Out of Water: The Meaning of Mogstock

For most weekends, the Lavender Beds- especially those of the Mateus neighborhood- are as they seem- idyllic, pastoral, incredibly quiet places where one might get a scone and a cup of coffee or tea from a nearby rustic bakery and find a seat by a stream for a daily meditation or centering session. You could listen to the wind coast through the trees, the birdsong, and simply enjoy the Twelveswood. However one weekend a year, the neighborhood is taken over by one of if not the single largest music festival in the known world. Hundreds if not thousands of people descend upon one ward of the neighborhood for a summer bash full of music, dancing, food, and just a little bit of spice. It is called Mogstock, and experiencing it is unlike anything we have records of under the sea.

Getting the chance to wander around such an event has been truly eye-opening, and unfortunately it is impossible to see every act and eat at every venue and talk to every single person you want. But I did my absolute best to see what I could - and perhaps send for a more durable pair of shoes and some energy drink to keep me going through the late nights. The pools of water were handy; I tried not to go for a dip because, well, I... they were being used for more than just soaking and swimming. Waves and currents, sometimes the things surfacers wear and do among others is just flabbergasting.

I got in to the festival Earthsday afternoon and was immediately seastruck by the amount of people from all walks of life that arrived here. You saw sultans walking next to farmhands, noblewomen trading musical views with courtesans, and the odd Garlean expatriate asking a local Duskwight what eatery they ought to check out. I heard good things about a few places: the Huckleberry Saloon's drinks looked amazing, though if they ever do come back, I'd love to try the Huckleburger. Bandee Pakshee's famous curry was always a crowd-pleaser (even if I could only handle the mildest they had) but the lassi and the other drinks looked good! Perhaps next year I'll be willing to risk a sample of the Madame Herself across my tongue? If not, perhaps an offering from Spearsong Distillery.

I settled upon a chilled tea from Shroudrose and a bellyful of curry and set upon exploration. I took in no small number of musical acts - all of which were loud, very boisterous, and (much like Eorzeans in general) from many different walks of life. There were pop acts, there were hardcore rock bands, and at the end of the night, there were your headliners. Earthsday's was Chaon Vision, and by the end of their set, after having gotten to watch such acts as The Tinkers, Hoo Hoo Yeah, Clayde Lockheart and Rava Moon (along with a bit of sitting in and listening to MC Misfit spin up some music) while resting in the grass and quietly eating dinner.

Back home, this would have been sashimi over a small bowl of rice with plenty of edible seaweed in a light dressing and a drink while listening to quiet koto music, maybe a shamisen if it was a special occasion. You might make quiet conversation, you might clap quietly or show your appreciation, but you're not going to see a surging wave of Spoken waving glowsticks that mimic a school of fish darting about while cheering at the tops of their lungs.

But even after all that, my night was not done. I'd resolved to come out of my shell (no yumemi jokes please), and that meant taking a deep breath and attending the after-hours event being held at the Elysian Springs, the Mogstock Match-Up. It still brings a blush to my face, but still... it was rather exciting to see the performers putting themselves out there and hearing the crowd cheer their favorites. Granted, the outfits did put a blush on my face, but everyone looked like they were having fun. Maybe there might be room for one more next year...?

The next evening began with a rather solid meal at Short Stacks, and plenty of juice, and a bit of an outfit change. While I like my suikan, it isn't until you spend all day in one moving about that you understand that it is like a suit - you may look official in one, but if you exert too much, you find yourself swimming in a sea of sweat. But even pared down, I still found myself sweating as I set out for Lightsday night. Maybe it was for the best, as I soon found myself swept away by the tides of humanity surrounding the stages. And as I found my head bobbing and body swaying to acts like Kitty Parmesan and the Snowbirds, I realized how much I was correct in my observations that the one thing that can always bring Eorzea - nay, Etheryis itself - together is a party. I made the acquaintance of several more people, and we ended up sharing a Puku Pizza (that I may or may be addicted to), and then I went off to see the last few acts of the night, sweating my scales off listening to Mydnight Morning, Voidsent, and then closing out the main day with Mai Secret Valentine.

Though again, the day was not completely over. Downstairs at Plot 36, after Pakshee had wrapped for the night, another after-hours event was brewing; a birthday party for one Doc Laladay, who I have come to understand is something of a treasure among the performing community. I regret that I didn't get a slice of cake, but I do know that the community honestly can come together and treasure those who deserve it, and to thank those who have put so much work into their space. Mr. Laladay, please accept our belated birthday wishes, and we hope to hear of your next venture soon!

There was also a rather spicy cabaret show, that did for the mind what a touch of miso atop your yumemi does to the tongue: inflame your lips, quicken your heart, and fill your tongue with a warm sizzle. Admittedly, I confess to having lost the plot of the show about halfway through, but in the end, I kept my eyes on the stage for obvious reasons. It was a, um, rather good learning experience, and my eyes spent as much time exploring heavenly bodies amongst the stars as they did following along.

Darksday was, in its own, the most memorable and the most daring. I will admit that I hadn't slept well the night previous. I had spent the day keeping my notes and was generally running a little on the low-energy high-stress side (as a diplomatic ambassador, you tend to thrive in these situations).

...tides, how do I phrase this...

I attended the advertised match of Ballafell. Ballafell is a sport where a very well shielded lalafell is pushed around a field using gouts of water, with two teams each trying to push the 'ballafell' into a goal, the first team to ten winning the match. It was, honestly, a thrilling sport, and quite unlike anything I have ever witnessed. Granted, we do not do much for sport where I am from. Every day is hard work, whether it is growing food, mending clothing, or going out hunting for delicious yumemi. So I took up a perch and watched the match. And soon I found myself making a friend.

In Sui-no-Sato, sometimes circumstances are that we cannot finish our work and have energy left for things in life like socializing without the help of a little something. Various compounds brewed from undersea life such as sea slugs, plant life, and other proven safe and effective means to energize and fall asleep. Or, like your average Eorzean, you could run on enough coffee to keep a whale awake.

My new friend saw that I was flagging a bit and overstressing and prescribed something for me, assuring me that she was a licensed practitioner and that I looked like I needed a break. So, being one to always trust a doctor, I decided to try a little bit, and well... it felt okay. But then things kind of progressed to where time got all stretchy and warm and pinkish blue and before long I woke up under a tree with my new friend with things all somewhat wrinkled and akimbo and a mouth tasting of honey and citrus... but still more relaxed then I'd been in years with my new friend slipping me a card and telling me she'd like to help untangle some things of mine.

After a quick sprint back to my quarters for a change of clothes, I managed to treat myself to a dinner of the hottest curry I could stand, chased with mint ice cream while I settled in to watch the last acts of the festival-letting the spice drift me away to the tunes of Kitty Parmesan, the Aetheric Strays, and Sedira and the Gremlins before closing out the music with Melodi and the Muses. But after the last note was sung, the last encore shouted, it felt like the color was gradually seeping back out of the ward. Even as some of us walked back to the last after-hours event, the open mic night, you had the last stragglers dreaming, wishing that the tides would roll back again, letting it suddenly become Earthsday afternoon again, with the entire weekend ahead, to experience the festival all over again.

But even as venues broke down and festival goers retreated back to their rooms to pack and sleep for the travel home, the chatter was rather hopeful that next year's Mogstock would be bigger, better, and perhaps even a touch more wink and nudge than this one. I would hold it up as an obvious example of what can bring the star together, and a fine reason to look ahead to next summer with dreams of music, food, spice and friends awaiting in the Mateus neighborhood.

The crickets and songbirds may have reclaimed the Lavender Beds, but it's only a matter of time.