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Entry tags:
TDM 003
| TDM 003: #BEACHBUMS |
I. BEACH  Welcome arrivals, new and old! The skies on Erku may be perpetually gray, but the weather has taken a sudden turn to summertime heat. Fortunately, soaring temperatures have chased away more of the strange fog that conceals so much of the island, unveiling a charming, sandy cove dotted here and there with rustic love shacks. These shabby little lean-tos are dusty and sparse, but they provide everything one (or two, wink wink) might need for a little relief from the sun. Just don’t wander too far... that fog has memory-loss properties. II. DRINKS  The 'bots are very apologetic about the whole fog incident, and they are trying to get on the new arrivals' good sides by giving out fancy drinks. Of course, they still haven't mastered the art of making things properly, so each drink has a little something... extra.
III. SNACKS  Lo! As you ask, the Augur shall provide. Thanks to the efforts of your organic predecessors in restoring the planet’s Eros energy, edible fishes and seaweeds have returned to the ponds and the shores of Erku. If you fancy yourself savvy to basic survival skills, why not fashion up a fishing rod and catch yourself dinner? Just be careful if you happen to hook one of the octopus creatures from the deeper waters - they can be quite forward with their tentacles! Or, if primitive angling isn’t in your repertoire, you can always trade some credits for a tasty catch from one of the food stalls along the coast. Most stalls are manned by 'bots, but there’s nothing stopping an enterprising arrival from setting up shop. No credits? No problem! The robots have also provided a bit of entertainment, and any volunteers to man the kissing booth, get dunked in the wet t-shirt dunk tank, or grill up some fish - among other opportunities - will find credits automatically loaded onto the payment app of their bracelet devices. The 'bots are recruiting especially hard for participants to work in the gloryhole tent! IV. SPARKLES  As dusk descends, the white sands of the beach suddenly come alive with glittering lights. It’s as if the darkened waters have carried a thousand shining stars from the depths of the sea to the shores of the cove. In actuality, each little twinkle is a bioluminescent plankton or jellyfish! Feel free to wade among them and admire their shine; even the sting of the jellies won’t hurt you... though they do pack a different punch. The tentacles of the jellyfish elicit a powerful aphrodisiac response, which gets the heart racing and the blood pumping for an intimate touch. The effects come on within a matter of minutes, and last for a few hours. Only time will relieve the symptoms, but a partner will help to make it more bearable. N A V I G A T I O N |
fishing -b ) hi great grand 2k year old grandpa
And nearby, a guy with a makeshift fishing rod. What is with these oblivious people trying to fish? The disrespect within his presence, him, the king of fishing?? ]
Hey, watch it! You swung that too far!
PRECIOUS GRANDSON
It would take but a flick of his wrist to dismiss the entirety of the makeshift fishing rod into the Armiger, hook included. Instead turning to face Noctis, Somnus clears the distance between them with two, three long and purposeful strides, black cloak flowing behind him. Trained hands reach up him, one upon his jacket, the other upon the hook, and with quiet expertise— and perhaps a shadow of paternal care from ages past— his fingers deftly undo the damage caused.
They are tethered by magic, by blood, by sin— for all of Somnus’ remain passed unfairly onto the young man before him. Not by mere fishing hooks. It would be laughable, if Somnus had any sense of humor.
He steps away, sandaled feet sinking into the sand. Wordlessly, he dismisses the fishing rod, line, and hook, which all vanish in a revelry of blue light and crystals. The last of their flickering facets catches within his blue eyes as they wink out of existence, and his hands fall neutrally to his sides. ]
Recall: phasing.
[ He speaks, tone even. ]
sob sorry for delay weekend was hectic and then my internet went out...
The sound of his voice when he speaks.
Noctis only recognizes the emotion he feels. Anger, frustration, spite, agony, everything one upon the other like Ardyn could be standing right before him again, his figure disappearing as Noctis sinks steadily deeper and deeper into the clutches of the crystal.
He likes to lie, he likes to deceive others, he's a snake. Noctis knows everything about him now. This could be Ardyn, playing at his tricks, and Noctis wants nothing more than to slice his head off his shoulders. But the man is keen, too smart. He wouldn't put on this sort of display. There's no need to show off the magic they both share by Lucian blood.
'Who are you', is the first thought Noctis conjures, but then realizes, he doesn't honestly care who he is. ]
What do you want?
[ He knows how he got here, he knows what he's going to have to do while he's here, so the only question Noctis needs answered is what are his intentions while he's here. Stranded on this ridiculous island where destiny and duty and ancient callings have no worth. If he doesn't intend to be a threat, if he won't bother his friends, then fine, so be it, suffer here with the rest of them.
But if he tries anything, anything, to disturb the semblance of peace Noctis and his friends have managed to keep on the island then he has no problem taking care of him before that ever becomes an issue. He's had enough of these stupid ghosts from decades in the past chasing after him, tormenting him, hurting his friends. Relative or not, even if they share the same blood, Noctis has no mercy unless he's given a damn good reason to develop any form of that emotion for this man. ]
ITS COOL IM STILL HERE
What does he want? How strange to be posited as such. Most come to him seeking the power of the Ring. Whether in this world or another, his own wants matter not compared to the necessity of the Light. Duty is present on this island, whether Noctis thinks so or not. It clings to the bloodline like their own shadows.
He answers thus: ] The light trumps all. Pray you do not neglect it.
[ At the same time....
He is not so cold to disregard that this realm could be a respite for the weary, young king. Voicing such a sentimental thing, however, is something he forfeits. ]
no subject
He took to his calling. He had to.
And this is the thanks he gets.
This is what he reserves. He could stand there before, in Bahamut's presence, and do nothing but listen until the deep, dark, long sleep took him. But this is different. This man has his face. He behaves in a manner of utter confidence, royalty, like a king, like a leader.
And he thinks he can tell Noctis not to neglect his power. He thinks he can tell him how to handle his duty, his purpose, when not a single person had ever told him of his future, and what it would lead to.
A sacrifice needs to be made. This is the culmination of your life. Years, memories, experiences, friendships, loss, pain, suffering. Nothing. Only the light matters.
Noctis erupts. ]
You think you can just show up here and wax a few poetic words of wisdom at me when you haven't got a single idea what I've been going through? Have you been up there with the rest of the Gods, watching me go through all of your errands, all your trials and puzzles like I'm some rat in a cage? Is that all this comes down to, me, the True King, here to save the day and fix every single thing none of you could fix on your own because that's just what you needed, some grand savior, some scapegoat, someone else with the power that you can't even bother to offer to every single human being on our star? Is that it, is that seriously all, you wanna ram another nail in my coffin?! I'm alive so that I can die for all of you stupid holier-than-thou Gods, and all you can tell me is not to neglect the light?! That's all I am, that's all I ever was! You can't even call me by my name! I have a name! My father gave me a name, not any of you!
no subject
Somnus had received his calling upon being crowned. He has subsequently seen his descendants sacrifice and perish to this Prophecy, only to enter the Ring, bound after death. Noctis is not the first to express his displeasure to him, demanding something more or cursing their fate. Each and every time, Somnus waits until the speaker finishes.
Despite his grim expression, he understands. Would that his brother need not suffer longer, that Noctis knows the walled peace of the Crown City once more and in life, the spirits of the Ring finally know rest, and the darkness absolves itself.
He knows the frustration and despair clearly wrought upon the Chosen’s face. His heart aches, but so soon torn from a metal form, it does not show upon the pale (former-)specter’s face— nor would it, for it would a disservice to the plight of their Star that suffers in darkness, her people crying for hope and light. There is, however, a practiced patience in his gaze as he waits for Noctis to continue.
If he needs to speak, he will listen.
There must be more for him to say. Better to turn this anger to him than the Draconian, he thinks. If Noctis is to suffer, let it not be because he directs unresolved fury at a far more unforgiving entity. Somnus will easily take the blame instead. And as he told his brother, he will never dare ask for forgiveness... for how could he ever? ]
no subject
[ Light sparks from his fingers as the Engine Blade appears from the Armiger. His shout echoes over the beach, but fades away under the roar of the cresting waves against the shore. Noctis clutches the hilt, knuckles white as he shakes and a fierce, ugly emotion passes over him. That he could just threaten the being before him with violence, force him to undo everything that has happened, threaten him with hate and anger and vengeance.
Just the way Ardyn has lived, for thousands of years.
His fingers go slack. He releases his hold of the weapon, but before it can drop to the sand below it fades away into the same flicker of light. His arm falls to his side. Noctis is still trembling.
He can't meet the other in the eyes. He doesn't want him to see the way he struggles. Not again. Not anymore. He won't let them wallow in his misery anymore. They don't deserve it.
What they've done to him... ]
Tell me, why...
[ Noctis chokes as he sobs, then falls quiet. His voice goes brittle, soft. ]
Why did you think I'd be strong enough to handle this...?
[ If sacrificing himself had been his destiny, if that's what the Gods had chosen of him, before he'd ever been born, then why did they give him this life in particular? Why couldn't they have made him suffer, left him miserable, alone, with nothing else worth living for, so giving up that part of himself would have been so much easier, because he had nothing else? Why did you give him a father that he so desperately wanted to be loved by, a woman who saved his life and whom he wanted to share everything with, friends who showed him how to have purpose and meaning, an entire beautiful world to explore full of wonderful things and fascinating people. Why did they give him all these things he wanted to love and cherish and live with forever?
Why did you give him this chance, and then take it away from him?
Prompto, Gladio, Ignis.
'Why would you give them me, and then leave them with nothing but my memory?' ]
no subject
Somnus does not speak for the Gods; however, he believes this: that if the Hexatheon created their world, and they are sworn to protect it, both Eos and her people were made in such a way that they were worth sacrificing for, fighting for, even to the point where the gods themselves turned on one of their wayward own in a bygone era. ]
The answer you seek [ He begins slowly, not to parse his words, but to give Noctis time to adjust. Somnus lifts his hand, pressing a hand to his own chest-- over his heart. ] lies within.
You must be strong, to save all that you love.
[ And Somnus knows for certain that Noctis does, indeed, have ample amounts of it. For his family, for his brothers, for the people he's met, for the beauty of Eos. From Regis' finger he's seen him as a young boy wonder at the world at large. Within the palm of Noctis' hand, he had seen him grieve after the Oracle's death. He was there when he vouched for Ignis, he was present when he struggled to focus when Prompto was cast from the train, he was there when Noctis was alone in the bowels of the Empire, fighting to reunite with those for whom he cared. The answer is obvious, that love for the world and others has pushed him forward.
He is strong, and what a curse it is that Noctis does not see it. ]