( open out of season edible 'mistletoe' for any and all )
Collette had no way of knowing that the night she finally managed to set up mistletoe in various buildings and residences of Transports throughout Exsilium would be the exact night everything about time would go crazy.
As a consequence, the mistletoe goes back up at midnight every night, no matter what had happened to it over the course of the day. It isn't truly mistletoe, some distant cousin mutated over the ages, and the fruit on its leaves is actually edible. Those natives who see it will find it odd that someone's tacked up an edible fungus to various entranceways. Over the course of the day, it'll inevitably be pulled down.
Welcome to Mistletoe (sorta) in February. Isn't it kind that little tags are tied in ribbons to each of the bunches, explaining the good luck and prosperity behind the tradition?
Anyone? Anyone?
... Bueller?
( if any wish to tag Collette; )
For Collette's part, she checks in on the various bundles, idly curious to see the different ways they're taken down as each weekday cycles back to be the same day. She still has some unhung bundles with her, and as she trudges from place to place in the snow, she whistles an invented tune.
It makes her think of Simmaeri, from what feels like years ago.
+ Mistletoe every day all week
Collette had no way of knowing that the night she finally managed to set up mistletoe in various buildings and residences of Transports throughout Exsilium would be the exact night everything about time would go crazy.
As a consequence, the mistletoe goes back up at midnight every night, no matter what had happened to it over the course of the day. It isn't truly mistletoe, some distant cousin mutated over the ages, and the fruit on its leaves is actually edible. Those natives who see it will find it odd that someone's tacked up an edible fungus to various entranceways. Over the course of the day, it'll inevitably be pulled down.
Welcome to Mistletoe (sorta) in February. Isn't it kind that little tags are tied in ribbons to each of the bunches, explaining the good luck and prosperity behind the tradition?
Anyone? Anyone?
... Bueller?
For Collette's part, she checks in on the various bundles, idly curious to see the different ways they're taken down as each weekday cycles back to be the same day. She still has some unhung bundles with her, and as she trudges from place to place in the snow, she whistles an invented tune.
It makes her think of Simmaeri, from what feels like years ago.