[ open ] È un po 'caotico...

[prontissimo]

🧙 WHO: Alberto and a bunch of animals he shouldn't have and YOU!
⚔️️ WHAT: Quests + TDM prompts: pumpkins, bunkbeds, culinary quest, pet fair
🕒 WHEN: October catch-all
🗺️ WHERE: Throughout Camelot
⚠️ WARNINGS: None, everything's kosher!


🎃 a. pumpkin carving
[ Alberto has never celebrated Halloween. He's never heard of Halloween. And he's never seen a pumpkin. But before he even saw the quest on the quest board, he'd already been drawn into the pumpkin patch just by sheer curiosity. He's always kinda doing his own thing, all right? Which is exactly how it's come to be that he's made a small gang of horrifying pumpkins, without even realizing they're coming to life, so focused on his work off in a corner of the patch alone... Every time he's made a mistake, he's diligently tried to fix it, which... ruins it... so he's ended up surrounded by a good half dozen malformed Jack-o-lanterns. The "best" of his creations is also the worst...? He was, uh, ambitious? Determined? If the goal is for them to be scary, well, Alberto's succeeding... This current magnum opus he's working on, though, is the first he notices come to life, because it comes to life right in his hands... and tries to bite him! The young boy screams, kicking at the thing violently, flailing and clutching his knife uselessly, before punting it away. Potentially... at your character? Oops. Help a kid out?

After this first terrible experience, though, it's surprising he wasn't dissuaded from the whole activity. But no, no, with non-cursed pumpkins (he made sure of this at the market!), he still picked up the knife again to perfect his technique at home. Any of his established friends may have been texted an invitation to come hang out at his room in the inn and carve more pumpkins. But anyone else may notice a collection of rather interesting pumpkins in the hall outside his door. And there's a high chance of someone running into the child there, who'll greet any random passerby casually as he rearranges his hoard and even adds another one... ☆ He seems happy to show them off just telling by the chuffed smirk painted on his face! ]

Ciao~!


⚒️ b. bunker down

[ Alberto's excited to help out building bunkbeds for the refugees. Makes him feel useful. He's been feeling pretty outshone since arriving here. But building stuff? That, he knows how to do! He's practically an expert! ...No, he's not. But he clearly fancies himself one, dressed for the part with a headband and holding a nail between his lips in a self-satisfied smile... that's pretty obviously not deserved, because he's holding the hammer backwards. And his handiwork... leaves much to be desired. There isn't a straight nail to be seen. And the structural integrity of his projects, just by looking at it, seems... dubious... at best. He's already completed one set of bunk beds and moved onto the next but, uh... a-are they safe to sit on? It's kind of amazing they're even holding the weight of the mattresses...! He sure looks like he thinks he knows what he's doing, though...? Confidence must count for something? Not in this instance... Give him pointers? ]


🍝 c. culinary quest

[ Alberto found this quest very easy. He's contributing garlic. ...That's it. What's more extraordinary than garlic? He's waiting in line at the Fortune Panda, proud as can be. He'll brag to anyone nearby as he waits, delivery people, diners, other contributors, anyone. He did not understand the assignment here... ]

Hey— this is the place that wanted us to bring extraordinary ingredients, right?

[ He holds up his long string of garlic bulbs with a half-lidded, resting smirk. He's fairly certain this is the place. He just wants to show off... ]


🙀 d. not quite a puppy parade

[ A pet adoption fair is the last place a softhearted, reckless, impulsive loner like Alberto should be. Not only has he already adopted a winged hamster he caught himself, now caged and in tow beside him, innocently intended to be a friend for his winged cat... but he's been distracted by the compsognathus, and he's thiiiis close to adopting a pet dinosaur. Find him crouching in front of each and every compie pen and trying to choose the best one, grinning ear-to-ear, ooh-ing and ahh-ing and baby-talking the dinosaurs through their cages, his eyes alight with boyish wonder. He looks so happy, but there's something about his air that just screams "someone should interrupt him." Please, please, please, someone interrupt him. ]

Haaaah, look at you, piccoletta~! Ahaha, what even are you?!

🛵 e. wildcard!
(( I'm always down for anything! Hit me up via PM here or on plurk at summerdive and let's brainstorm! ♥ ))

Comments

a

[wolfhunted]

[Robyn has found herself getting pretty into this whole pumpkin-carving thing herself. Back home, people would carve turnips around this time of year, but pumpkins are way easier to carve faces into. Of course, she buys into the idea that the uglier the faces are, the better, since that way they'll scare off evil spirits.

So she's pretty happy to accept Alberto's invitation to carve some pumpkins...though she doesn't expect to see so many outside his door, even if he looks pretty pleased about it.]

And I thought I liked doin' all this pumpkin-carvin' a lot...

injsvdfjkc a novel, i'm sorry, but. also i'm not sorry haha

[prontissimo]

Ehiiii, you made it! I've got more pumpkins inside, c'mon.

[ As his starry-eyed jack'o'lantern finds its new perch with its fellows, he sets it down with a bright smile, pressing his hands to his hips as he stretches his back. Then turns around and waves her along behind him as he reopens the door to his room, welcoming her in with an anticipatory smirk. His phone was left on the kitchen floor where he'd been working, playing music on high volume as they walk in mid-aria, filling the room with beautiful opera, which surely serves for a lovely soundtrack for this pumpkin project in the background, but is quite incongruously elegant for the scene sprawled before them.

And... i-it's... quite a scene. It's nothing compared to his hideout back home, though very much in the same style somehow, but even without that mess he called home for reference, the visual impact still loses nothing. Alberto's been busy rebuilding his "collection," slowly but surely, in the weeks since he last saw Robyn. Alberto has amassed a lot of— well, junk, to be frank; but one man's trash is another man's treasure, if he does something cool with it. He felt too uncomfortable in the empty space the inn room was when he first arrived. He's used to being alone, but, man, gotta fill the void somehow... Excess makes him feel at ease — and reminds him of his old safe space back home.

He did at least arrive here with his Vespa poster, which is hung proudly above his bed, right in the line of sight. On the wall his bed is pushed along, he has a taped together drawing pinned to the wall, clearly important to him just by how it hangs alone right above his pillow. But apart from that, the rest of the wall has rows of twine pinned up, with a couple dozen rectangular Polaroid photographs he's taken since coming here hung up by paperclips and bobby-pins and clothespins. A brown plaid flat cap hangs on hist bedpost; his bedspread is a simple red quilt (the bed messily made, but made nonetheless), with a yellow winged tabby cat sleeping on it, who barely stirs when the kids walk in. There are white fairy lights strung up like a sparkling canopy above the bed, and several strings of colorful ones crawling down the back wall like rainbow twinkling vines.

He's hung an old fishing net over the top half of the only window in the room, the central focus point upon entering, through which he's strung all kinds of random trinkets he's found around town, even cascades of tiny crystals hanging from a tree branch he shoved up on top of the armoire beside it, all refracting the setting sunlight and colorful Christmas lights in little rainbows all over the room. A big pair of binoculars hangs on a bent wire clothes hanger he nailed up upside down beside the window, using it like a hook. An intricate and delicate looking antique alchemy set is perched precariously all along the windowsill, sheerly for lack of room elsewhere; he doesn't even know what it is, he just thought it was pretty, so stole took it. He doesn't even have alchemy magic! It's not the best place for fragile magical artifacts, though... The windowsill is also adorned with various lengths of colorful ribbons hanging off it, with little bells and feathers and crumpled up balls of tinfoil tied onto their ends — homemade cat toys. There's even a string of many little bells hanging from the bathroom door knob, the door kept closed (as he seldom makes use of it, the only undecorated area)... A frayed, very worn, woven circular rainbow rug brings each corner of the room visually together in the center.

There are several large dark green glass bottles strewn about all parts of the room, all empty olive oil bottles, lending some cohesion as well; a couple do have some wildflowers he's picked shoved in them, but most are left empty. One jar has a fair collection of magic wands sticking out of it, all of them also "taken" shortly after his arrival, but again just because he thought they were cool-looking sticks — he still has no clue what they do, even after two months here... Randomly a bent, rusty bicycle wheel is propped up in the corner, some drawings and scraps of paper clipped to its spokes with clothespins, like it's some decorative bulletin board... Hanging above the couch in the corner, there are jars tied up with woven twine, some filled with random pieces of sea glass, seashells, acorns, cool rocks and little gemstones. He found an old chaise longue at a flea market which he'd shoved against the wall in the corner of the room beside the window. Eventually expecting guests, y'know! There's at least a somewhat empty space in front of it, keeping room at the foot of the next wall, because much of it is taken up by a wide roll of brown butcher paper he hung up on a curtain rod to draw a never-ending mural on, its present page half-filled with crazy-looking doodles of cats and self-portraits and who knows what else. There's an antique suitcase on the floor below it all but overflowing with crayons, markers and colored pencils in every possible color.

Just next to it, his desk is actually surprisingly neat — well, comparatively to, uh, everything else. There's a rusty kerosene lantern on it, flame dancing in it presently, but most of the desk is clear except for some leftover curly wood shavings, a whittling knife, a half-cut wood block, and a few little figurines lined up along the back, all of which Alberto's ostensibly carved himself: a tiny Vespa, a little rowboat complete with little oars, a- little wooden fork...? There's also a fairly tall stack of comic books all askew on the back corner of desktop. His Polaroid camera sits in the center, open and unfolded out of its black leather case, which is tucked away carefully behind it, with a freshly opened pack of film next to it along with a few scattered new photos still in their black film casings, developing. The wooden desk chair has a bed pillow tied to its back with rope and a folded up green fleece blanket on the seat, makeshift cushions. Sticking out of the open drawers of the desk are a bunch of random tools — saws, hammers, screwdrivers, wrenches, knives, an axe, spatulas? Definitely some kitchenware mixed in there...

The kitchenette, though, is actually the only part of the room that looks comparatively functional and sensible, although it too is crowded and cluttered. Hanging on the walls are a string of garlic bulbs, a string of peperoncini, a few tied-up bundles of indistinct green herbs left out to dry, pinned up along with a metal ladle, a metal spaghetti spoon, a mezzaluna and a few other various types of large knives, plus a copper colander. On the countertop there are a few glass canisters filled with dry pasta, a cheese grater, and a large wooden cutting board, as well as a mortar and pestle. A tarnished silver stovetop espresso maker sits out for easy access, beside a stack of little white espresso cups and tins of coffee to match. There's also a bowl of tangerines, a basket of ripe tomatoes, a big, dark green glass bottle of what can only be assumed to be olive oil, and a long loaf of bread with little bits torn off from spontaneous snacking. There is a big stack of dirty dishes left in the sink. Unsurprisingly, the fridge, too, has a bunch of photographs and drawings hung up by colorful alphabet magnets, spelling silly things like "FORZA," "ALBERTO," "VESPA," "MIAO! CIAO!" — y'know, key 'Alberto'-y words; and though he has to climb up to stand on the countertop to reach it, he even has a big glass jar on top of the fridge with more back-up letter magnets in it. It's a thoroughly well-stocked kitchen, obviously. A rather nice kitchen scene for an independent fourteen-year-old child, though, really.

What little room is left of the kitchen space... is taken by more pumpkins, these ones yet to be carved. There's two big ones left, and maybe four or five small ones, all stacked together on the floor. He's got a large sheet of the brown butcher paper spread out across the wooden floor for a workspace, all his old doodles on it now wet and stained in spots by pumpkin goo. He's got already a couple knives he just, uh, left lying on the floor... There's also a bucket full of pumpkin guts and seeds off to the side. He doesn't know if they're edible, but saved them just in case? So there's a considerable amount in there...

He opens onto this overwhelming scene for Robyn with an air of silent pride. He's not really had anyone over yet. It's exciting. He's worked hard on his room — clearly. It's obvious this space will be a constant work in progress. But the main point of it all... is that he had fun doing it. Even if half of his decorations were technically trash when he found them. At least not much was shoplifted or stolen — which he also considers "finding," but was warned against by a concerned adult here early on. In two months, he's certainly found a lot... He fancies it's turning out quite well. But he's gonna play it cool inviting Robyn in, nonchalant about it all. He waves his arms in a limp, welcoming shrug, his usual lazy-lidded smirk resting on his face. ]

Well... Benvenuto. You can pick whichever pumpkins you wanna carve, they're over here. Grab a knife.

[ He crosses the small cluttered room in long strides, crouching down to smack the biggest pumpkin demonstratively, which makes a nice "thwap" sound. He flops down on the ground, making a less satisfying thud as he does, and crosses his legs, picking at his bare toes idly as Robyn gets settled, soft smile still stuck in place as he watches her face for her reaction to his less-than-humble abode. ]

nah it's fine

[wolfhunted]

[Well, Alberto has certainly gotten settled in over the past two months. Then again, two months seems like a pretty reasonable amount of time to collect all that and also make your living space your own.]

You've gotten yourself a lot of stuff... [Robyn's own room is a bit cluttered, though she's not as much of an avid collector of things as Alberto clearly is.]

Thanks. These look like good ones. [She picks up a knife and looks at the nearest pumpkin, already thinking about what kind of face to give it.] Have you ever celebrated Halloween where you're from?

a

[fullgauntlet]

[Izuku can honestly not remember the last time that he's ever carved a pumpkin before. It wasn't really something he did much as a kid. Much more interested in going to collect candy or dressing up. But when he gets that little invitation to carve some more he can't really find a reason why he wouldn't?

Except when he arrives he pretty much has to tiptoe around the massive collection of pumpkins that Alberto has somehow accumulated around here. He wobbles and steps carefully over one and another and another...]

Ahhh... Alberto-kun? Are you sure you need more pumpkins carved?

[He already has an army...!]

lol tl;dr sorry but not sorry...... also hell yeah i'm copy-pasting most of this rofl :|

[prontissimo]

Hahah! Why not! S'fun~ Besides, I already have them— we can't waste them! C'mon, there're more inside.

[ He waves Izuku along behind him after he sets his starry-eyed pumpkin down with its brethren, welcoming his new friend into his home with an anticipatory smirk. Alberto left his phone on the kitchen floor where he'd been working, playing music on high volume as it fills the room with beautiful opera, the boys now walking in mid-aria; it surely serves for a lovely soundtrack for this pumpkin project in the background, but is maybe a bit surprising that this is what Alberto listens to apparently, and definitely quite incongruously elegant for the scene sprawled before them.

And... i-it's... quite a scene, indeed. It's nothing compared to his hideout back home, though very much in the same style somehow, but even without that mess he called home for reference, the visual impact still loses nothing. Alberto's been busy rebuilding his "collection," slowly but surely, in the weeks since he last saw Izuku. Alberto has amassed a lot of— well, junk, to be frank; but one man's trash is another man's treasure, if he does something cool with it. He felt too uncomfortable in the empty space the inn room was when he first arrived. He's used to being alone, but, man, gotta fill the void somehow... Excess makes him feel at ease — and reminds him of his old safe space back home.

He did at least arrive here with his Vespa poster, which is hung proudly above his bed, right in the line of sight. On the wall his bed is pushed along, he has a taped together drawing pinned to the wall, clearly important to him just by how it hangs alone right above his pillow. But apart from that, the rest of the wall has multiple rows of twine pinned up, with a couple dozen rectangular Polaroid photographs he's taken since coming here hung up by paperclips and bobby-pins and clothespins. A brown plaid flat cap hangs on hist bedpost; his bedspread is a simple red quilt (the bed messily made, but made nonetheless), with a yellow winged tabby cat sleeping on it, who barely stirs when the boys walk in. There are white fairy lights strung up like a sparkling canopy above the bed, and several strings of colorful ones crawling down the back wall like rainbow twinkling vines.

He's hung an old fishing net over the top half of the only window in the room, the central focus point upon entering, through which he's strung all kinds of random trinkets he's found around town, even cascades of tiny crystals hanging from a tree branch he shoved up on top of the armoire beside it, all refracting the afternoon sunlight and colorful Christmas lights in little rainbows all over the room. A big pair of binoculars hangs on a bent wire clothes hanger he nailed up upside down beside the window, using it like a hook. An intricate and delicate looking antique alchemy set is perched precariously all along the windowsill, sheerly for lack of room elsewhere; he doesn't even know what it is, he just thought it was pretty, so stole took it. He doesn't even have alchemy magic! It's not the best place for fragile magical artifacts, though... The windowsill is also adorned with various lengths of colorful ribbons hanging off it, with little bells and feathers and crumpled up balls of tinfoil tied onto their ends — homemade cat toys. There's even a string of many little bells hanging from the bathroom door knob, the door kept closed (as he seldom makes use of it, the only undecorated area)... A frayed, very worn, woven circular rainbow rug brings each corner of the room visually together in the center.

There are several large dark green glass bottles strewn about all parts of the room, all empty olive oil bottles, lending some cohesion as well; a couple do have some wildflowers he's picked shoved in them, but most are left empty. One jar has a fair collection of magic wands sticking out of it, all of them also "taken" shortly after his arrival, but again just because he thought they were cool-looking sticks — he still has no clue what they do, even after two months here... Randomly a bent, rusty bicycle wheel is propped up in the corner, some drawings and scraps of paper clipped to its spokes with clothespins, like it's some decorative bulletin board... Hanging above the couch in the corner, there are jars tied up with woven twine, some filled with random pieces of sea glass, seashells, acorns, cool rocks and little gemstones. He found an old chaise longue at a flea market which he'd shoved against the wall in the corner of the room beside the window. Eventually expecting guests, y'know! There's at least a somewhat empty space in front of it, keeping room at the foot of the next wall, because much of it is taken up by a wide roll of brown butcher paper he hung up on a curtain rod to draw a never-ending mural on, its present page half-filled with crazy-looking doodles of cats and self-portraits and superhero-esque figures and who knows what else. There's an antique suitcase on the floor below it all but overflowing with crayons, markers and colored pencils in every possible color.

Just next to it, his desk is actually surprisingly neat — well, comparatively to, uh, everything else. There's a rusty kerosene lantern on it, flame dancing in it presently, but most of the desk is clear except for some leftover curly wood shavings, a whittling knife, a half-cut wood block, and a few little figurines lined up along the back, all of which Alberto's ostensibly carved himself: a tiny Vespa, a little rowboat complete with little oars, a- little wooden fork...? There's also a fairly tall stack of comic books all askew on the back corner of desktop, many of them courtesy of Izuku himself. Alberto's Polaroid camera sits in the center, open and unfolded out of its black leather case, which is tucked away carefully behind it, with a freshly opened pack of film next to it along with a few scattered new photos still in their black film casings, developing. The wooden desk chair has a bed pillow tied to its back with rope and a folded up green fleece blanket on the seat, makeshift cushions. Sticking out of the open drawers of the desk are a bunch of random tools — saws, hammers, screwdrivers, wrenches, knives, an axe, spatulas? Definitely some kitchenware mixed in there...

The kitchenette, though, is actually the only part of the room that looks comparatively functional and sensible, although it too is crowded and cluttered. Hanging on the walls are a string of garlic bulbs, a string of peperoncini, a couple tied-up bundles of indistinct green herbs left out to dry, pinned up along with a metal ladle, a metal spaghetti spoon, a mezzaluna and a few other various types of large knives, plus a copper colander. On the countertop there are a few glass canisters filled with dry pasta, a cheese grater, and a large wooden cutting board, as well as a mortar and pestle. A tarnished silver stovetop espresso maker sits out hot and ready, fresh espresso in the making already, beside a stack of little white espresso cups and tins of coffee to match. There's also a bowl of tangerines, a basket of ripe tomatoes, a big, dark green glass bottle of what can only be assumed to be olive oil, and a long loaf of bread with little bits torn off from spontaneous snacking. There is a big stack of dirty dishes left in the sink. Unsurprisingly, the fridge, too, has a bunch of photographs and drawings hung up by colorful alphabet magnets, spelling silly things like "FORZA," "ALBERTO," "VESPA," "MIAO! CIAO!" — y'know, key 'Alberto'-y words; and though he has to climb up to stand on the countertop to reach it, he even has a big glass jar on top of the fridge with more back-up letter magnets in it. It's a thoroughly well-stocked kitchen, obviously. A rather nice kitchen scene for an independent fourteen-year-old child, though, really.

What little room is left of the kitchen space... is taken by more pumpkins, these ones yet to be carved. There's two big ones left, and maybe four or five small ones, all stacked together on the floor. He's got a large sheet of the brown butcher paper spread out across the wooden floor for a workspace, all his old doodles on it now wet and stained in spots by pumpkin goo. He's got already a couple knives he just, uh, left lying on the floor... There's also a bucket full of pumpkin guts and seeds off to the side. He doesn't know if they're edible, but saved them just in case? So there's a considerable amount in there...

He opens onto this overwhelming scene for Izuku with an air of silent pride. He's not really had anyone over yet. It's exciting. He's worked hard on his room — clearly. It's obvious this space will be a constant work in progress. But the main point of it all... is that he had fun doing it. Even if half of his decorations were technically trash when he found them. At least not much was shoplifted or stolen — which he also considers "finding," but was warned against by a concerned adult here early on. In two months, he's certainly found a lot, regardless... He fancies it's turning out quite well. He's chuffed to show it off to Izuku. He waves his arms in a limp, welcoming shrug, his usual lazy-lidded smirk resting on his face. ]

Benvenuto~ Over here. Pick your pumpkin.

[ He crosses the small cluttered room in long strides, crouching down to smack the biggest pumpkin demonstratively, which makes a nice "thwap" sound. He flops down on the ground, making a less satisfying thud as he does, and crosses his legs, picking at his bare toes idly as Izuku takes it all in, soft smile still stuck in place as he watches the other boy's face for his reaction to Alberto's less-than-humble abode. But at least he does still mean to be a good host, nonchalant and smug as he is. ]

You want some coffee?

[ To think, their first meeting, Alberto hadn't even had any coffee... Does this kid, of all people, really need espresso?! The answer may always be yes... scary as that is. ]

[fullgauntlet]

[Less-than-humble but full of some much character. Izuku is almost flabbergasted at it all. The room is overtaken with so many pumpkins but the sort of atmosphere this place has is only warm and inviting. The clutter and collection of things make it homier than even Izuku's own place. Messy- sure! But he's impressed! And wondering if he should decorate his place a little more. He wonders how Katsuki would react to that... And he has to let his gaze linger for a second or two on the alchemy set since Izuku actually happens to have one similar to it at home too. As an alchemist!]

It looks like you've made yourself right at home, Alberto-kun. I'm glad to see you're doing okay.

[They didn't manage to find any leads on Alberto's friends in the city, after all. Izuku had felt terrible about it. But ready to want to be there for his new friend as much as he can be. his kohai]

Coffee-? I- Sure? Maybe just a small mug of it. Ah- before we get to the pumpkins, I do have something for you too.

[And out of his side bag, he pulls out a handful of colourful-looking comic books! Bright colours and vibrant illustrations depicting knights and heroes fighting evil dragons and terrible dark fae. Avalon does seem to deliver in it's own flavour!]

b.

[icastsword]

[Griffin is a smith, not a carpenter, but he's decent at following instructions and is a competent craftsman, so he'd picked up building bed frames pretty quickly.

He's returning to his own station after a bit of a break to stretch his legs when he spies a very enthusiastic teen and (presumably) the teen's hard work. Which. Oof. He's absolutely going to give the kid credit for enthusiasm, but he's not even using the hammer correctly...Griffin could leave well enough alone and keep walking, but he's kind of worried the kid might hurt himself.]

Hey! Is that your first project?

[His question about the dubiously-constructed, "completed" bed is friendly and curious - there is no judgement here. Everyone has to start somewhere, after all, and this kid is clearly out here doing his best.]

[prontissimo]

[ Alberto always be out here doing his best. Which is unfortunate news for the rest of society, really.

He's clearly proud of his work, though, and either sees nothing wrong, or pretends that he sees nothing wrong so he can keep being proud of it... Mistakes don't bother him as much as they do some people. Once he's set on something, he keeps at it, paying little mind to whether he's good at it or not, but more to how much he's enjoying it... And if he's not good at it, well, it doesn't ruin his enjoyment. How else would he improve? Ever tried, ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.

He holds his head high when asked about his handiwork, placing his hands on his hips haughtily, a lazy-lidded smirk on his face. ]

Yeah! I'm already on my second! Nice, huh?

[ The second one he's presently working on doesn't have the mattress on yet, but it's looking like a bed frame already, at least. The slats are askew. And the sides aren't exactly level, though not terribly off... But he imagines it still works. That's what counts. Typically, that doesn't even count in his book, but y'know, this is for someone else. He's trying to put function over fun. ]

[icastsword]

Very nice! It's miles ahead of my first one!

[It's not technically a fib - The crooked, sagging frame in front of him outshines the first bed Griffin put together in a lot of categories. Lopsidedness, unevenness, dangerousness...

He gives the kid a friendly grin and barely even blinks as he notices one of the posts of the completed structure begin to lose its battle with the weight of the mattress it's attempting to support. It's a slow lean that may take several minutes to complete.]

I've been learning a lot since I started, though. Wanna exchange tips?

A.

[floatsaway]

[With the harvest month in full swing, the Inn has been bustling with activity - what with the previous events with Celliwig and Lestari, space is limited and foodstuffs are even more so. Ochako's only managed to snag a little bite to eat on her way back to her room here as she meanders through the halls. Hilariously enough, it's a pumpkin tart - a much tinier, bite-sized pumpkin pie of sorts. They're not common in Japan, so she decided to try a bit and fell in love with the spiced, sweet treat.

But speaking of pumpkins!! Look at all the ones lining the hall right now! She slows her pace a bit to take in the star patterns with absolute delight, being a bit of a space nerd given her Zero Gravity quirk and all, a massive grin spreading on her face. They're so cute and pretty!! A bit crude, but still really, really adorable to see around the Inn. Puts people in good spirits, a-all things considered...

She spots the young boy beside them all, inspecting and rearranging the gourds, and can only assume he's the one who carved them all, smiling as she waves pleasantly.]

Uwaah...what a cute design! Did you really make all of these?!

[prontissimo]

[ Setting the pumpkin in his hands down, he turns his attention to the girl, his hands proudly both placed on his hips, chest puffed out, standing contraposto with a wide, heavy-lidded smirk. ]

Yup! I'm pretty much a pumpkin expert~ You should've seen my other ones— but, uh, they came to life and tried to attack me, so I had to kill them, eheh...

[ There's a light, wry laugh decorating his tone, but uh, he's completely serious. He throws a glance at his present pumpkin collection, and gestures to them, waving his other hand casually, gesticulating as he talks. ]

These ones aren't magic attack-pumpkins, though. Don't worry. They don't bite~

[ Who the hell is this weird kid, oh god... Ch-charming but mildly disconcerting...? ]

[floatsaway]

[...There is so much,/i> to unpack in just two sentences alone. Ochako blinks, her smile faltering a bit, and she just shakes her head a little. Honestly? That sounds about right for a place like this that she can't even be all that shocked anymore. The novelty wore off in perhaps her third or fourth month. Still, this kid looks a little younger than herself (Ochako is sixteen, coming up on seventeen around the end of December), so all that wildness might have been a little...Much™ for this poor kid.]

Eh...y-yeah, that sure does sound like this place, ehehe. Are you okay? You weren't hurt at all, were you?

[She gives him a brief once over before turning her gaze to the pumpkins again, as he shows them off. This kid sort of gives her huge Monoma vibes, but she'll give him a chance if he's nice. Besides, that personality type can't really deter Ochako, either - she thinks it's funny.]

They're so pretty - I love this kind of design!! Did you keep the pulp and seeds? You can make really yummy things with them! [She holds out her little pumpkin tart.] I got this from the cafeteria!! And I've been wanting to learn to bake a pie, too.

B

[friendsallover]

[Points for effort, Din supposes, watching the kid work. Though he is very concerned about the one assembled bed. It's really just a disaster waiting to happen.

As Alberto raises his hammer for the next arc, Din plucks it from his grasp, turns it around and hands it back. Gotta start somewhere.]

Works a little better if you use it that way.

[prontissimo]

[ Alberto is steady at work, tongue now pressed thoughtfully between his lips in intent focus, but when his hammer disappears suddenly, his brow furrows in utter confusion... Looking up, though, wipes that look right off his face, eyes wide and mouth going slackjawed at the sight of this... uh... metal man?! ]

Huh—?! Wha—...?

[ You've gotta admit, it's intimidating. Alberto can only think he's wearing a weird diver's suit of some kind? He has no idea. He couldn't care less about the bed right now... ]

[friendsallover]

[It's not an unexpected reaction and honestly, Din prefers the look of shock to immediate violence. Really it's just another day to him. He is smiling behind the visor. Kids.]

The hammer. It works better if you use the bigger end.

D

[pricklybloom]

[ Amy has been spending a lot of time helping out with the adoption fair. It's not exactly something she normally did, but helping all these animals made her think of Cream in a way, and plus it was a little less...intense, than some of the other things she'd been doing lately.

...sometimes.

But that's neither here nor there, and she focuses right now on making sure all the animals are happy, or at least satisfied, and...not trying to eat each other.

So she's feeding a few of the animals nearby when she hears a voice, and she glances over to see a boy hanging around the dinosaur cages. And she hurries over. ]

Hey, be careful! They might bite.

[prontissimo]

[ Heyyyy, not-human lady! Strangely good to see. But her warning does, like, nothing to deter Alberto, whose smile is stuck in place. ]

What, these guys? Nahhh~

[ gruihjnsk how would you know, Alberto, you literally just said out loud that you don't even know what they are... ]

[pricklybloom]

[ She can see that the dinos are starting to get a little agitated, and one of them is getting a little too close. Grabbing some of their food, she hurries over and tosses it into the pens.

It works well enough, with the dinosaurs distracted enough by getting a meal that they ignore Alberto, at least for the moment. ]

Do you even know what they are?

pumpkins

[lovesopendoors]

[Anna gasps, when she just happens to see them on her way somewhere else! She's never seen any more amazing and beautiful and cute carvings on pumpkins. Surprising, considering she could have thought of carving stars and crescent moon and hearts to them herself but -- no, she didn't think that far yet. ]

Ch-- [She stops to think for a bit.] --ow?

[CLOSE ENOUGH? NO. What did he say? Well, surely he'll tell her, maybe, but Anna's really not known for patience and she's way too curious about the adorable pumpkins!]

Did you make all of these yourself?

[prontissimo]

Yeah, I did~! I'm preeettyyyy much a pumpkin expert.

[ And humble, too. He puts both hands to his hips, chest puffed out, head held high, a crooked, cocky smile on his face. This is, like, the best idea he's had lately. He's getting so many compliments on his little personal pumpkin patch. ]

[lovesopendoors]

[Well, Anna is only going to make his humbleness worse.]

Yeah, you are! Or you're more like the pumpkin expert. Everyone's always making those jack-o-lanterns, scary faces, and yeah, I'll make those too and they're fun and all, but these are--

[She stops to look at them again. Her smile is softer, almost sad for a moment.]

Really beautiful. Maybe one day we'll make something similar back in Arendelle too. [a beat before she seems to suddenly realize something.] Oh, I'm totally the snowman expert.

a

[letmewin]

( Those are... rather interesting pumpkins, to say the least. Not that pumpkin carving is easy, mind you. It takes someone more used to using those carving tools to really make something impressive.

Still, when he sees just who carved them, his face lights up. )

Good afternoon, Alberto!

Did you really carve all of these...?

( That's... an impressive amount of pumpkins, and you can see how he improved as he finished each one. )

[prontissimo]

[ And used to carving tools, Alberto actually is...! Between whittling wood, filleting fish, and just having a naturally boyish affinity for cool knives, Alberto actually took to pumpkin carving quite well... after, uh, many tries. But these, by this point, he's proud of. His face lights up as bright as his jack-o-lanterns' faces when he sees Asriel, too, standing straighter with a smile and wide eyes. ]

Ehi! Asriel! Yeah-hah, man, check it out! Miao~!

[ He lifts one of the cat ones up in front of his face, like a pumpkin-head, meowing sillily for show, but lowers it with a cockeyed good-humored smirk. ]

Pretty great, huh? I'm basically the pumpkin master now, hah~!

[ He's ever humble, as always. ]

A

[wukuiyuxin]

[A possessed pumpkin is simply no match for Lan Wangji. He was passing by the patch on his way, not particularly heeding anyone working on or near it. But when there is a scream, followed closely by a projectile coming right for his head, his sword is unsheathed instantly and slices the pumpkin clean in half faster than anyone's eyes could follow.

The pieces clatter to the ground. A single pumpkin seed slides off the tip of the blade shining like ice in the sunlight. Only then does his gaze sweep the area, landing quickly on the boy clutching a knife. Is he in trouble or the trouble?]

[prontissimo]

[ Alberto is almost always the trouble, in trouble. One hand washes the other this way, you know.

But for all his well-versed experience in creating chaos, this whole incident leaves him frazzled and startled... and yet far more stunned by the display he just witnessed of Lan Wangji's swift reaction. He's left agape, eyes as wide as saucers, staring at the man like he were otherworldly. And for all intents and purposes, well... he sort of is? Alberto is from an uninhabited island off the coast of a tiny fishing town in the north of Italy in the mid-1960s, what the hell does he know about ancient Chinese martial arts. He thought the moon and stars were fish.

He's staring (is that rude?!) for a good long beat, before another one of his monstrosities comes to life and is moving quickly toward him. He lets out a dramatic "eep!, far less manly than he'd hoped for himself, especially now in the presence of some spooky-cool elegant swordsman... Seriously, he just went eep?! Oh, mannaggia... But nevertheless, he kicks at this next thing again, though this punt is not as powerful for his sudden sheepishness, and he kicks it away from Lan Wangji this time. Well... at least that much is polite. ]