Once upon a time...

[timefather]

[ For the residents of Märchenstraße, and all the land surrounding it, the eighth of December was a day to look forward to. Looking at it from an outside perspective, strangers and travelers could easily assume it to be a holiday. At the very least, a day for a festival, if a modest one. A day that shopkeeps spent all morning preparing for, that all manner of creatures spent days traveling to the city to witness. They'd heard the talk that passed around, the rumors from those still left. But would it work? No one knew for sure, no matter how confident the stories seemed to be. But hope was very quickly becoming all they had left.

They had decorated the whole town. Streamers, banners, wreathes and garland made of autumn flowers, plus whatever the Fairy Godmother had cooked up. Oh, she was just giddy. No skepticism could be spoken around her, not if you wanted to escape the wrath of her wand! Rumor had it that she had caught wind of a few piglets squealing about the likelihood that their magic would fail, and that they were subsequently transformed into the band of musicians who could be found performing in the park.

Well, at least the music was festive.

Of course, the decorations weren't for the newcomers alone. Autumn was coming to a close in just a few weeks, and Old Man Winter would take the reigns like he did every year, and their weather would turn cold and harsh. The chill was already there, cool and biting when the wind picked up speed. Lady Autumn was much preferred to the citizens of the city with her gentle nature, even if she failed to show up, finishing her work in the orchards instead. That was what they liked about her.

It was mid-morning when Father Time was found outside of his tower, checking one of the numerous pocket watches he kept on his person. "Unnecessary, but comfortable," he called them, and closed the watch again. It was twelve o'clock in the afternoon, and where empty space had been just seconds before, now they were. Sitting on benches, lying in flower patches, scattered about the city and outside of the gates in peaceful slumber. They would awaken to the bells of the clock tower. Some, to many friendly and relieved faces all around them, some to grateful ones carrying gifts of food and clothing and magic, and some to fearful, cautious faces. Regardless of how the town treated them, they would awaken to a celebration of their arrival, and choices to be made, and the books. Each and every one. ]

Comments

[seventhsimon]

Unfortunately, I will have to contradict you on that score. [ The reply is muttered under his breath, and likely not audible. Simon was hardly paying attention when the words were said, and honestly was going to keep on walking by he's run into enough poor sods for one day but the oddness of waking up in a box and the distressed look on the kid's face makes him pause.

And then double take. And then rush to help.

He's moving the res of the lid out of the way, and offering up a hand to help the boy out. ]

Are you all right, kid?

[howherolls]

[ Peeta stares at the hand for a long time, as if it's ready leap around his throat. Hesitantly, he takes it and stumbles out of the box

He hasn't been called 'kid' in a long time. Peeta stares into the man's face, trying to position him in his varied assortment of memories ]

I'm sorry, I don't know you.

[ he frowns, troubled ]

Do I know you?

[seventhsimon]

No, [ Simon's face is... soft, is perhaps the best way to describe it. He's concerned, worried, but not overly tense. Treating the boy rather like a spooked animal, really. ] you don't.

You probably won't know anyone around here.

[ The stumbling is fine, Simon is sturdy and ready to catch the boy to keep him from falling. Young man, more realistically, but he looks so lost and unsteady on his own two legs that Simon mostly wants to keep an eye on him. ]

Careful, now. Steady.

[ He's not quite tottering on his feet, but Simon is worried none the less. ]

[howherolls]

[ There's something off with Peeta's prosthetic leg, and it throws off his balance even more. The man helps him, but instantly his entire body tenses. Peeta's not a fan of strangers. ]

Thank you. [ the words are tense, and Peeta closes his eyes to take a deep breath and gather his bearings ]

Who are you?

[seventhsimon]

[ Simon can feel the tenseness of the young man's body, so once he is certain of the boys ability to support himself he backs up smoothly, removing contact. ]

I am Simon, a native to this world where you have been brought.

[ He isn't really sure what more to add than that. 'Sorry', perhaps? ]

Are you all right? Other than the new surroundings. [ Is there something wrong that I can help you with is a more accurate question, but there is little he can do about it. ]