yum, yum - community picnic human au

[scorchfrost]

Seamus would never admit it, regardless of who asked, but he was actually quite thrilled to be going to a picnic. He hadn't had much of an interest in the events posted in the newspaper before, there wasn't any place there for a random grown man and anyway, he'd been busy with work. His shop wasn't going to run itself. Who was going to get their groceries if he'd closed down for some silly pool party, or whatever. He belonged in his shop with his inventory, and signs warning parents not to leave their children unattended lest they get towed away or given a puppy or whatnot.
He'd thought as much until some unattended little girl had made it a point to say hi every day. He'd gotten used to her presence, given her a treat here and there, and quickly found himself 'grandpa-ing it up'. He wasn't really grandpa old, but still. He couldn't let her go to a picnic alone, could he? that was just inviting trouble.

The afternoon sun was high in the sky, the grass of the sports field was freshly green and slightly damp, and the air was crisp but not cold. The typically sour-looking man was dressed in his best button up, jeans, ballcap, and grin. It wasn't very toothy, more like a glance of a smile, but it was there. He'd laid out a picnic blanket out among a field of others. His was at a bit of a distance and perhaps more of a work blanket, permanently stained and only just large enough for one man, a little kid, and a dented tin lunchbox. " Are you hungry, lass? You're welcome to have a snack before you play. " There was a pick-up game of football, westerner-ly called 'soccer', going on alongside some beanbag, ring-toss, and other assorted contests. Seamus could even swear that he saw a glimpse of lawn darts and horse shoes somewhere. He'd try and steer the kid clear of those.

All in all, it was shaping up to be a wonderfully loud, tiring, and rather happy day.
​

[ GET OFF MY LAWN ]​

 

[smogstar]

Two axiomatic 'David and Goliath'-style matchups have effect on his body; the profuse beads of sweat versus the slope of the middle-aged man's forehead; the conspicuous dark rings under his eyes versus the animated spirit of all those who'd decided to attend this picnic.

The current temperature is merely a fraction above what he'd expected for the season, and nowhere near the hellish highs of summer, yet here he was, dressed in an overshirt that mght as well be called a furnace, a pair of jeans that felt like sandpaper, and shoes that were the closest he had to being comfortable. Being an obsessive workaholic certainly comes with its downsides, and for Scott Mawson - the stiffest middle manager at his brokerage firm - his most glaring one on this fine day was his lack of a proper wardrobe.

He's only out here because of the kids. His late wife shot out seven of them before she passed on, and despite his inability to spend a significant amount of time with them, he still did his best to support their upbringing, however small that support might be.

Sometimes, it came as trips to overpriced zoos or amusement parks, but most often, it came in the form of spending some money and buying the newest gadget, trinket, or toy they wanted. Picnics, however, were a bit different, since he actually had to take the time to be around for the event, and invest the mental capital that comes with talking to others.

With the young ones preoccupied by food, sport, or other adolescents in their age range, Scott is left alone to engage in banalities with the adults. He didn't entirely mind; there are ample brewskis in the cooler and one clutched carefully in his right hand, so at the very least, he has something to do when conversation dries up.

"Thought lawn darts were banned in the eighties," the man says, for he idles in the vicinity of listening ears. Notably among them is Seamus, who owned a shop that Scott has wandered into once or twice. The older gentleman hardly captures his focus, though—Scott's brown eyes were caught in a fussy squint, trying to see from a distance how sharp those darts truly are, all while an index finger finds stimulation in the scruff of his beard. "Those things're like javelins. If one of my kids gets impaled, I'm gonna get right pissed."

He'd half a mind to stomp on over and collect them himself, but the bottle in his grasp did well at dissuading him.​

 

[SLUGKIT]

YOUR MOOD IS LIKE A CIRCUS — the young girl had never meant to make friends with an old man. her mommy told her not to talk to strangers, after all, but she was never really one to listen to what she was told, and much more inclined to do whatever was more rebellious.. as long as she'd had a nap that day, then she would rebel. otherwise, she was far too sleepy and far too grouchy to be truly rebellious. anyways, she hadn't meant to make friends with the old geezer, but here she was, sitting on his picnic blanket with her skirt overalls pulled over her long-socked legs.

"i'm hungwy!" the five year old announced, squirming closer to take a look at the lunch box. with how often the girl was hungry, you'd think her mother never fed her — but here chubby little cheeks and energy said otherwise. a malnourished child or a child that went hungry wouldn't have the energy to be so rebellious. "what do you have today, mistew seamus?"

CHANGING ALL THE TIME ✿ CANT HELP BUT FEEL

• 
  ✧ chocolate tortie / fawn chimera with low white, green eyes
  ✧ 3 moons old; ages the 24th every month
  ✧ orient. unknown ; currently not looking
  ✧ daughter of eggskip and blazeclaw
  ✧ kit of shadowclan
  ✧ easy to befriend ; trust gained very easily
  ✧ "speech", thoughts, attacking
  ✧ peaceful powerplay allowed

​

 

[BATCHASER]

Some ways away from the chattering people and bundles of families with their sticky hand children. Was a lone person though curled up beneath, a pile of blankets. A dark-haired figure laid burrowed underneath his current comfortable state. Bruised eyebags layed underneath his eyes, as he slept on top of his picnic blanket. Underneath the darken cover of the blanket. Clad in band t-shirt whose seen better days, of being worn out over the years and simple ripped jeans. Boots splayed to the side of the sleeping man, and a backpack laid prone next to the boots.

Moving a little, the dark-haired figure raises from his blanket cocoon eyes still shut as he raised a pale hand to cover his yawn. He sleepily nods off a little from his sat up position. Heterochomic eyes startle open from his "long-ish" snooze, bringing his head up and blinking slowly at crowds. His medium-length bangs, painted with white, shielded his eyes from the outside world. "Hm.." He hums out, his throat rattling from his excessive sleep. He rubs his eyes and goes over to retrieve his deflated backpack. He draws the bag over to him, his long pale fingers curling around the bags loop. The man twists his lanky body to the side, to open his bag to rummage through it like a raccoon in a trashcan looking for food.

He perks up, smiling as he found his two prizes he takes his hand out of his bag. Fishing up his prize was a phone and a pack of sour gummy worms, he first presses the 'power-on' button on the side of the phone. As he's waiting for his phone to boot up. Bisyou opens up the pack of sour worms, a natural second favorable snack he likes on outings. He takes the sour treat and pops it in his open mouth, remembering that he indeed took out his tongue piercing before conking out to sleep. He hear a small 'bing!' go off, and he looks down to see his phone is open properly showing his glowing lockscreen.

And... tons of messages from his roommate. Oops. Welp. whatever, he unlocks his phone to click on his jack-of-all trades music playlist. Music softly plays from his phone's speaker, he turns it down before patting his space to find his headphones. He checks his jacket pockets, that he used as a makeshift pillow. Nothing. "Where is the damn thing?" he clicks his tongue, as he checks his bag. He reaches into it, tattooed hand bumping into a soild object. Found it! He takes his hand back, white headphones hanging from his grip.

He hums at his accomplishment, as he connected his headphones to his phone. Reaching up he sets his headphones on his messy haired head, pierced ears bombarded with soft music. He relaxes in his sitting position, munching away at his pack of sour gummy worms as he watches people go by in his own little world.

OOC -` ♡ ´- DON'T WALK INTO THE FOG

• ooc: pov - me writing too much
• no ref yet </3
• ( Ehhh ?! ) BATCHASER : warrior of shadowclan
  ➛ cismale ; HE / HIM, no problems with other pronouns ; currently 28 moons
  ➛ pansexual / single / not actively looking / open to crushes
  ➛ a tall, curly shorthaired oriental mix with half-lidded odd colored eyes.
  ➛ action , thoughts , "Speech , 7077A1"
  ➛ smells of rain-soaked pavement & sweet leaf rot
  
  - tags / @ on discord for plots
  - penned by calzone
  
  

​

 

[EGGSKIP]

I MET A GIRL WHO SANG THE BLUES — It was rather ironic, how Egg had passed on her attitudes to her children while also speaking out against exactly the same things. The young mother was practically the quintessential example of the phrase do as I say, not as I do. Not that that ever kept her little ones from doing exactly what they'd seen their mother do in a rather unique little mirror of their elder. Which was exactly how she had ended up here, attending a little community garden for the sake of Samantha and the pair of others that she knew to be running around nearby. While she didn't actually expect Seamus to be any kind of threat to her daughter, she at least tried not to be in the business of letting her kids go off to events with random men just because they wanted to. She and Blaine were actually in agreement on that front, a rare occasion for the two wildly different co-parents.

At least being out in the warmth gave her an opportunity to wear some of her cuter outfits, the ones that had been tucked away at the back of the closet through the winter so that she hadn't turned into an absolute ice cube. Currently she found herself in a light yellow sun dress with eye-catching white polka dots, the sheerest black knitted shawl over her shoulders. Though even that might need to go soon, the day surprising her with the sheer heat that it had decided to greet them with. At least she didn't seem the only one in mild suffering, the state of Scott nearby bringing a crooked grin to her lips.

Standing between where Sam sat and where the adults had gathered into various little packs, Egg made sure to lean over and lightly ruffle her daughter's unruly hair, certain she couldn't make it any more wild than it usually was. "Y'act like I never feed you. Guess we're both lucky Seamus is here, eh?" She glanced gratefully towards the man in question, vaguely amused that Samantha had somehow recruited another grandpa in addition to the ones that she already had. Though at least her being preoccupied meant that Egg had the chance to interact with the other adults - a rare occasion outside of her work these days. "They're probably all rusty nowadays if those are the ones people've kept since the eighties. Imagine how much fun we'll all be havin' if somebody ends up havin' to get a tetanus shot after the community picnic." Her next words were directed towards Scott, the amused smirk on her face not quite matching with the content of her words.

Maybe there was a reason why her interacting with other adults had become such a rare happening.

AND I ASKED HER FOR ★ SOME HAPPY NEWS

• 
  ✰ longhaired black tabby and fawn chimera with amber eyes
  ✰ 18 moons old; ages the 1st every month
  ✰ bisexual; currently not looking
  ✰ mother of slugkit, leechkit, and mantiskit
  ✰ currently a queen; rarely leaves camp
  ✰ shadowclan born; loyal but not hostile to other clans
  ✰ very easy to befriend; little animosity in her at all
  ✰ "speech", thoughts, attacking
  ✰ peaceful powerplay allowed

​

 

[CHILLEDSTAR.]

charlie was running a little late. it wasn't intentional, they just needed to make sure the pie they baked was perfect, and they needed to let the thing cool because they'd be damned if they were gonna let it be too hot for anyone to eat when it was absolutely perfect otherwise. and besides, who didn't like apple pies? by the time they got to the picnic, it was lively. good. they placed the pie down, with a large yawn and stretch before grabbing a frisbee.

"hey, anyone up for some ultimate frisbee?"

they haven't played in a while but anything wad better than sitting and doing nothing. as much as they're enjoying the sun, they enjoy playing frisbee more. their gaze moves to the other, a gentle laugh leaving them as one of the young ones says she's hungry. adorable, she is. there was plenty for her to eat here. and if her mom permitted it, she could have a slice of their homemade pie they'd brought.

———————---***ALL OF MY FEELINGS ARE GONE***———————---​

I LEFT 'EM ALL ON THE FLOOR✧ MAN WHO'S TO BLAME IF YOU DON'T LOVE ME NO MORE

•  
• — black feline with a white marking across their face, a white chin, a white right front paw, and blue eyes. chilledstar is covered in scars, the most prominent ones being the one across their face, and the one across their neck.
  — 44 moons old; ages the 3rd every month
  — they / them pronouns
  — aromantic / homosexual ; currently not looking / looking
  — child of JAGGED and RAVEN
  — shadowclan ; loyal to shadowclan ; other info if applicable
  — mildly difficult to befriend ; trusts barely anyone; trusts no one outside of shadowclan
  — "speech", thoughts, attacking
  — peaceful powerplay allowed

​

​

 

[Laurelgrin]

it hits my head and I feel numb✧—————————————————————————————
A handful of rocks bounced around in a pocket of grass stained jeans. They were new, the jeans, and yet the owner of them made them look like hand-me-downs. But, supposedly that’s what thirteen year old boys did. They wrecked things and threw rocks at empty pop cans, at least that’s what Lawrence was doing. Every couple of seconds would pass and another dink would sound. The boy didn’t look amused by the game, but he hardly ever did, especially if he was alone. No one else his age had wanted to play games with him yet so instead he did whatever this was.

He was a tall boy, but far too young to look athletic or strong despite his best efforts. Maybe if his dad wasn’t too busy for Lawrence to join a sports team he would build some sort of muscle. He could probably ask for a weight bench soon though, then he could really get big. Then he’d be cool and the kids would prefer his company to some egg salad sandwiches or whatever else was being served.

Charlie arrived late to the picnic but the wait was worth it when they suggested a game of ultimate frisbee. Lawrence hadn’t ever played but it would be something to actually do and that was a chance he wouldn’t pass up. He quickly clambered his way to them with an excited gleam in his eyes “You’ll have to teach me how to play but I want to!“ he then started to scan the people around them looking for anyone else who might want to join. His gaze lingered on his own father for a second but soon it fell away, there was no chance he would want to play. He was already burning up it looked like, moving around wouldn’t help.
my body's looking wrong✧——————————————————————✧penned by WriteAboutRadish
​

 

[scorchfrost]

Seamus didn't know what kids liked to eat. He knew what he liked to eat and he knew what parents often bought at his store, but he'd not really ever spent time feeding a child. He'd never had young siblings and he'd not had children of his own. He went simple, guessed a few things, and hoped for the best when packing the day's lunchbox. " Well, lass. I figured you'd like some sandwiches, fruit, and biscuits. " He'd figured that you couldn't go wrong with biscuits, some cut up fruit, and deli meat sandwiches. He'd perhaps diced the fruit too finely but he didn't know if Samantha was old enough to choke on it or not. He was pretty sure she was over three or four? He wasn't the best with ages.

" Ach! It's not a bother at all, Egg. " Seamus rather liked Samantha's mother. Her child accompanied her to the grocery more often than not but sometimes, it seemed, the little one got away from her. " I was told I had hollow legs as a bairn. There wasn't enough food in the world to keep me full, skinny as a rake I was. " He wished the metabolism had kept up as he aged but, alas, his gut said otherwise. " I've got a store full a' groceries so I might as well use some of them. "

Seamus was most definitely not up to playing 'ultimate' frisbee, not that he knew how it differed from normal frisbee. He'd get his exercise tailing Samantha along various activities.
​

[ YOU CAN'T BREAK MY SPIRIT ]​

 

[lilacfur]

// i havent rped ppl in forever DONT look at me

A brief glance at her phone screen reassures her there's nothing urgent before placing it on silent and tucking it away in her bag. Lilith had been wary about bringing the twins out on this picnic, but the sunshine was too pretty to waste. A break from work wasn't so bad either, even if it made her heart rattle to force herself not to look at her phone. What if I get a call? I won't respond in time. The team could need me at any moment-

A deep sigh gives her pause. She took the day off for good reason, she tells herself. They shouldn't expect her to answer on unpaid time, she tells herself. She's allowed to relax, she tells herself.

"Here, make sure she stays on the leash, okay?" She handed the leash off to her son as she closed the hatch to the car led them over to the grassy field where other folks gathered around. An exasperated sigh left her as she overheard Scott already gnawing some complaint about... rusted javelins? She's too late to the conversation to capture all the context.

"I brought the dog, maybe your kids will stay out of the way from whatever you're talking about." Her tone is light, of course, this guy was somehow her boss anyway. "Charts were still looking fine before I left this morning. Your meeting with that mortgage company got rescheduled to next Friday, though. Put it on your calendar for you." Lilith reached into her bag and pulled out a cling-wrapped sandwich and handed it off to him.

"Here, I'm gonna go hang out with my kids now and watch them get egg salad all over their clothes. Good luck with yours!" Seven to keep track of! Lilith could chart stock trends and statistics any day but pouncing after seven tots was nigh impossible for her. ​

[ i need the clouds to cover me ]​