crescentview | 🍁🎑🦋 Bug Eater Farm: Autumn Catch-all 🦋🎑🍁

upgrades
- house restored!
- farming tools upgraded
- barn restored
- restore stable
- more furniture
- kitchen upgrade
- kitchen tools
- make your house a home
- quality of soil increased
- coop restored
- HOUSE EXPANDED!

plants
- 3 cabbage 🌸
- 2 strawberries 🌸
- 1 turnip 🌸
- 1 watermelon ☀️
- 1 pineapple ☀️
- 2 spinach 🍁
- 1 carrot 🍁
- 1 yam 🍁
- 4 morel 🌸
- 4 common white 🌸
- 7 matsutake 🌸
- 1 common white mushroom 🌸
- 1 shimeji ☀️
- 1 common brown mushroom ☀️
- 1 portobello 🍁
- 1 enoki 🍁
- 4 tulips 🌸
- 2 hyacinth 🌸
- 5 forget-me-not 🌸
- 2 daffodil 🌸
- 1 primrose 🌸
- 1 sunflower ☀️
- 1 lily ☀️
- 4 lilacs 🍁
- 2 chrysanthemums 🍁
- 1 petunia 🍁
- 2 grape starters ☀️
- 6 tea starters ☀️
- 2 coffee trees
- 1 apple tree
- 1 pomegranate tree
- 1 orange tree
- 1 cherry tree

animals
- 2 horses (Gealá, only her mane/tail are mostly white; Dwynwen)
- dog (Delle)
- cat (Phantom)
- 1 sheep
- 4 chickens
- 2 goat
- 1 cow

items
- elephant teapot
- 40lb wheel of cheese
- 2 kaomoji cups
- 5 vegetable shaped bath bombs
- 100 googly eyes in various sizes
- waterproof reusable tissues
- endlessly burning flambe
- set of 2 toilet-shaped shot glasses
- propeller hat
- stretch Hogan (in the likeness of the Goddess)
- dunce cap
- a candle that smells like gnomes
- 3 buff fairy contracts
- 1 diva fairy contract
- a sword
- a special gift for a special someone
+ 2 bottles of lube
+ 1 bottle of aphrodisiacs

Kaspar's side of the room:
- two worms on a string, a small oak keepsake box
- fluffy sleep mask
+ 5 bottles of lube

Edited 2023-02-24 09:01 (UTC)

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Edited 2023-02-01 08:52 (UTC)

[ After realizing just how badly Trahearne messed up at the auction, he finds himself wandering away from town and to the beach.

There, he thinks, he can find some peace of mind, with the drone of the water lapping up against the sands. He thinks the swaying of the wind can soothe his frayed nerves and conscience, and that he'll find some time alone to think while everyone else is preoccupied.

Instead, he only finds what Otegine had said to him play over and over in his mind.

"It didn't matter what intention the writer had - the applicant had themselves exposed to the town in a way they had no say or control over."
"Why are you putting him on this pedestal to justify your feelings for him, anyway?"
"It seems to me you're just making things a lot harder for yourself."
"Hesitation can be a trait that hurts a lot of people, just as much as recklessness or impatience."
"Just try to hear what he has to say."

Like a broken recording, the questions churn in his mind, tearing at his heartache just as he thinks he's found himself answers. He wishes he could go back in time and undo all of that. To talk him out of his choice to sign him up--he sees now that it isn't just a fun little activity. Even though he had no reason to believe it had to be any more serious than the spring dance or Hot or Not. The goddess, it seems, is serious about her intent to get them to marry.

What if--?

Unanswered questions, scenarios and futures that may never come to pass meld like noise into the sound of the waves as he watches dusk veil the sky, the sun dip beneath the horizon. He unfolds himself onto the soft, pristine sand and falls into a shallow, uneasy sleep.

And so Trahearne does not return home that night--it's the second time that month. He awakens to curious gulls pecking in the sand around him as the sky lightens in dawn. The guilt, his upset, the questions weigh on him like a dull ache, keeping him pinned to the ground for moments longer than he'd like.

It's only once his glow is gone and he feels the rays of morning tickling his skin that he gets up and decides to go home (home--funny, that. He isn't sure when he's started to consider the little house in the forest with Kaspar his home). There is farming to do, after all. His gait is slow and weighted, his face haggard and distressed. Perhaps one who has not spent much time around a sylvari would not notice the subtle changes in his complexion, but Kaspar most certainly would.

He pushes the door open; not long after he sees his own tuxedo cat trot out from his bedroom, yellow eyes wide and curious and--this is just his imagination--concerned. Without warning, the critter leaps up, and Trahearne effortlessly catches in him in his arms. ]

Hello, Phantom. [ His voice cracks, having not used it for over half a day. ] Is Kaspar home?

Edited 2023-02-01 10:51 (UTC)

[ The week after the auction has felt excruciatingly long. The sharp pangs guilt, the disappointment in himself, the doubts that tore at him ease over the days that follow, helped by letting his thoughts roam freely as he works the earth, the words Otegine, Kaspar, Ori, Mishka impart unto him. Trahearne thinks the shock that came with the aftermath would have dulled anyway, but it is with their help that it is actively made better. That all of that negativity is soon turned into conviction, the firm determination to make things better, and even hope.

But more than anything, he misses Syrlya.

The night before is sleepless, the pit of his stomach filled with butterflies and a needless whir of thoughts. He makes it a point to do his daily farm chores in the morning in an effort to calm himself and maintain a sense of normalcy. He makes an effort to make sure he's presentable generally presentable, that he did not look as though he'd been digging around in the dirt before coming by (which he was). After several nervous paces around the house, glancing anxiously at the clock, he finally gathers the courage to step beyond the boundary of his own farm and venture towards the rural part of the island. Towards Syrlya's farm.

So many times has he played out this conversation in his head; some phrases lodge in his mind and play over and over like a mantra. But as he steps among the grasses, as the waning heat from the sun shines above him, and as the winds gently graze his skin, he wonders if he'll need any of it at all. He knows his own penchant for overthinking. And he trusts Syrlya. Their bond is deeper, stronger than this. He doesn't need speeches with him, does he? This doesn't have to be a scripted exchange. They simply have to talk. And he knows, whatever this turns out to be, they will be better for it.

Regardless of how much he thinks he's ready on the walk over, he finds himself frozen for a moment as he stands before the front door to Syrlya's farm. The arm cradling the bouquet grips tighter, and he takes a moment to calm himself. Why is he so nervous about this?

Though it feels like an eternity, it doesn't take much time for him to reach up and give a firm knock on the door. Perhaps a little louder than he intended. ]

Edited 2023-02-06 16:55 (UTC)

[ Delle notices Trahearne's arrival before Kaspar does. A distant bark from the stable echoes out into the crisp autumn air. Muffled neighing follows, with the scraping of hooves, leather boots and doors closing close behind.

His footsteps trail Delle's back to their home. He looks tired in the doorframe, hair unstyled and pushed back like he does for farmwork. Everything for the day is already completed, noticeably more than he can usually manage at a time without wandering off or going for a ride. His only pause was for the sunrise of a new season. Cleared fields, prepared for seeds, growth, life, and to bury his uncertainties in something productive.

For once, he had genuinely worried over his roommate's return. The events of the auction, where Kaspar was in no better position to assist, and more concerningly the surreal turning of leaves around the island; new hues, new piles already beginning to crunch beneath his feet. Alone, paused to rest his hand on bark, he'd had no one to ask if they were sick or dying. Yet, the animals seemed at peace with the change of their world, so Kaspar had eventually wandered home. To an empty house. One he'd felt more at home in than any other in such a long time.

Trahearne's face when Kaspar enters brings the concern for him rushing back, Kaspar's gaze falling over him. Stepping out of his boots, leaving his gloves and coat beside the door, Kaspar keeps his eyes on his roommate as he approaches him. His brow starts to knit the closer he gets.

Before his friend, flushed and hot off from physical work, Kaspar's expression softens as he tried to catch his gaze. But the words do not come. Kaspar opens his arms without knowing which of them might feel more comforted by an embrace.

Returned or rebuffed, his voice is quiet, slightly hoarse. ]

... breakfast?

[ Trahearne turns when he hears the door opening, as though on cue. Phantom might not have answered his question, but the circumstances of the world around him do instead. Tension evaporates from his shoulders when he sees Kaspar, and a little guilt tugs at him knowing the disheveled appearance means he's been hard at work farming. That was what he was supposed to be doing. And what had he done instead?

Wordlessly, his arms shift, and Phantom jumps down to find another place to rest. Trahearne steps forward to take the offer for a hug, at once glad and relieved that Kaspar can understand him with little to no words, or prompting.

He doesn't know if Kaspar had seen Syrlya's anger towards him at the auction, but he feels like his housemate is a safe third party for him to speak with regardless.

There are other things that need addressing, though. More specifically, that he had not eaten since lunch the day before. ]

I would like that.

[ Kaspar envelopes him in his usual warmth, holding for a long moment. Until his own hunger claws at him, loosening his grip and sliding his hands to seek the sides of his neck; soothing circles of his thumb and an expression that says more to understanding than Kaspar thinks he could ever give voice to. He lingers a moment more in comfort, then turns away towards the kitchen.

Pancakes. Whatever Trahearne chooses must often. Easier to make, now that Kaspar has largely figured out the new changes to the landscape of their kitchen. If not by design then by his own trials and errors. If his roommate follows, Kaspar will not leave him without a bowl to stir. ]

[ The comforting gesture is enough--Trahearne's expression eases considerably, and though he does not smile, the gratitude is evident on his face nonetheless. Gratitude that he lives with someone so understanding, so patient.

He is not one to miss out helping with breakfast, though. He follows close behind into their refurbished kitchen, takes whatever task Kaspar gives him, and goes about it with a practiced hand.

And after a moment of quiet concentration, Trahearne finally speaks up. ]

Did you remain until the end of the auction?

[ Kaspar finishes whatever it is that he's doing, a beat or two, before responding. Trahearne is at least, the easiest person to be honest to. But he is still a little unsure if he means the appeals too. Just the bidding though? He doesn't bother trying to parse it that deeply. ]

... Nearly.

[ Trahearne doesn't even know there was an appeal phase at the end, so it's lucky that Kaspar takes the question at face value.

His stirring hand pauses when he looks up at his housemate. ]

Did you make any bids?

[ Kaspar's expression drifts away when he turns to retrieve the bowl from Trahearne and hand him another.

But he pauses. He nods, his brows knitting before he turns back to the stove. ]

[ Trahearne takes the bowl, but doesn't start with it. He only watches Kaspar for another few silent moments.

His voice is quiet when he asks: ]

Did it not go as you'd hoped?

[ Kaspar keeps working, pulling plates and keeping his back turned. His posture is calm, only the subtlest of tension in the way he moves. He'll find the words, they come easier for Tra, but first there is silence.

He turns to retrieve the bowl, expecting it to be stirred. But he steps close to let him hold it while he takes the spoon to stir himself. Too slowly. A fissure, a hairline crack, barely audible when his voice goes just as quiet as Trahearne's. ]

... In some ways. No.

[ Trahearne's inquisitive stare sits on Kaspar's back, trying to feel out the answer to his question before it comes verbally.

And his intuition was right. His hands dip to grip the bowl as he lets Kaspar stir, eyes studying his housemate's face. ]

I believe that makes two of us.

[ He'd been so sure it was meant to be a fun activity. And now...? Was it supposed to leave such a heavy weight on his chest like this? ]

...What happened, if you don't mind me asking?

[ Kaspar picked up pieces of what happened, but his own drama sucked his attention in. But Trahearne's next words are a direct question, factual, easier to answer than the nebulous state of his emotions.

Still, he answers a little sullenly into the mix. Anger is so rare that Tra has likely never seen its manifestation like this, the coldness seeping in. ]

... I did not like the thought of Bar being forced on a date with a woman.

[ A breath, the dam holding back his swirling words breaking as Kaspar takes the bowl to finish breakfast. Barok and him had that in common, being coerced into dates they had little interest in back home. But now his voice has gone flat and his eyes distant. Trahearne, he trusts with these sour parts of himself, the rare moodiness he does not share with anyone. ]

I wondered. What might the Goddess have in store with all of this effort? That it might be fun. I believed he enjoyed my company the most, that it might have been a night of firsts for us. I trusted him.

[ Kaspar can't find it in him to look Tra in the eyes as he hands him his plate and Feelings twist in his gut. He doesn't clean up more than turning things off before he grabs his own. Without looking, he bypasses their table in favor of slumping onto one side of the couch and staring down at his food. ]

... he showed up cross and bid for himself. Had no interest in my outbidding for him. Or me.

[ There is no humor in the short laugh that follows, too broken and sudden for Kaspar as he sinks down to let his head fall onto the arm rest. The rest of him curls up and he stares blankly at the television. ]

I was fool enough to ask if I may, in front of everyone. He denied me. And to make his point ever clearer, he outbid me on Sylvie too.

[ A pause. ]

I had no one... so, I bid on someone else. And I fear, I now care deeply for them too.

[ This is a new side to him. One that, admittedly, takes Trahearne by surprise. Everyone is capable of anger--this he knows, especially himself. But to see it manifest in someone that has been so patient, so calm, so loving is a bit of a shock. Whatever happened must have been really bad, gotten him really upset.

Trahearne lets the bowl slip from his hands and he simply folds his hand where they sit. He watches Kaspar's face intently and with sympathy, studying this new side of him. He listens quietly, putting the whole of his attention as he speaks.

He can, of course, set aside his own upset, his own disappointment in himself to concentrate on the other.

His eyes never leave him as he takes his plate and follows him to the couch, slowly lowering himself onto the cushion opposite.

And when Kaspar finishes talking, he doesn't even really think about the food in his lap. ]

That was...cruel of him. [ He feels something buzz in his chest on Kaspar's behalf--his own anger. If he were in his right mind he'd march over there and talk to the man right now. ] I'm so sorry, Kaspar. This sounds...complicated. You do not deserve to be treated that way, especially not by someone you clearly think so fondly.

[ There's a brief pause as he clenches his fist, genuinely considering talking to van Zieks about this. ]

Do you have...conflicting feelings, then?

[ Kaspar sighs again, glancing to his food on the side table but not finding it worth the effort of righting himself. He removes the whittling he'd carried around all morning. Tra had likely seen him working on it in his pockets of free time over the preceding weeks. The warm smile he would direct at it when he thought he was alone is gone for now.

In his hand, the figure is a horse's head. Taking shape from dark wood that had reminded him of the color of van Zieks's horse. Adelheid. Holding it, staring at it as he curls further in on himself, his fingers run over the grooves. It softens his hollow tone. ]

... it was not intentional cruelty. I knew he did not write the entry, and would not be pleased over it. Perhaps I, overestimated my worth in his eyes.

[ Kaspar's mouth wobbles, but his eyes are dry. He still can't look at him, and for once he sounds openly miseable. ]

... I do.

[ Trahearne does see the figure, and he does remember it. As observant as he is, it immediately clicks. The buzz tightens in his chest; he leans to put his food on the side table before scooting closer to Kaspar, running a comforting hand up and down his back.

The silence hangs between them for a long moment as Trahearne thinks. Considering the mess he's in, he doesn't think he has much of a right to give his say on the matter, but he can at least feel upset on Kaspar's behalf. He thinks he's allowed that much.

When he finally speaks, there's a quiet fury to his tone. He's trying to keep back his temper. ]

If he does not see your full worth and potential, then perhaps it would be better use of your time to concentrate on the other you bid on. Especially if you care for them just as much.

[ That's his anger talking though. He drops his shoulders, forcibly calming himself down. And maybe Kaspar doesn't want to hear that. ]

Perhaps...you should speak with him, though. Later.

[ Relief is immediate when Trahearne touches his back, as if that alone is enough to ease at least some of the tension on its own. It presses a soft sigh from him as his muscles relax beneath cool fingers and cloth.

Whether Kaspar wants to hear it or not, he does. He tenses beneath the other's hand at the anger in that tone, relaxing again almost as quickly. His actual feelings on that advice, however, are ambiguous in his silence. Kaspar does not move or look away from the figure in his hands for long moments.

But, he eventually rises. Only to lean heavily onto Trahearne with one shoulder, boneless as his head falls back onto the blanket tossed over the back of the couch. Kaspar's grey eyes are surprisingly clear, tired but far less cold, as they settle on Trahearne. ]

... how did you hope yours might go?

[ Trahearne isn't sure if that was the right thing to say--he knows his anger often gets away from him, but it cools when he sees Kaspar's nonresponse. He opens his mouth to say something when his housemate comes to lean on him; he closes his mouth. Amber meets gray as he watches, waiting for Kaspar to settle.

And the question causes the sylvari to wither a little. His shoulders slouch, and his eyes drift down and to the side. ]

I...don't know, to be honest. [ He drops his hand and turns away fully, gaze unfocusing as he stares into space.

After a few moments, he takes a breath and continues. ]

I signed Syrlya up for the auction. I thought he might take it as a fun little surprise, but...he was furious with me. [ He looks at Kaspar, brows drawn up in guilt. ] I feel awful.

I'm sorry, Tra.

[ Kaspar whispers, slowly reaching for him when he looks over. It is an attempt to pull him gently into another hug, to let their worried foreheads rest together while cradled by the back of the couch. Grounding, platonic, but no less deep as Kaspar searches for the words and trusts Trahearne to be patient with him even in his guilt. ]

... that was no mood for him to hear your explanation, was it?

[ Trahearne shakes his head at first--not to deny the pull of the hug, that he falls into quite easily--but to tell Kaspar he has no reason to apologize. He lets the couch catch him, and his eyes fall shut as their foreheads touch, letting the echo of disappointment from yesterday well in his chest again. ]

It was not, no. I...suppose I will have to explain myself once he's cooled off.

[ And he'll give him some space in the meanwhile.

After a beat, his eyes open and settle on Kaspar's. They're conflicted. ]

In hindsight, I realise it was not a good idea, but...I was going to ask him out on a date myself, too.

[ Would he say yes now? After all that? ]

[ Kaspar agrees it is a good idea to let Syr cool off, communicated only by his quiet hum as Trahearne goes on. His eyes remain on the other's, soft and understanding.

But part of him can understand.
He'd be angry himself, if inadvertently sent on a date with someone he cares little for. ]

... will you, apologize first?

Of course.

[ The answer comes readily. He recognizes that this is the first thing he needs to do.

His eyes drop. ]

...Of course. I would be a fool not to.

[ For a moment, he thinks of something else to say, but can't think of anything. He's still tired, still upset, still worn. He gives up; his posture sags into the couch, and his eyes close again.

He just lets all of the negativity and the upset wash over him, and he steeps in his feelings. It isn't really as though he knows what to do with all of this, but he feels comfortable enough around Kaspar to show it. ]

🍁🎑🦋 Bug Eater Farm: Autumn Catch-all 🦋🎑🍁

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