隅田川花火大会 SUMIDAGAWA FIREWORKS FESTIVAL

[tokyodisa]

Who: Everybody!
What: Tokyo Day Three: fireworks festival
When: Thursday, 18/July -- evening
Where: Hotel or Sumida
Rating: pretty

Tonight, in the sky, there are fireworks.

You can see them from the hotel window, but for a better look -- so suggests the helpful concierge at the desk -- you'll want to head to Sumida, where locals and tourists alike gather on the edge of the Sumida River.

[ Watch fireworks from the hotel | Watch fireworks from Sumida ]

[Technically the festival is supposed to happen on the last Saturday of July, but whatever! It's Paradisa. For more information on the festival please visit here, and you can watch YouTube videos here.]

Comments

[ensorceler]

[ Though she is still haunted every time she sees a flash of color and sparks, Anne takes sincere curiosity in what he's talking about... Especially the shapes. She doesn't think such things could be possible without magic, but then isn't he from a world with it? With elves and wizards...

She releases a sigh, trying to let herself enjoy this magical imagery in her head more than the true ones lighting up the night sky, and almost in thanks she lets her hand wander, fingertips resting gently against Frodo's shoulder. ]

[bronwe]

[ He turns his gaze away from the sky to look at her first, to see if she means for him to stop or if he should speak to fill in the silence. This is a happy memory, far removed from the small figure sacrificing himself that the rest may live another day. ]

His name is Gandalf. He has many other names, greater ones, but that is how he is known to us. A bent grey figure, smoking his pipe with his creaking carriage piled with fireworks.

[ensorceler]

[ She can't help but think a little of Albus at the description, though she has yet to see a pipe. ]

Greater names... Not for the fireworks?

[bronwe]

[ Dumbledore would be a dead ringer. He shakes his head, finding that he would rather the conversation never reach a point where he has to admit that his friend is no more. ]

The elves call him Mithrandir. The Grey Wanderer. Perhaps they have never seen his fireworks.

[ensorceler]

I think there to be nothing grey about fantastical fireworks.

[bronwe]

[ He smiles to himself, conjuring the words in his mind before beginning to recite a precious verse. Not his own: ]

The finest rockets ever seen:
they burst in stars of blue and green,
or after thunder golden showers
came falling like a rain of flowers.

[ensorceler]

...I would like to meet this man, should he ever join you here. The delight he has shown you I now envy and would have for myself.

[bronwe]

[ Frodo keeps his eyes on Anne for a moment, always considering his move before he steps forward to catch her attention. ]

Who brought you delight, before you came here?

[ensorceler]

[ It's a risky question, considering. She would say the King, her brother George, her daughter Elizabeth. Even if it's all tainted now, the truth remains. ]

My family.

[bronwe]

[ And that is a safe answer, at least to his mind. One's parents and children should come first, but he has none such people, only Bilbo here who doesn't remember him. And Sam. ]

Did they also make marvelous fireworks?

[ensorceler]

[ She has to release an amused chuckle at his ridiculous inquiry. ]

No, my dear Frodo. That is a task for others, but we have enjoyed them together.

[bronwe]

[ He nods, not quite sure what queens do or don't where she's from. Strider must be a different brand altogether. ]

I have a gardener too, my best friend.

[ensorceler]

A gardener?

[ Wow, sounds boring as hell compared to magic fireworks guy, but do go on. ]

Are you to tell me he grows the food of the gods?

[bronwe]

[ He grins to himself, mostly at imagining how Sam would react to that, the silly hobbit. ]

He would claim so of course, but he does grow the loveliest Iris and tends Shire's best-kept garden.

[ensorceler]

A very noble flower; not to mention beautiful. Have I not heard mention of some sort of vegetable garden being built near the castle? [ She means the greenhouse, but she doesn't know what that is. ]

[bronwe]

[ Neither does he! ]

I have my own little one. Well, it belongs to another one but it is under my care.

[ensorceler]

Who is it that owns it?

[bronwe]

Brock Samson. He owns a house in the forest.

[ensorceler]

We have briefly met. He is your employer?

[bronwe]

Oh no, a friend!

[ He stops to think if gardening in return for stealing his beer counts as being employed or not, even if being paid in beer isn't that bad of a deal. ]

He was generous to me.