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pheonixwaves (pheonixwaves) wrote in halcyon_halls,
@ 2008-09-18 18:15:00

Entry tags:

ita, sasha

Week 18: Wednesday
Who: Sasha and Ita
Where: In the marketplace
What: Lammas celebration awesomeness
When: Afternoon

Ita was feeling much better today. Catalina seemed like she really was going to make sure that asshole Caibre got what he deserved, which was a relief. She really didn't know how things would have turned out if she had tried to drown him. She was used to fighting with her fists, and even then, she hadn't done that since middle school when everyone started getting bigger than she was. And if Caibre ever got ahold of her, she was doomed. She definitely couldn't best him physically.

Aside from all of that, there was a festival for food! Ok, so harvest, but that was food. All the wonderful fresh produce, and herbs... And even some nifty cooking supplies. Ita had really gotten into it earlier and she already had several bags - one was filled with hand-dipped tapers and they smelled wonderful. It was a cute little stand, with big wax bins so she'd even tried her hand at it. Her attempt was not nearly as pretty, but it was still fun. Oh, and she'd gotten a pretty hand-carved mortar and pestel to grind her own herbs since she'd bought several bunches of fresh and dried herbs. Then there were the pretty crafts, including several jeweler's stands. She couldn't resist a pretty pair of drop earrings with freshwater pearls.

So, not even halfway through the festival, she really had quite a bit of shopping completed. And that wasn't even counting all the cool stands, just like at a carnival or a county fair. She had loved fair time in Maine - tractor pulls, petting zoos, all the crafts, and, of course, the food. This was very similar, but more... Well, just more. The fairs were more modernized, maybe. The crazy carnival rides and all. This seemed much less glitz, and so much more wholesome. She had to chuckle at that - more wholesome with demons, weres and other odd creatures running about. Apparently. Amused with her mental meanderings, she nearly missed spotting a familiar face. "Sasha!" she called out as she rushed over to her friend, bags bumping into passersby.

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vintage_fraud
2008-09-19 07:18 am UTC (link)

Laughter is brightest, in the place where the food is, one witch told Sasha once upon a time. Years later, Sasha had yet to find the proverb false. All around her folk were swallowing mirth and gingerbread, scattering crumbs of laughter and sharing cider. People were literarily putting pieces of food in each other’s mouths, each gesture an unspoken blessing.

When the Christian religion adopted the god Lugh’s funeral games and theme, they called it “Lammas”—loaf-mass—for the time when newly baked loaves were placed upon the altar. The witch hadn’t told her that part; Josiah did. He found such exchanges amusing. He thought the witch amusing, too; she kept him company for nearly two months, a respectable record by the alchemist’s standards. She’d been a lovely, vivacious woman with expressive hands and a remarkable sensitivity for geomancy. Not the brightest of Josiah’s amours, but very likeable. She called Sasha mon mignon and ma mie, and Sasha had allowed it. Then one morning she was gone without warning, without a goodbye, most likely also without a chance to give the latter or digest the former.

Oh, well. She made a lovely memory, too.

Dreizen cavorted beside her, the big animal playful as a puppy. He’d just finished decimating a mislaid corn dolly and was clearly in high spirits. Truth be told, Sasha was feeling pretty chipper herself. The unsettling restlessness plaguing her week was suspended; she felt light and keyed up. Her clothing advertised the mood change: a pomegranate shirt dress, its ruffles lying sweetly against her collarbone, festive shoes, candy-bright lips.

The fleeting perfume of basil made her stomach rumble inaudibly. God, she was starving. Whether it was leftover stress from the rain or the unending humidity, Sasha’s appetite had become monstrous over the past couple of days. She’d already polished off a roasted turkey leg stuffed with mustard and herbs, all but licking the succulent juice off her fingers. Then came the sweet onion relish (jazzed with—yum, yum—red pepper flakes) and hot, crusty bread, roast figs and fall-apart-tender braised pork belly, and, surprisingly, a plate of black pudding. Odd, that: the spicy, boiled sausage wasn’t normally something Sasha enjoyed. She made a mental note to find the local recipe. It was uncommonly good: spiced with rosemary and clove, each rich, beefy bite seemed to raise her red blood cell count. Dreizen snapped up a piece of the sausage with matching pleasure.

Intend on her treat, Sasha nearly missed the sound of her name. Dizzy, however, was more attentive; the Doberman suddenly dug his heels into the ground, yanking on the leash joining them.

“Dizzy, what is—Ita!” The enthusiasm in her voice was sincere. She’d been hoping to run into the other girl and apologize for missing the cooking club meeting. “I’d ask what you’re doing here, but those bags say plenty. Wooing bargains out of helpless locals, are we?”

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pheonixwaves
2008-09-19 11:01 am UTC (link)

"Oh, isn't it wonderful? All the fresh foods and produce, and the little crafts - you should see what I found!" Before she could take her through all the wonderful treasures she'd found, she through her arms around her friend, bags and all, giving her a bit of a squeeze. Then she knelt down to pet the beast of a dog, and was rewarded with a slobbering face wash. "Awww..." she said, giving the 'pup' a good rub down. "I didn't know you had a dog. What's his name?"

Standing up again, she brushed the dirt off her knees and used her loose shirt to wipe the slobber off her face. "Did you find anything you liked here?" Pausing, Ita looked over her friend. "You know, you always look so pretty. Classy, I think," she added with a smile. Ita was dressed in her usual attire - gauzy peasant style shirt, this one with long, bell-style sleeves, and a pair of faded jeans, her feet clad in a pair of birkes. Her long hair was loose and blowing gently in the fall breeze.

"What do you say we head over that way?" she asked, ready to continue her adventure. "Have you been over there, yet? Cuz I haven't," she gestured toward their right, down another lane of stalls.

	silvermoonlady 2008-10-05 06:24 pm UTC (link)
	[Ok to end this one here? It's a good wrap up.] (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	vintage_fraud 2008-10-06 06:47 am UTC (link)
	(Yeah, that's all ~~she~~ they wrote. From there on in, it's just two gluttons with a dog and an inability to avoid a bargain.) (Reply to this) (Parent)