Logs:The Naughty Spirits:The Bastille of Cupcakes

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It's the storming of the Bastille, in miniature.


---------------* Princes Street Gardens -- Old Town - #543 *----------------

Few visitors to the lush oasis filling the steep valley between medieval Old and Georgian New Town might believe these terraced gardens were a stagnant cesspool contaminated by centuries of sewage. Clipped lawns and themed gardens run under a dappled cloak of trees from The Mound's steep rise to white-sided Waverley Bridge. Edinburgh Castle looms above like a dour sentinel. Twisting pathways traversing the East and West Gardens offer a quiet stroll past a floral clock and fearless pigeons hopping around the fountain. Shops sell picnic supplies and fast food from carts along Princes Street, but commercial noise and the railway vanish behind a screen of trees.

A line of monuments and statues trace the narrow park, the gothic spire of the Scott monument piercing the sky. Locating the commemorative stones and bronze casts amid the flowers and substantial tree cover takes considerable patience or investigation. Both sides hold distinct character; tended flower beds spill over the smaller East end, and sandstone steps lead to the National Gallery. Expansive lawns make the West Gardens a favourite for public events and celebrations during any festival. Crowds disperse with surprising ease into the greenspace, allowing nature to assert its presence unchallenged.

Current Time: 01:26:42 on Sat Feb 05 2011 Moon Phase: Waxing Gibbous

It's a cold 7 degrees C (44 F), and bright cloudy skies. There is a gentle breeze blowing from the north-east.

It's one of those days where a person needs to not forget their sunglasses. Sunnies? Some people call them that, but that's getting a bit off-topic. Although there's a biting chill in the air, there's people in and about the Gardens. Some are using the chance to cut through the gardens to get to their destination faster. Others are taking the chance to stroll, eat their lunches, soak up some sun before Winter's gray clouds overtake the whole of Edinburgh (as is right and proper, some might say).

There's even a Busker nearby. Trombone and taking requests shouted at him from afar, currently he's doing the Godfather Theme. It's pretty good, all things considered. A brightly colored food-truck pulls up nearby; a clarion call, saying of all the good things it potentially has on offer.

Like as not, some kid fresh out of high school last term is tending to the ice cream shop today. It would never be closed on a day like this, but Kasumi has some things she needs to tend to. Certain plants and herbs missing from the garden she's begun to cultivate and some of those things can be found at Princes Street. The woman has a market bag slung over one shoulder as she strides along through the grassy lawns, stopping at various pockets of plants to look them over before she continues on to the next. The food truck catches her attention and the petite woman begins to make her way in that direction, passing the trombone player in the process. She drops some coin into his case.

Sage rolls Wits + Composure

2 4 4 5 7 - failure.

The Coins fall into the busker's case without so much a second thought. A clanking that's easily forgotten as the tipping of a busker is just a thing a person will just do on reflex. Strange thing, though, some Buskers make it a show of thanking a tipper; getting people into the 'show' of it all. All in an attempt to get more.

That doesn't happen.

Instead, the greenery hanging on for deer life gets the herbalists attention. That and the Food Truck, painted in bright, cheery colors with already a long-queue settling into place. Hey! Cupcakes!

Elgin rolls 8

2 4 6 7 7 8 9 9 - (3) for success.

Oh yes, that right there. It's just some edgy green leafs right now, but Sage knows it blooms a very delicious, healthful flower in early spring. The woman moves off to the side around the busker, kneeling to snip off just a few clippings of the plant. Not enough to harm it or even really detract from the visuals. Once that's tucked into her bag, she begins to make her way over towards the food truck. Maybe she's just not used to buskers or the giving of the coin was just -that- humble an act from her. Or she's just unobservant today.

Approaching the brightly colored food-truck and its growing queue of people, Sage notes, first, the scent. Good old fashioned baking! Both promising of sweets, frosting ... wait... Sage feels it first. That shiver, creepy-crawly feeling dancing up and down her spine. That, that can't be a normal thing to feel out of the blue.

Sage rolls Resolve + Gnosis

2 4 5 - failure.

A shiver down the spine might be attributed to the weather that, in spite of the sun, is cold. Sage pulls her coat in tighter around herself, frowning a little. Something might nag at her, but the lure of the scents that waft forth from the food truck override all other things for the moment. The woman surges forward to step into the queue and wait her turn.

At this point, Sage could almost feel her stomach rumble. If she wasn't hungry before she is now! Unfortunately, for the proprietors of the Food Truck, not everyone in the line are so polite about fulfilling their immediate desire. Instant Gratification does not, for the older woman at the front of the line, mean waiting in a queue. "C'mon! We ain't got all day!" An office worker near her agrees raucously. No one, especially in the area with the Busker seem to be moving to intercede. "I want a cupcake!" Cries someone else, the line surging like shoppers on Black-Friday. The proprietors? Meanwhile? Well something's taken hold of them as well yelling that they'll have to wait their turn and show them the two and a half pound for the cupcakes they want.

This doesn't go over well.

Someone pushes at Sage from behind and the woman is a bit thrown off. She's not usually excitable over things, tending to be more restrained and laid back these days. Sale rushes? Not her thing. She just wanted a delicious pastry that smells oh-so-scrumptious. Then the outcry over the prices begin and she's jostled more- by people surging forward to show their displeasure and perhaps some storming off in anger. The British woman finds herself stumbling a step out of line. Her space is likely taken over without a second thought.

Delicious, beautifully frosted pastries. The most beautiful things Sage has ever seen! And all of these people around her are going to eat them /all!/ How's that supposed to stand! One of the proprietors has gotten out of the truck, demanding that the people in line show him the money, as it were. Others are starting to rock the truck back and forth.

It's the storming of the Bastille, in miniature.

One wonders if there's a recipe for Bastille Day. Weird things like that.

Just on the edge of Sage's senses she can almost feel as though she is being watched. Watched like someone on a reality show supposed to dance for the audience.

Though logic may dictate that Sage depart and find a pastry elsewhere, she just can't get over the smell of those here. As some are forced to give up -- or start rocking the truck -- by their lack of funding for the pastries, the petite woman is not among them. She digs around in pockets obscured by over-sized sweater and soon produces a change purse from which she pulls the required amount for the cupcakes. Clutching these in hand, she tries to find a way back into the crowd. Being short is both for and against her, as she's easily moved... but able to squeeze in between people. Just as she's about to thrust fist clutching coins in the air, she notes that feeling. A glance over her shoulder then, trying to find the source of the sensation. Someone she knows?

Not quite, no one she can _see_ in the world full of Lies anyway. But the direction Sage looks, has to be right at least in her own mind. One proprietor swipes her coins of two pound fifty and pulls her over to take a cupcake. It didn't matter which one, he explains breathlessly while the truck begins to creak, just to take one!

Oh, boy

So distracted by the cupcakes is she that Sage does not even consider activating some form of mage sight. Why should she? It's just an afternoon in the park, right? The woman looks surprised when the coins are taken, but ultimately pleased. She's dragged over to the cupcakes and spends little time making up her mind before snatching one that at least looks like a red velvet.

Meanwhile, some of the more victorious are throwing caution to the wind. Devouring their cupcakes in some msort of macabre display. Unconcerned with propriety, design, reputation, or what Old Man Ned will say about them later on tonight. That peculiar feeling of being watched does persist. While serendipity intervenes and makes it so those who are still rocking the truck backwards and forwards are not quite strong enough. But, Sage is victorious - at least for the moment - with her prize. A prize hard-won and hard-fought (worse than Braveheart, honestly).

Sage rolls Wits + Occult

4 8 8 - (2) for marginal success.

Once the feeling passes like a robber in the night and how quick it does, Sage realizes that wasn't a natural feeling. And, from being a Thrysus, she probably can infer that she and the people around her got hit with a Influence Numen dropped on their heads.

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