A festival story. The narrator is imagined; the cloak is real.
Observer's log.
Night three.
Location: the pale plain.
They have gathered again. Tens of thousands of them, traveling to a place with no water and no shade, to raise a city that will exist for exactly one week. Its primary purpose appears to be dancing.
They seem delighted by this.
Observations so far:
One. They wear their outer shells in patterns. I'm told that wherever they came from, most of them wear gray. Here, no two are alike. Some glow from within. One wore a crown shaped like an octopus. When I asked why, he said, "Because I can." My translator flagged this as both an answer and a philosophy.
Two. They greet strangers with the phrase "welcome home." I have checked the records. None of them live here.
Three. At dusk, a vessel in the shape of a great fish, lit from inside, crosses the plain at walking speed. Hundreds follow it. It goes nowhere in particular. This is considered a triumph.
Four. They give each other things for no reason: water, slices of orange, small beaded bracelets. A being with stars painted on its face handed me a token that read You Are Magick. I have not yet determined whether this is a scientific claim.
Five. Many of them seem to recognize me. Several have asked which "camp" I'm "with." One asked if I was "part of the show." I'm unsure how to answer, so I've been saying yes.
Six. At the coldest hour, my outer surface dropped below its comfort range. A being called Dax said I looked "very shiny and probably cold," and returned with a cloak, which he placed over my shoulders.
On its back was a violet oracle: a many-eyed figure, symmetrical, crowned in light, ringed in ornamented tentacles. Dax said, "Figured you'd like this one."
I have studied the image closely. Respectfully, they have drawn us more beautifully than we are. I'm not sure how they know what we look like. Perhaps they don't. Perhaps they're simply very good at imagining.
Recommendation to the Council: Do not make contact yet. They are busy. They are discovering one another.
Request: Extended observation. I would like to see their star rise again.
Appended note, origin unknown: a hand-painted sign has been found near the observer's last known position. It reads INTERSTELLAR EMBASSY · OPEN TILL SUNRISE · ALL SPECIES WELCOME.
Second appended note: recovered from the inside zip pocket of the cloak, a small woven tag. Transcribed in full:
Galactic Alien Oracle · festival cloak · micro-mink outer · faux-fur fleece lining, black or white · double front zipper · heavy drawstrings · four pockets · unisex XS–5XL · Magus Fawn
Whoever the observer was, the cloak is real: the Galactic Alien Oracle women's festival cloak ($250), for anyone who's ever felt like the most interesting visitor on the planet. Other visitors have been sighted among our women's cloaks and men's cloaks.
Frequently asked questions
What is the Galactic Alien Oracle design?
Galactic Alien Oracle is an original Magus Fawn visionary-art design: a symmetrical, many-eyed oracle figure crowned in light and ringed with ornate tentacles, in violet, lavender and blue. It comes on festival cloaks, crushed velvet hoodies, cotton hoodies, kids' hoodies and more, for anyone drawn to cosmic, otherworldly art.
Are festival cloaks warm enough for cold nights?
Yes. A Magus Fawn festival cloak pairs a soft micro-mink outer with a fluffy faux-fur fleece lining, a double front zipper, heavy drawstrings and a hood, so it works like a wearable blanket. For the coldest pre-dawn hours, wear a hoodie underneath and choose the cloak one size up.
Written by Magus & Lylyth Fawn, the Los Angeles artists behind Magus Fawn. Magus makes VR and digital visionary art and produces Psy EDM. Lylyth makes fractal digital art and runs design and customer care. We've been selling wearable art since 2020 on Etsy (4.7★ from 144 reviews as of October 2026) and here at magusfawn.com. Come say hi on Instagram @magusfawn.
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