first visit to a shrine as a child, and then on every New Year ever since.

This setting had been the backdrop for many a landmark occasion for the Japanese youth. He'd had his first kiss here, groped his first boob here, eaten his first takoyaki (octopus ball) here, even lost his virginity here. The Gods were sure to either punish him for his blasphemy or give him a thumbs up for getting some. Judging the path his life had taken, it was safe to assume they'd done the latter. Rem shivered slightly and rubbed his nose as he remembered exactly how cold a night that had been.

Well, now wasn't exactly the time to be having such thoughts. He'd heard about the initiative to clean this place up for the festival, and so out of a sense of duty and Japanese pride, and by that I mean being forced to do it by Delilah, Rem decided to lend a hand.

Grabbing a broom from a shed near the back of the place, the diminutive youth set to work, taking his time sweeping the floors in the main building. Work like this made him feel a bit homesick, as it reminded him of clean-up duty back at Nakaoka Municipal High School. Of course, he'd constantly use the excuse of having club meetings to get out of it; that is, until the class representative found out through the grapevine that Rem Aoyama hadn't signed up for any extra-curricular activities since his freshman year. Boy, was she mad. Ironically, she was also the first groping victim, AND the his first sexual encounter, not that she'd complained much.

The sweeping led Rem further into the shrine's interior, sliding doors open just for old times' sake and having a violent coughing fit when the dust that had settled in the room exploded into the air as a result. One would think he'd have learned after the first try, but Rem Aoyama was a tenacious little bastard, going about it with much gusto, even though he threatened to inhale more dust than he'd actually swept.

"Kimono..."

His little scavenger hunt for nothing had rooted out an old kimono, still wrapped in plastic. It was a novelty kimono, of course, but what startled Rem about it was its design. He'd seen this particular designed kimono long ago. It was when Emily had first come to live with them. Rem chuckled as he remembered how mean he'd been to her initially, telling her that she'd become fat if she kept eating tamago sushi (her favorite dish) as much as she did. Telling her that the kimono looked ugly on her, and other such childish things. In retrospect, she did look pretty cute in them. Now, she'd probably be quite the stunner in them.

Good times.

Discarding the kimono back into the straw chest he'd found it in, Rem went back to his initial task, sweeping. Thinking back to the good old days also brought with it some hard times as well. He could vaguely remember what the orphange he'd been in was like. It seemed so very long ago. He could, however, remember the day his parents adopted him. He remembered them being so tall (obviously because Rem himself was a tiny kid), and he was frightened of them initially because of it, but as soon as the woman who'd become his mother swept him into her arms in a tight, loving embrace, all fears dissipated immediately. They were good people and they loved him as though he was their own. Screw that. He WAS their own. When they'd died, he'd lost his way. Emily was taken by the children's services, and he was left on his own to fend for himself.

...and here he was.

Rem flicked the last bit of dust out into the courtyard. Whoever's job it was to sweep there would have a nasty little surprise waiting for him/her at the bottom of the building's front steps. Dropping the broom back into the tool shed, Rem made his way back toward the front, thinking about lighting incense and saying a prayer for his parents. However, someone was already occupying the place; and who else, but his little sister Emily. He stayed a few paces back, observing her.

"I’ve changed for the better, right? …Mama? Papa?"

Rem smiled and shuffled away before Emily could notice him, stuffing his hands into his pockets and glancing up into the sky. There was no need to feel down about anything. Rem had a great girlfriend and had mellowed quite a bit, Emily was doing very well for herself; their parents had done right by them, and for that, he was sure they were proudly looking down on them.

["Unfettered"]

A Funny People, The Japanese...

Sweat.

Quite the refreshing change, actually.

There was "Unfettered", crouching with blue jeans on. Apparently, today was going to be... especially hot. Humidity had decidedly risen, and it was quite nice to not be so uptight with his clothing all the time. Jeans with a small, torn hole on the right knee, an actual real belt, some old sneaker's he'd found in his restaurant's old "Lost & Found", before it was forced to shut down a few months ago. His hair was tightly bound with a black unisex hair tie, just at his neck, giving his Nazi eye-patch the room it needed to make "Unfettered's" coworkers a bit uncomfortable. But there was no dress code, hence why many of the volunteer workers here, including "Unfettered", were all shirtless.

Decidedly, their division was working on creating the little shop stands. There was the situation of having to clear the area of debris, polishing up the nearby statues, hanging up decorations, trimming all nearby bushes and grasses... and possibly work their way in, and get to work on polishing all other bits and pieces, repairing bits here and there. A lot of work was already being done inside, and even on the roof already, but there was word of a girl falling off, and nearly dying. Since then, repairs were finished up---but in that section only. There was a lot of work to be done.

...You'd be hard-put to find "Unfettered" looking anymore happier or enthusiastic than in this point of time.

"Alright! Let's get this place swept clean! Nathan, Kyle, Justin, Michael, "Unfettered", John, Ed, Chris, Will, Drevin, Blake, and Phillip, he are the bags, and here are the rakes. Let's set the time to thirty minutes... GO!"

Some looked just as enthusiastic as their coordinator, while others were more sloth to the uptake, but "Unfettered" was among the first to step, almost forcefully grabbing a bag, a broom, dustpan, and a rake.

First, the tiles.

Steadily keeping rake and plastic bag off to the side, he started off in a corner, making quick, staccato steps to go with fast-paced beat of his sweeps, garnering some odd stares, and a few laughs from his coworkers, but the energy was raised, and there was even some 'dust-sweeping' contests. What stirred some interest in the 'idiot' who was working so enthusiastically, was the way in which he gathered the dust into large mounds, side-stepping to do so, and in a violently gentle manner, made it work, by slipping the every dust speck along with every stray leaf and whatever else debris could be gathered into it, before quickly wasting what appeared to be excess energy in pushing it all into the dustpan. Filled, he'd use this to practically race (though, slow enough so as not to spill out the dust, back to the black plastic bag, before full-out running, broom in hand, back to his position, to move the mound onward, to collect more trash and dust to make it sizable again. The way in which he went about it was almost zen-like. The repetitiveness---the fact that all the dusting of the area ended four-minutes short of their target time almost made "Unfettered" reluctant.

But this is where the 'raking' came in.

"Play zat funkeh muzik!"

Practically throwing his broom and dustpan back to where they came from, smiling, running at full-speed, thrusting his rake forward, before jumping after it, much akin to the style of a pole jumper, straight into the dirt. Sweat pounded down his whole body. Giving a quick swipe to his forehead, leaving a few scratch marks, he grinned, looking up, and laughing with his fellow coworkers. They all knew at this point what was going to happen. Grass, dirt, and weeds were flying into the air, as the roar of lawnmowers came from behind. Perplexed, the German looked behind him to see his comrades deciding to make a little game out of this. A devilish smile whipped to his face, as he nodded, working even harder, as they slowly pushed, almost as if to threaten him being mowed down with the grass. They started going a bit faster, which riled up some extra panic and adrenaline.

...Three minutes to the target time.

"ALRIGHT! Let's get these stands... STOOD!"

Painful groans ensued, but the German decidedly let off no emotions. What he did do was head off in a light jog to the truck, to grab some planks of wood, along with the rest. But he large mound of wood he took was, while not difficult to pick up one by-one, requiring the aid of others. However, even as Blake went on to grab the other end, the German went at a pace that was nothing short of hazardous. But it was due to this speed, drop off, and watching the others get to work, that he avoided participating in screwing the boards together, a talent of his that was in heavy need of refinement. Always, running at a dangerous speed, considering the work going on about them, accompanied by someone else who had to jog with him, as they toted back more wood to the area. This continued on for about sixty-seven minutes, followed by a quick break for water, soda, and some donated sandwiches.

Just a lot of work. And still so much to do. Smiling, as the German went and bolted his food, he grabbed an extra bottle of water and a fresh loaf of bread in his mouth, and hurried onto the ladders.

"Beschäftigen, beschäftigen, beschäftigen." he muttered in a delighted, but quiet undertone.

OOC: Note: This post is currently 996 words long, but is incomplete. If permitted, I will continue work on this when I get back, but if not, then please assume that he went onto do his other tasks. This OOC notice takes up 60~ words. The prelude before the actual post-work takes up about 200, leaving still a rather solid 730~ of actual post-work.

[narakunohana]

Bastille - 864 words
Haruka - 710 words
Fontes - 823 words
Joust - 1,262 words
Wanderer - 995 words
Gabriel - 819 words
Emily - 711 words
Delilah - 905 words
Masaru - 905 words
David - 801 words
Rem - 817 words
"Unfettered" - 996 words

Congratulations!
You all receive 3 experience points for your hard work.
Well done!

Sorry to those who wanted to join but didn't make it. I did say I will extend for no one -- will have to stand by my word, just to be fair to everyone who has posted on time.