Welcome to Gaia! ::

Preacher tapped her lip. "Innit he a lil young to be field marshal?" Her next comment was cut off as someone approached. He? Adopt her? What nonsense! Preacher had never know her parents, but she had got along just fine. Well, as fine as could be expected in the Eastern Alleyway. It was the worst slum, and if you lived there, you died there. It was a truth as unchangeable as the walls. She rolled her shoulders, suddenly uncomfortable.

Turning, she saw the man Lloren was speaking to as well as the retreating form of Axel. Her mouth twisted. Preacher wasn't ashamed of her lack of parentage, but to have Mr. High-n-Mighty hear was unbearable somehow. Angry, she pulled a ruing out of one of her pockets and pinged it directly at the insufferable man's blond head. It served him right, skulking about. Quickly, she darted into the tent itself. Might as well get a good look at the loud adopter, she reasoned. Also, Axel would be less likely to seek her in retaliation, she hoped.

"Hullo," she called out loudly and cheekily. "Whats this 'bout adoptin' brats?'

Shakuntala squawked like a chicken who just found out she would be that evening's dinner. All red alarms were blaring in her head with one message: Get the hell out of there. Right. Now. The girl took a step back with the intention of doing just so, but a wringing her in gut said otherwise. Scrunching her eyes in determination, the girl clasped a hand onto the rope about the horse. Yet, her little arm strength caused her to be pulled along with the animal.

Yanking back on the rope with what energy she did have, she pleaded, "P-Please, c-calm down... You'll- The tent... The tent'll fall!" She even raised a cry in both warning and help, but knowing the timbre of her own voice, she may not have been heard.

Mythee

There was a question in the trainee's eyes directed at the blonde boy hovering a little close to Preacher and herself, though a curious pinched smile never left her lips. Suddenly he spoke up and abruptly stomped away, which kind of made him more suspicious. She'd try to keep an eye on him, though it was really someone else she ought to have been worrying about. Not that Lloren would know; with the influx of volunteers hardly ebbing, she hadn't had the time to read the list of banquet suspects.

Turning back to the Alec, Lloren tilted her head, arms crossed. "Huh, it doesn't match up. Wonder what that other guy was going on about then." Perplexing. She wanted to turn back and shout guess again! at the mistaken guy. Alas, other tasks to attend to.

"Welll, today what you see is all that's going on, but tomorrow all volunteers can come back to this building if they wish to. They'll be tested on various roles as a group, so that we don't get pelvic thrust dancers, screeching lute players and other delights on the day of the parade. After which they'll be assigned a position in the parade! Though if you want to stay on security during the event, that's up to you. Otherwise there's space in the ox carts for people to toss up flower petals, the costume dancers, musicians, people are needed to pull the barges and uhh... the show horses all have riders, unless you plan on contributing a horse. You can also bring your family's ox cart if you have one."

She tapped the edge of a booklet, scribbled some stuff down and tore off a page. "Otherwise, maybe if your friend goes to the breeders on this list supplying the survey corps, they'll be able to take over the riding in exchange for some help in their stables. All they want is to show the horse, after all, not spend all day parading themselves around."

Lloren glanced back at Preacher who'd been tapping their lip (His? Her? The trainee couldn't tell so far, but didn't concern herself overmuch. Genders could cease to exist as far as she cared.) Good, at least they didn't seem offended. "Oh that's field marshal as in parade field marshal, different from an actualfield marshal. It's a temporary ro- wait! You're not allowed to go insiiide- ahh, too late." She sighed, they were gone.

And then her attention was drawn by a small scream from the back corner of the tent. The structure was leaning dangerously to one side. Lloren paled. "DIVE FOR COVER!" She screamed, toppling over her own desk and the files atop it in the process of getting out from underneath.

For a second, the horse stopped moving. Shakuntala's hand on his reigns gave him the false impression that she'd free him from the oncoming disaster. A whole second passed and she hadn't moved to unhinge it, so Drakon resumed his struggle with all of the equine ferocity he could muster. Shakuntala's nervous pleas and yank only convinced the horse that there was more reason to fear the evil leaning tent.

With a final tug, the tentpole was yanked up and free from the ground. It flew up almost in slow motion, reached a horizontal somewhere at the height of the tent, and fell back down in a series of metal clangs- dragging the tent down with it in a flurry of papers being blown away and clouds of dust being lifted.

The horse whinnied, doubly terrified, and proceeded to keep on running- dragging Shakuntala, the tent and some of its contents farther along until it got stuck on some things. And people.

Totally professional event related thing:

Stuff is arranged sort of like this. Try to embellish this awful doodle with your imagination. XD



Discarded Costume

Let's March!
Username: Hitsuzen
Character: Deacon Prevost

After watching the preparations from afar for a little while, Deacon decided he might as well volunteer to lend a hand. He didn't have much else to do, other than having a look at the booths that were set up. Surely there was still plenty of time to do that. Seeing others come and go from the tented area that was set up, he made his way over to inquire.

After the general meet and greet with the seated trainee, Deacon looked over the jobs in need of help and gestured to the sketch of people pulling the decorated barges. "Best place for me to assist, I'd think." He could pull his weight as just as well - or, better - than the next guy. The list of volunteers seemed plentiful, and he'd passed several people outside.

Nobody was going to see him in a stupid costume if he could help it... Hopefully he didn't have to be dressed in something ridiculous to do the job.

And then a horse ran off with the tent and he just kinda watched it go in confusion. "Or I could try to help you catch your horse?"

Let's March!
Username: Krysin
Character: Sebastian Schneider

"What did you do?" the voice was dark, with a tinge of horror and disappointment. Bas had been enjoying his day, idly checking out the preparations for the parade when by chance he started talking to the girl handling volunteering. He had absolutely zero interest in helping out for free, if money was being offered, then sure, he'd jump in on it. But, there was no cash, so there was no way he'd offer himself up as a volunteer. Coincidentally, somehow his name was magically on the list, right after a certain 'Elliot Lindstrom'.

Bas had come up behind his friend, a heavy hand clasping the other boy's shoulder. He didn't even the gathered group a polite 'hello' yet. Bas was too busy deciding between kicking his friend's a** or running for the hills. It was too late to save himself from volunteering - he had been conned, trapped, by the one person he had trusted the most. "After all I've done for you've signed me up for this s**t!?"

He wasn't truly angry, more aghast with his current situation than anything else.

Shun felt a bit of relief when Preacher didn't attempt to pry on the matter. The details revolving his old gang were not something he really wished to discuss in public. He turned away, ready to move on elsewhere for the time being, but he soon heard a number of shouts in the vicinity. Along with what sounded like a very distressed horse.

He turned just in time to see the horse running away with Shakuntala, as well as the tent and a few other things.

"..."

Something had to have spooked the creature, though he couldn't tell what exactly at this point.

"How many other disasters are going to happen in this festival?" he uttered, shaking his head.