Preparation for Solwarm: Venue and Decorations

It is of normal climate. 

Bearable enough for thin clothes thanks to the heater systems powered by the geomarrow radiators in the inner systems of the city which made sunshines possible to be grown on soiled vases and pots or even on the cracks of concrete.

Eversummer Florist. Neverwinter shop.

These funny names only screams one thing the people of Jarilo-VI yearn for; a thawing.

She stares, like it was of yonder. The broken geomarrow radiator outside of the Neverwinter shop stood still, radiating no such thing as close to warmth, merely dormant. 

Wondering as to why it’s on display outside of the workshop instead of a small concert stage.

Perhaps it was just there for special occasions, or perhaps this is a better marketing strategy. 

It is a mechanical workshop after all. But isn’t it better to get a functioning heater displayed? This could entail the mechanic can’t fix broken heaters.

Alas, one things for sure there were no performances today. But blessed be her luck she can still hear faint strums of an electric guitar from the entrances of the building. 

Its sound holds a unique quality in the wavering of strings.

Belobog’s rockstar is still stirring up some inspiration.

Those train of thoughts were cut off abruptly in spite of her staring off in her mental memoirs and journalling as a voice rang in from the side of her. 

“You’re here.” he says greeting her naturally as the clinking of his metal ornaments fills the spaces of silence.

She could get used to the sound of it. It was quite a crisp sound admittedly, different from the other sounds of uniform she’ve come to encounter.

“You too.” they meet yet again. 

“I came to see if there were any performances, you?”

“Paying a visit, and some repairs.” he gestures to the bigass guitar case. 

Very intricate, but bulky. If you look close enough you see all sorts of scratches, dents, and…

Is that blood?

She sputters out a quiet cough, picking herself up back into the interaction with the Captain. 

“Repairs! I see. Well you better get to it then, i wont hold you out here any longer.” the woman quickly dismisses gesturing him to go in while she makes her escape.

“Watch where you are when crossing the street!” Gepard yells over as the tram bells ring and the tourist can only give a thumbs up from behind. 

“Mhm! Got it!”

—

The noon was spent in free wandering, bumbling about and slipping in and out of shops — most of them being bakeries although there are bread base drinks as well, which was very new to her.

At some point our striped tourist landed herself in a cafe to drink said bread based drink. It’s not exactly strong in alcohol but one can just pretend to be drunk off the spirit, like she did on most days. It’s an excuse to dance around and blabber on about whatever. 

Carefree with the delicate balance of control.

“So…you’re a tourist too?” the girl beams, talking to a scrawny researcher that came all the way from a sort space station floating around…well space. She never got to ask his name and there is no need to.

He speaks a-matter-of-factly, “I mostly came here to gather information on ecological state of the planet. Technically not to go on a vacation around here…”

“Right but, you’re still touring around so…” she gestures to him to connect the bridge in his head in which he responds with a dopey; “Ahhh….right.” from this point on the air of the conversation was dormant, only the sounds of the clinking cups and pouring drinks were the sounds that seem to appear before them.

“You wanna know real Belobog sport entertainment? You should watch the matches in the Fight Club!” a gruff man in the background advertises earning a scoff from girl’s current companion researcher. 

“Violent hooligans.”