The Produce Fair Opening (OPEN)
Jul 13, 2012 10:34:30 GMT -5
Post by kneedles on Jul 13, 2012 10:34:30 GMT -5
District 10 Produce Fair Timetable of events
9am: Official Opening (grandstand).
9.15 am-8:30 pm: Individual Booths and Stalls
(throughout the day)
11am- Open Horse Show
Midday- Pie eating contest/ Food tent opens.
1pm- Open Beef Show
3pm- Open Pig Show
5pm- Mr &Miss District 10
6pm-8pm- Barn Dance
9pm- Go away.
[/size][/center]9.15 am-8:30 pm: Individual Booths and Stalls
(throughout the day)
11am- Open Horse Show
Midday- Pie eating contest/ Food tent opens.
1pm- Open Beef Show
3pm- Open Pig Show
5pm- Mr &Miss District 10
6pm-8pm- Barn Dance
9pm- Go away.
((ooc guidelines for a happy day at the fair: the Official Opening/general fairground thread is here for one and all to roleplay/mingle in the general area of where the fair is taking place- so feel free to post reactions/ start interaction whatever you like!
To anyone who has a booth/ wants to run any roleplay from it setting up a new thread is totally fine and indeed encouraged- perhaps neighbouring booths can set up threads together for extra roleplay funtimes.
One thing I will say is that, in the spirit of the day- which is above all to foster a greater sense of community in D10- I would like it if all posts in and around the fair could be marked as such somewhere in the title-‘ this is a title (f) ’ for example and will realistically be OPEN to anyone who wants to join in- within reason of course.
Apart from that, the only limit is your imagination- and the Produce Fair Committee’s Budget, which is meagre to say the least. So let’s have fun and eat too much cotton candy…I’m kidding-we can’t afford cotton candy >.>))
________________________________________
From ominous heavy grey clouds in the distance, a slow rumble of thunder was enough to jolt Honesty Lowell ,Chairperson of the District 10 Produce Fair Committee from his stupor. Rubbing at the sleepy dust wedged in his eye and clutching at his little wooden clipboard, for the first time in the entire fifteen year run of the Fair, Honesty Lowell willed it to rain.
It seemed a strange thing to ask of the heavens considering all the work he’d put in to the thing- Honesty had been up since five this morning and every morning in the week preceding the Fair overseeing the general organization of the event. There were tables to be put out for the stalls, arranged into rows along the vast field that had so kindly been donated by himself as it was every year, (rumours pointing towards the fact that the only reason Honesty got the job as Chairperson was because he was the only person willing to host the fair were both hurtful and unfounded), wooden pens to be installed and straw to be laid down to hold the many dozens of animals that would be on show today. The few ancient, muddy canopies set up flapped a little in a breeze while the garish bunting in reds, yellows and blues danced but at least cheered things up a bit. Already the scent of Sheila’s sweet and spiced chutneys filled the air and intermingled with the earthy scent of workman’s boots churning the mud up into a mire, cattle marching dutifully towards the places where they were to be stored. Already stall owners were setting up, putting out their homemade banners to attract passing traffic, fires were being lit on the food stalls, inside of old oil drums and trash cans converted into makeshift barbecues. There would not be enough corn, meat, cheese or bread to go around, but when was there ever? Time was ever encroaching, the point where the fair would officially open and the ceremonial ribbon would be cut was almost upon them.
Every year this was the part of the day where Honesty liked to have his little breakdown. Last year he’d nestled somewhere between the portakabins, held his head in his hands and barfed onto the grass and the year before that he’d found himself in a nice, cosy embankment someway at the edge of his property near a gently babbling brook. He’d barfed there too. The problems were always the same year by year; his event judges hadn’t showed up for briefing yet, the grandstand was not properly constructed and had worms or something living in it, there was bound to be rain in the afternoon and the animals in the pens found themselves worked up into a frenzy when their handlers got into the homebrewed cider show. Every year his stomach ached and his indigestion was worse than ever…this year though…this year wouldn’t be fixed by a stiff drink, some ginger root tea and a ‘man up, Honesty’ pep talk to himself.
This year an entire troop of peacekeepers flanked the Fair grounds, spread out across it’s parameter like dozens of bright white teeth chewing into the earth. They had descended on Honesty without warning a day earlier and he had to wonder if the government didn’t have any real criminals to catch within the district.
It was because of the Hunger Games and the dead tributes of the district, though that was never mentioned by any of the peacekeepers- but it didn’t take a genius to figure out. District Ten had marked itself out for being ‘trouble’ and ‘throwing tantrums’ when their tributes died so the heavy Peace keeper presence was the capitol’s way of guarding against such an occurrence at a moment when so many District Ten folk were gathered together. To stop anyone from starting fires and throwing pigs blood about the place (and on his land, Honesty might have killed them himself). If they made even one arrest, Honesty was convinced it would be his neck on the line (figuratively) and his tongue in a clamp (literally).
And would the people even come, with so many peacekeepers around? Would the stalls be unmanned, the entertainment subpar? Would it go down as the worst fair there ever was? As the biggest disaster in district history? Honesty pictured children spitting at him in the street, people pointing and laughing, them taking the title of Chairperson away from him in a mob of pitchforks and burning torches. The fair was going to be terrible, he was going to have a panic attack and…and—
“Honesty, you gotta come do your speech now,” said Petra Ransome, another member of the committee, her disembodied head appearing at the front of his hiding place inside of one of the chicken hutches kept by the barns. A disembodied arm wafted through the hutch door to much her head, clutching a handful of seeds. “Ajwain. I give it to some of my girls with real bad morning sickness, it’ll settle your stomach.” If anyone else had given them to him, Honesty would have taken it in a heartbeat but knowing Petra they were probably poisoned.
“I’ll be fine thank you, Ma’am” he said adjusting his wire framed glasses and the tie of his ill fitting suit. That his body chose this particular moment to belch wrapped around bile did little to enforce his assertions. Darting forwards. Quite suddenly, Petra took hold of Honesty’s nose and pinched down hard, until the point his mouth opened to yell out a disgruntled “Ma’am, that’s really--”at which point she threw the seeds down his gullet.
“You’ll be thankin me later,” she said brusquely, “Now git yer ass out of there. Gotta start the fair.”
**
The day began on the raised platform that made up the ‘grandstand’, the epicentre of the fair at the edge of a muddy arena lined with bales of hay. What they had they people of District 10 had built with their own hands, it was rickety and unspectacular- a far cry from whatever opulent opening procession or festival they had seen brief glimpses of on television screens- but at least it was theirs. In trembling hands Honesty gripped a comically large wrought iron loud hailer that would not carry across the crowd and the band played an un-tuned, ill practised strain on their ramshackle instruments. Stepping up onto the platform, he pulled out his speech- it was the same every year (dwelling on recent events was always too political Honesty felt) but all the same he preferred to have it written down.
“Friends,” he began in his usual droning mumble for Honesty was not and never had been a celebrated public speaker. “What a year it’s been!” Petra stood to the left of the stage and with an eye roll recited the words to her partner, Bawn. “But here we are again! I’d like to say a thank you to all those of you who have volunteered their time to setting up the event and everyone in participation as well as all you folks for coming out to see us…” scanning the crowd he looked out and saw the same tired faces. No matter what anybody said, they bred them tough in District 10. Skin was browned, beaten and worn down like leather in the hot days on the field, scraped red raw with frigid winds in winter time and eroded with a constant pounding of rain. Every man woman and child was tired to their very bones, another year, another fresh wave of grief in the form of two more slain tributes. But the dead were the dead and there were animals to be tended to, barns to be fixed and hearts to go on beating.
“We…we’ve had some times over the last weeks --as a district-- haven’t we?” he then continued with a stammer, erring suddenly wildly from his usual speech and starting to sweat. Even Petra pricked up her ears and paid closer attention, from time to time flicking a nervous glance over at the peacekeepers. They weren’t listening though, not really…the loud hailer hardly carried. “But…ah…we’re gonna get through it. Like how we always do. Anyway,” Honesty had gone a beet red, “Everyone already knows my speech…how this is all about promotin’ further growth an’ productivity in the district, upping our quotas and whatever else,” Honesty held the crumpled paper in his fingers and began to rip it to shreds, fluttering to the floor like pure white butterflies. “So just…let’s try and have a good time today, okay?”
Well…it was shorter than last year’s speech at any road.
Honesty stood alone in a swirling silence, unsure of what to do now. Nobody clapped and he wasn’t sure if he’d have to stay on stage until somebody did, which might mean a wait until the end of forever. It wasn’t until he felt a set of bony bird fingers twist the space between his shoulder blades and heard the hiss of, “Honesty, the ribbon,” that he really fully felt as though he was inhabiting his body at all. Just a wisp of dandelion fluff on the wind.
“Ah yeah…ah, and now I’d like to invite our Mayor to cut the ribbon as I declare this fair officially OPEN!!”[/blockquote] [/size][/color]
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