Welcome to Gaia! ::

.:Abandoned Produce:.

Maxwell Peace was used to finding unusual things left on his doorstep. Usually these things took the shape of animals, often abandoned or injured. He was used to it, and he didn't have the heart to turn away a creature in need. Sometimes people would leave him little gifts. Fresh eggs or milk or produce. But a cabbage in the middle of winter? A cabbage with a perplexing letter pinned to one of it's giant leaves. What could it possibly mean?

Setting the huge leafy green vegetable on his kitchen table, he unpinned the letter and read it. Then he read it again. Then he frowned in confusion and read it one more time.

Dear Mister Peace,
I know that you take in animals and things. Will you please take care of this cabbage for me? It's not that I dont want it, but I cant take care of it and I know you will love it like you love all your animals. It's called Darsh and it is very special. I'm sorry I cant take care of it but I know you will do a good job. Thank you.

The handwriting was hastily scrawled and clearly female, there was no address or phone number or name. Scratching his head, he studied the cabbage. A vegetable named Darsh? Didn't make much sense to him. But he supposed he could take care of it. His sense of honor prevented him even thinking about turning the thing into salad. But what did it mean? Picking it up, he carried it out to the barn where his sister was busily up to her elbows in clay.

"Em?" He asked, knocking politely on the huge barn door. They shared the farm and for the most part got along very well, mostly because they had no real boundaries and managed to more or less respect each other's space. The thick, sweet smell of marijuana filled the air and Max felt his head start to buzz with a mild contact high.

"Hmm?" Emmaline Peace asked, not looking up from her work. Today she was sculpting. The subject of the piece was the Fall of Noah, in which a thousand little clay animals fled from a sinking ark. It was a commentary piece which was her favorite kind.

"Take a look at this." He said, walking over to her and holding the letter up so she could read it without touching it.

"Huh." She mouthed the words as she read the letter. "Hey, is that the cabbage?"

He set it down on the edge of her worktable where it wouldn't get dirty and nodded. "Yep, thats it. Dogs and cats and birds and stuff I get. But a cabbage?"

Em thoughtfully regarded it, rolling a small ball of clay between her palms. It was amazing the way she could create such lifelike things out of such simple materials. Her special talent, she called it. Just like he had a special knack for nurturing and healing animals. "You know..." She began as a lion head began to form from the little ball of clay. "Theres a lab somewhere in Gaia that bio-engineers kids." She made a little face. The Peace siblings were pro-science but anti-designer-kids. "The kids come out of these huge cabbages. Maybe it's one of those?"

Max's eyes widened. That... seemed like a very likely explanation. "A kid, huh. Named Darsh, apparently. Could be... could be."

Grinning, Em stuck the lion head to the already sculpted body. It's jaws were gaping, prepared for the tiny sculpted human arm that she was planning to put in it's mouth. "Looks like you're gonna be a daddy. Or you could always just take it back." She knew Max would never do such a thing. Someone had placed this thing in his care, he wouldn't violate that trust. It just wasn't in him.

"Looks like you're gonna be an auntie." Max shot back at her, feeling a little giddy. Kids had once been a part of his life plan. When he'd been working for corporate Gaia and had a fiancee and spent his money frivolously. Before. But since Shelly had shown her true side? Since the engagement had been broken off? Since he'd quit his high-powered job and traded his lavish life for one of simplicity and goodness? He'd never figured he'd have the chance for kids. But now, he'd been given that chance again. It was... it was... "This is kinda cool." Max finished, a grin creeping across his face. "This is actually really cool."

.:Road Trip:.

"Maaaax!" The shout came impatiently from the barn all the way to the house. "Max! Are you packed! Is the van ready?" A moment later the impatient shout was followed up with the small dirty figure of Emmaline stomping barefoot into the living room.

Max was in the process of putting food in a cooler. Pre-boiled garbanzo beans for hummus, fresh lamb and a variety of spices and herbs and vegetables. "I've almost got it all..." He muttered. "The van should be ready. Make sure Ace's bed is set up in the back." Ace was the oldest of Max's rescue dogs. She was also the first. They never went to the First People gathering without her.

Indeed, it was Emmaline who had begun attending the gatherings. Thousands of like-minded earth-centered people getting together in forests and fields for dancing and cooking and singing and smoking. There were always amazing crafts to be bartered and Em usually made off like a bandit with her handmade pottery and wooden bowls. It was a long weekend that the siblings looked forward to every year.

Closing the cooler, Max took a step back and surveyed the pile of stuff they had to load. Simplicity was the order of the day, but with two people, a dog and a cabbage along with all of Em's tradeable goods and enough food to feed an army (since they cooked for whoever wanted to come and eat at their fire) it ended up being enough to make the old VW very crowded. With a sigh, he grabbed the cooler. "Lets load up, then."

Together, the siblings carried their things to the brightly painted van (courtesy of Em) which read on the side in bold psychedelic lettering "Twins of Peace". She'd thought it terribly clever and by now they'd attending this gathering so often that people knew to look for their van for some of the best food and tradeable goods. "Looks good to me." Em said, shoving the last box inside. Most people didn't bring nearly this much stuff. But for the cooking, they could narrow it down to a single pup-tent and a change of clothing apeice.

"Don't forget Darsh!" Max remembered, rushing back into the house to grab the cabbage. Em rolled her eyes but Max mock-smacked her across the head. "Now this is little Darshie's very first gathering. So what if he hasn't been born yet? It's important to teach children about community and bartering and world peace." He admonished his sister.

"Just wait until he pops out of that greenhouse." Em said with a smirk, getting behind the wheel of the van while Max buckled himself into the passenger seat. "Hey! Wouldn't it be cool if it happened at the gathering?"

"Yeah..." There was a slightly worried frown. "But we're not in one of the kid friendly camps."

"Oh pshaw. If it really matters that much, we can get a place in one of the kid friendly camps next year." Em was not likely to actually go for this, though. The kid friendly camps were no drugs, no alcohol. And Em firmly believed in both drugs and alcohol as a necessity at a gathering.

"Right. Next year." Max felt a wave of terror and excitement build in his gut as he clutched at the cabbage. Shelly had never really wanted children even though Max had. That had been one of the things they'd fought about. Constantly. She said they were too busy, that their careers would suffer. It wasn't the only thing that had torn apart their relationship, but it had contributed. Mostly it had been the fact that Shelly was money-hungry. Max himself had thought he was like that too. Desperate to get ahead. To claw his way up to that next promotion. That next pay-grade. It's what his parents had expected. It's what Shelly had expected. He'd been terrified of ending up like his sister, the free-spirited black-sheep of the family. It hadn't been until after the disaster, after the engagement was called off and after he began getting to know Em again that he realized that she had it right.

Not so much the smoking weed all day and doing nothing. It was the fact that what she did fulfilled her. It nourished her soul. Sculpting and painting and throwing bowls and woodworking. It was what she loved and Max, in all his life, couldn't remember having ever felt that kind of passion. Ever.

It hadn't really been easy, throwing off all those social expectations and going to live on a farm in the woods with Emmaline. But once he realized that, little by little in his day to day life he was making the world a better place a strong sense of peace and satisfaction settled over him. He built houses with local volunteer groups. He worked at the shelter. He took in animals. He'd even gone back to school to get his vetrinary degree though he didn't open a formal practice.

The only thing that left him feeling void was not having kids. But as time had passed that urge had subsided. He'd made his dogs and cats his children and his life had continued to be happy and fulfilled. Until now. Until that cabbage got dumped on his doorstep. Now a whole new world of bright possibilities had opened up.

"If the kid comes out at the Gathering, we can have a big naming ceremony and everything!" Em chattered on, oblivious to her brother's internal monologuing.

"He already has a name." Max said distractedly.

"Just one, though. We'll call him by that, of course. But what about something like Darsh Rainbow Moonsong?" Thats got a pretty sound to it.

Max choked back his laughter. Em always did get just a little more into the whole hippy feel of things than he did.

"What?" She asked defensively, throwing a shoe across the car at him.

"Nothing, nothing... We'll talk about it, eh?" He was still chuckling to himself as they sped down the highway.

.:RP Log:.

Where the path leads - Darsh and Dawn

.:Contact High:.

The bedroom was pretty awesome, Darsh thought to himself as he lay on his back staring up at the ceiling. Brightly colored swathes of fabric were draped from a centerpoint in the ceiling to the wall, and then hanging down. Giving the room the illusion of being a tent. And Emma had sewn little mirrored bangals - like the kind women put on their dresses - into some of the ceiling fabric too so that it sparkled like stars. Darsh didn't mind that a lot of the fabric was hand-me-down or had strange, mismatching patterns on them. The green and gold paisley was next to the salmon pink polyester which was next to a dark blue organza with little gold stars sewn into it. And on and on it went so that his bedroom was a circus of colored fabric. Darsh thought it was the most wonderful thing he'd ever seen.

There was a little Darsh-sized table and a chair in the corner of plain wood. Emma had left some paints and brushes with him so that when he felt like it he could paint the table and chairs himself. Had she been a more responsible adult, she might have stipulated that he take the furniture outside before painting it. Or she might have mentioned what she'd done to Maxwell so that he could supervise. But Emma was Emma. She'd shown him what to do while lighting up a joint. The contact high had made Darsh feel fuzzy, even with the windows open. So after she'd left he'd gotten into the bed for a little while to drift off and stare at his new ceiling.

His head was feeling a little less floaty, but he decided that he was, definitely, hungry. Climbing out of bed, Darsh peeked through the beaded curtain that served currently as his bedroom door. There was really no reason whatsoever for him to feel like playing spy and letting nobody see him. But his head still felt a little soft and pillowy and it seemed like a good idea at the time. Nobody was in the kitchen.

"Yum." Muttered Darsh, his tiny blue fingers just barely enough to reach the top of the counters where all sorts of tasty smells were coming from. He hauled a stepstool over and then observed the bounty. "Yummmm." Dark little hands reached for the half-loaf of fresh baked bread. The hands also reached for the stone crock of fresh butter that some neighbor had brought by. He dipped a finger into it and his eyes lit up with suprise. Oh! That was good. It was rich and sweet and wonderful. Taking the bread and the entire crock of butter, he trundled back up to his room.

"Oh, God, MAX!" Emmaline was shrieking so helplessly with laughter an hour later that she could barely shout for her brother. "C'mere! You HAVE to see this!" She doubled over, mirthful tears streaming from her eyes.

"What on earth - " Max peered behind her through the gap into the beaded curtain and snorted, half with amusement and half with dismay. It appeared that Darsh had made an attempt to paint the table and the chair. It also appeared that his hand-eye coordination needed some serious work.

The little boy was sprawled out on his bed fast asleep, his body covered in smears of brightly colored (and thankfully water-soluble) paint. Very little had made it onto the table and chair, most of the paint was on the boy. The butter crock was broken and empty on the floor and there was a sort of greasy shine to Darsh's fingers and lips.

Maxwell Peace let out a long, belabored sigh. "Emma, you know I love you. But if you smoke around the baby again, I think I'm going to have to kill you."

.:RP Log:.

Craft Fair: Meet your team! - Group RP!

.:Barn Burning:.

Maxwell Peace and his son Darsh were on their way home from the park when they saw it. A fire-limned meteor streaking through the sky, straight for their property.

"Is it a shooting-star, Daddy?" Darsh asked, pressing a small hand to the window and leaving a green streak of paint on the glass.

"I don't think so, kiddo. But make a wish anyways." Frowning despite the lightness of his tone, Max stepped on the gas and sped up. They were just pulling onto the long, straight drive that led to the farmhouse when the meteor struck the barn. There was, well, not quite an explosion but certainly a calamitous noise as half the barn was sheared away and a rain of burning rubble and bits of pottery fell on the car. Max jerked to a stop while Darsh, getting over the initial shock of the hit, began to cry.

"Oh, god... Emma! Darsh, you stay here." Max ordered, jumping out of the car and running heedlessly toward the barn. "Emma!" His sister spent most of her time in that barn, it was where she worked. Though not a particularly prayerful man, Max found himself begging whatever higher power was up there that Emma was alive and unhurt. "Emma!" He cried again as he started to pick his way through the crater that had once been half a barn. The other half, somehow, was untouched.

"Max!" The answering call was interrupted by a fit of coughing. The dusty haze started to lift enough for Max to make out his sister's outline, whole and safe.

"Emma! You're alright!" He picked his way towards her as she stumbled towards him and they embraced somewhere in the middle of the wreckage. "What happened?"

"I was just rolling a joint and then it... something..." The brunette shook her head helplessly. "I thought maybe there was something wrong with my weed."

"We saw it coming. A meteor or something." He hugged his sister tightly and then surveyed the disaster area. "I don't know how it did that. Destroyed half the barn and left the other half in tact."

"It destroyed the half with my kiln." Emma said wryly. "I'm going to have to replace it. Which isn't such a big deal, but all the work I was firing!" She let out a big sigh. It was lucky that she didn't actually do the work out of necessity, both Max and Emma being trust fund babies. Rather, she did it because she enjoyed getting stoned and working with her hands. Creative expression.

"Daddy?" A tiny hand tugged at Max's shirt and he looked down. A paint-covered tear-streaked little face looked back up at him. "Daddy, s'that?" Darsh pointed towards the vehicle for this mess, nestled in the center of the crater. It was smooth and egg-shaped and had probably been white once, before it had come hurtling through the atmosphere to set their barn on fire.

"Huh..." Emma said, picking her way towards it. Max hefted Darsh into his arms and followed. "Theres a... door?" She was poking at the thing curiously. "See? Here. A seam."

"I don't think you should mess with that." Max replied, his brow furrowed. But it was too late. It always seemed to be too late. With a hissing sound of release, the door slid open and a white dry-ice fog drifted from the container. Emma was leaning over, sticking her head inside. "Emma, I really don't think you should do that."

"Max!" She ignored him completely. "Oh, Max, look what I found!" Reaching into the pod she withdrew a slate-blue lump with a shock of pink on it's head. The lump stirred and an eye opened in it's face. "Isn't he precious?"

Max opened his mouth to respond when the world seemed to shift. His brain itched and his scalp tingled. And then the sensation was gone as if it had never been at all. The one-eyed pink-haired baby frowned in what could only be the deepest of displeasure. Then it opened it's mouth and let out an ear-shattering wail.

"Well, kiddo." He said to Darsh, who was making a face and covering his ears. "It looks like you've got a brother. Or something."

.:RP Log:.

Trouble in the kiddie pool - Darsh and Vox

.:RP log:.

Arts and Crafts: Meet your team! - part two of the craft fair