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He had to hand it to the festival committee - they had done a damn fine of bringing both the logistics and the spirit of a proper festival to the villa.

Giorno had been insistent about no one from the council getting involved - Chilchuck assumed it was for the sake of the council's boundaries, but really, it was for the sake of the planning committee's. Giorno had found a group eager to take the effort and make it theirs and they had been pretty damn protective of the effort. Chilchuck hadn't really understood the urge, but he didn't say anything about it.

Well, that secretiveness was for good reason.

The villagers, having gone to sleep and waking up in whatever they had chosen for their festival best, had emerged to everything already constructed just so.

No, not constructed. In bloom. Literally.

There was everything he would have expected - hearth and food stalls, ale barrels, music with flutists, string players and a drum - but the real centerpiece were the extensive carpet of petals that stretched through the center of the courtyard. Mosaics of them all in separate designs. Some abstract, some unmistakable, and so many of them you'd have to walk a long stretch just to take them all in. Chilchuck had never seen anything like it.

He didn't expect to get emotional, either, but he was. It hit him all at once. Half-foots had festivals for every week of the year. The last one he had been to had been his youngest's adulthood ceremony.

Chilchuck couldn't even linger on that fact for long since there was a kid every other minute trying to plop a flower crown on him. At some point he stopped resisting and let them pile up - though he ended up hanging them on Meridew, the forest fox that now had shacked up in his workshop. She didn't seem to care - she seemed to sense this made her even more endearing to the people who were happy to indulge her in bits of bread, cheese, and mutton.

"I can't believe they decorated all that--" he said, gesturing to the mosaics, "--overnight." Chilchuck took a lazy sip of ale, having parked under the shade of one of the trees at a table across from his...

Well.

His date.

Commander Shepard.

She, as always, looked breath-taking. She denied it, and Chilchuck wasn't the type to lay it on thick, but he noticed every time he looked at her but he just hoped it didn't show in the way he fidgeted with his collar every so often. He had forgone the usual functional ensemble with the neck gaiter to something...still functional but at least elegant and floral. He was in a short-cut embroidered tunic, a deep and dark green hand-stitched with little bright pops of cinquefoil patterns. He'd stitched it himself. The corsage he'd settle on was a marigold, something that grew readily in the fields around the villa and made decent tea.

throughthelookingmax

"Hey, looks like there's a town up ahead."

Reigen obviously saw it --- he was the one driving, so he saw just about everything. But Max wasn't sure that the others in the back had. She looked over the shoulder of her seat as she said it, making sure that her voice wasn't drowned out by the sound of the 80s citypop CD they acquired at the last town they ran into.

Max turned back around and squinted her eyes, trying her best to filter out the rays of blinding light that seemed to reflect off of everything.

"I think it might be near a beach, too," she said. "That looks like a seagull, right?" Max pointed at the figure of a bird flying overhead.

buon_giorno

"Come here...isn't your paw hurt?"

Giorno had full intentions of stealing a mid-day nap, but Croccante was high on one of the broken pillars beside the door to his room. The white cat eyed him but didn't come down. Giorno sighed and rubbed his head. Just looking up for too long was hard when he had been on his feet for longer than an hour or two.

It had been just two days since he cured Joseph. He had slept almost the rest of the day through and that was all he was allowing himself after making himself so scarce for a whole week. At some point doubt would creep into the community gossip and that was the last thing he needed to manage.

Giorno leaned against the pillar and put some of his energy into the ivy vines that crept up it. The flowers burst open, surprising the small cat, and urging her to leap down--right onto his head. He quickly pried her out of his now-mussed curls and inspected her paw. A little splinter poked out of the pink pad, and he squinted to pluck it out--and missed. And tried again--and missed. His hands were shaking. Croccante's tail was swishing in irritation. He summoned all his focus and managed to fix his fingers around it to pull it out, and the fluffy cat bolted out of his arms not a moment later.

"Yes, yes...you're welcome." Giorno watched her take off down the hall.

espresso_doppio

Doppio didn't like to complain...even when he really wanted to. He felt like he had a lot things he could have complained about--he got headaches more than the others. He got tired more than the others. He got carsick more than the others. Still, he didn't like to dwell on the unfairness. He felt lucky he had nice people and a warm place to lay his head down at night. When he thought about that, it helped keep things in perspective.

But right now...he really, really, really wanted to complain about Reigen's driving. It felt like they were constantly swerving or stopping--when it wasn't a rock, it was a ledge. He couldn't even look out the windows to orient himself...not that it would have helped. There was tall grass everywhere. 'It's not the Captain's fault. The road ran out miles ago.' But then the van lurched as it came to another hard stop and Doppio couldn't fight a groan as he swallowed down a wave of nausea. After several failed attempts to rise from his bunk, he had given up. He buried his head in the pillow and took a few deep breaths.

julibahana

"How do you feel?"

Juli felt anxious for Giorno, though she tried her best not to let it show. And true enough, her words came out sounding unworried and confident. Because even though she was concerned for Giorno, she knew that if there were anyone in this world who could help Jojo, it was him.

mp_strikinglyblessed

Reigen told himself that he'd celebrate every good thing that came his way from now on--no matter how small. He wouldn't celebrate it in want of something but for it's own sake. After all, there was no higher power to bargain with. It was just him.

Him and two kids.

Him and two kids and a giant VW Bus he was 60% comfortable handling. And a magical piece of paper that kept their entire lives packed neatly and lightly.

He kept reminding himself of how far he'd come in just a few weeks whenever he started really missing a nice matcha. He had Doppio on a strict assignment to look out for even the instant stuff. Every day was a new lesson in unpredictability but they'd found that there were clusters of stability. Some towns had mostly escaped the rupture unscathed and others were like patchwork from a monkey's hands. You just took what you got, hustled, and hoped for the best.

Today--today wasn't bad. They'd lucked out with a highway cutting through a sprawling plain with small patches of life in the distance. There was no telling how long the road would last, but word had spread across the town they'd just left that it went on for awhile. The street signs weren't in a language he recognized but it's not like they'd serve their purpose even if they did. Reigen spared a thought for all the taxpayer dollars gone to waste.

"Quartermaster," he snapped his fingers and adjusted the thick technicolor shades on his nose, "coffee me."

buon_giorno

Giorno had saved his business for the council meeting that evening for last. Everything had gone more or less now he’d expected after that.

Chilchuck had questions. While he didn’t raise an objection of any kind, he had spent the rest of the meeting watching Giorno’s face.

Zelda had questions but they were all centered around the technicalities and how she could assist.

Evandor kept it simple, as always. “Giorno has never lead anyone astray.” He said nothing more.

And Juli…she was supportive but he knew she had questions of her own. He offered to walk the scenic route with her back to her room.

“We may not see each other much over the next week.” There was an apology and a lament in there.

nohardwork

"I'm sure there's got to be a city nearby," Joseph said. "Don't look so down about it! We can ask where we are then."

Caesar was nervous; Joseph could tell. Caesar was always more uptight than he was (though there were few people who weren't), but he could practically feeling the stress radiating off his body.

Who could blame him, though? One second they were in Switzerland about to confront Wamuu and now they were in --

Joseph looked at the environment around them. Tuffs of dried-out plants grew out from underneath craggy rocks; the occasional tumbleweed tumbled over a vast sea of sand. It was the complete opposite of where they were before.

alteredfates_npc

“You’re lucky, Juli.” Iris said after a few minutes of silence as they watched the kids play. The schooling program had undergone some changes and additions at Juli’s suggestion—and was implemented quickly, given her newly-acquired status as a council member. Right now, it was play time for the younger ones in the courtyard.

Iris was a teaching aide and about Juli’s age. Usually chatty, today she looked rather sleepy, her thick red hair spilling out of its bun and grass stains on her patterned tunic not fully washed out. She was doing her best to keep upright for Juli’s visit, but a late night of repurposing one of the indoor rooms for the new program made that taxing.

“Getting to spend even more time with Giorno, that is.” Iris grinned - a little gossip was just the thing to keep her perky.

julibahana

"...and the newcomers are settling in pretty well. One of them is even a teacher, so we might be able to begin dividing classes further," Juli said. She turned the page over in her notes. She didn't need them; virtually everything she had to say was committed to memory, but she felt more secure having them anyway. She looked up from the notebook. "I think it'll be a good move. There's been some behavioral issues among some of the students and the extra challenge might settle them."

That wasn't all that Juli had to report to Giorno Giovanna, but she thought she pause for comment while they were still on a high note.

espresso_doppio

The camp rules were agreed upon on the first day:

1. Watch rotation: everyone would have a shift keeping watch at night for 3 hours.

2. All food and resources were shared equally. If someone found something valuable, it was up for group discussion whether it was used or kept.

3. For venturing into unknown areas, they needed to stick together at all times. When anyone needed to leave for any reason, they were to inform the others as appropriate.

4. Injury or sickness had to be communicated immediately. If anyone fell behind, the group slowed until everyone was able to continue. (They had been spared incident thus far, thankfully.)

Doppio rubbed his eyes as he re-read the rules during a little downtime at camp. He had borrowed some of Reigen's paper to keep track of them. By the time he got to the specific system of emergency signals (that involved one whistle, bird signals, and the metal from a six-pack Reigen had on him to act as reflective surfaces) he felt his ability to focus dissolving. It wasn't because he was bored or disagreed with them...he actually felt way more at-ease with a clear system of operation.

He was just tired. A lot. His head hurt. A lot. He felt his focus slip away...a lot.

Rule #4 forced him to be honest about when it got to be too much to the point he couldn't hide it. Reigen and Hitomi were patient, but Doppio wasn't content with it. The first few days were the worst, especially because of rule #3--every place was new to him. Hitomi at least knew the parts of Freid that hadn't been cleaved apart, and Reigen seemed like he was wrapping his head around things quickly, but for him it was sensory overload.

So, he had to learn how to ration out his energy.

Focus on what you can do, Reigen would say. He was the meal-prepper. He had to start there. It was actually something that came to him naturally. Doppio found that encouraging--in that way, it became the first thing to properly energize him. It made the times he had to be at camp more often productive, so he took on shelter management and quartermaster duties too. Even if he wasn't the haggler that Reigen was or quick on his feet like Hitomi, he could still make himself useful.

After a week he had finally gotten his daily system down to a science. It felt torturously slow getting there, but he let himself feel good about his progress.

Pitter-patter.

Ah, rain.

It rained often, and there was only one tent to start with, so they had to waterproof more shelter pretty early on. Maintenance checks were a pretty frequent part of Doppio's day.

At times like this, when he had pushed the limits of his focus and completed his tasks, Doppio retreated to his tent and let his mind wander a little. Despite all the hardship, Doppio had to admit that there was a surreal beauty in their surroundings. There were pine trees growing along what probably would have been a mountain--rocky cliffs rising only to be sharply cut off. Rivers flowing from unknown places. Rice paddies that melded with white sands.

Then there was the wildlife...that was his favorite thing to observe. Not just for their own sake, but it was where he learned about the environment the most. Doppio had heard somewhere (where?) that early humans learned what was safe to eat from watching animals. This all went straight into his notebook.

Pitter-patter.

'Ah, the rain is still going,' Doppio noted when he looked up from his writing.

There was a rustle--Hitomi in her tent, stirring from a nap. It was just the two of them at the moment while Reigen was in town.

"Good morning," Doppio said lightly. It was early afternoon. "Are you hungry?"

aoihitomi

Hitomi was anxious.

This wasn't atypical for Hitomi; anxiety had become a close friend since she entered the world of Gaea. She found no comfort in the familiar, though, even as the scene in front of her became unfamiliar.

Freid was no longer how she remembered it a few hours before; the city itself was still (mostly) intact, save for the occasional building that looked as though it had been cleaved neatly in half; what was supposed to be on the other side wasn't there. Not just the building's other half, but the environment that was supposed to be there, too.

Paths to Godashim's market now lead to a lush forest that looked as out-of-place in Freid's desert climate as Hitomi did in uniform here on Gaea. A large swath of the city had been replaced by buildings that looked like they belonged in ancient China.

But worst of all was the missing. There were plenty of them. Even if you didn't personally know someone who was missing, you couldn't miss all the people shouting out names in the streets. All this only heightened Hitomi's anxiety. Especially because she was missing all of her friends, too.

Maybe if she could do something about it, she wouldn't feel so powerless. She could douse, yes, but she didn't have anything from Van or Millerna or Merle or even Allen to help her. It was lucky enough that she had her duffle.

She didn't know where to go, so she started looking for the palace; she wasn't as familiar with Godashim as she was Palas. Hitomi didn't know if she couldn't see the towering building from here because she was far from it, or because it had been spirited away with so much of the rest of the city.

It was only when she was walking that her foot knocked into something hard and metal; it bounced off the toe of her shoe with a clank so deep and hollow that if she hadn't felt it, she'd know by sound alone that it was something heavy. Even though the streets were littered with debris from the chaos, all that together was enough to lure Hitomi down the alleyway it had been knocked into.

It was there that she saw it. There was no mistaking it, either. Chid's golden crown. The plumage that had decorated its top was matted with the same sludge that covered much of the cap's precious metal. The feathers lay flat over the cap's curve, wet with something that made Hitomi's nose curl with disgust.

Still, Hitomi snatched it from the ground gratefully. As unlucky as things had become, if the crown had not become so muddied, it may have been recognized for what it was. And if it was recognized for what it was, she would never have found it. She might not be able to use it to find Van or Millerna or Merle or Allen, but she might be able to find Chid. And if she found him, maybe she could find everyone else.

There was no quiet place in the city, but this alleyway was the closest she could find to it. Though she hesitated to sit down, she did; it was far easier to douse that way. She placed the still-dirtied crown in front of her and wiped her hands clean with her handkerchief. She might not have a map like when she doused before, but even just having a direction to follow was more than what she had now.

Hitomi removed the pendant from around her neck, closed her eyes, then let it swing. Every part of her was focused on her memory of Chid. His bright blue eyes. His green tunic. The un-princely way he ran through the palace halls when he thought no one was looking. The earnestness. The scented oils. In Hitomi's mind, Chid was virtually there right in front of her.

At least, until she was interrupted, and that image of him evaporated in an instant.