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TDM 004: WASHED ASHORE
| TDM 004: WASHED ASHORE |
Arrival  This time, you come out of the water. While the Augur reboots, the Nameless Island's own inherent energy draws people in. It's like being suspended between realities and walking through a rift in dimensions. It may make you sick, or that might be the motion of the ocean, lifting you and carrying you to shore. Waterlogged and covered in sand, new arrivals will be greeted by robots who welcome them with towels and bracelet devices. The A5 card is already loaded up. Inventory will be found a day later, wrapped up haphazardly and delivered to each person's makeshift home. I. Feel the friendship!  Recent arrivals and visitors to the beach may notice a sudden influx of hundreds of bright red crustaceans crawling (and coupling) across the sand. It's crab mating season, as it turns out, it's a regular invasion! To keep the beach a pleasant place to gather for the island's inhabitants, the robots are offering credits to especially enterprising crab-catchers. Grab a bucket and get to work! Be sure to watch out for their pinch, mind you. Their little claws are tiny, but that doesn’t mean they don’t hurt. Surprisingly, there is another effect that even the robots don't anticipate: islanders who are pinched by the crabs find themselves feeling instantly buddy-buddy with the next person they spot. Did you just become best friends?! Get pinched one too many times, however, and those feelings may sour into a crabby mood, indeed. If you are feeling particularly vengeful (or just hungry), the little crabs do make for delicious gumbo. Once cooked, they have no side effects whatsoever. II. Phallus Phestival  Although the Augur is offline and supplies are scarce, the robots of Erku are still eager to make their run-down little island a welcoming place for the new arrivals. To that end, they have arranged a three day festival to boost morale and promote the generation of plenty of Eros energy to assist in the restoration of the damaged and decayed parts of the city. The robots claim that this celebration was once a cornerstone of the long-lost civilization of the island. By the dawn of the first day, every island resident will find at their doorstep (or tent flap, mobile suit, etc) the traditional costume of the ancient islanders to wear to the festival. It appears to be... a giant sheet? There doesn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to the sometimes garish colors and patterns of the fabric, but at least the robots have uploaded instructions on how to wear it to your bracelet device. Attendees will find food (mostly crab-flavored), confections, and household necessities in rather suggestive shapes, as well as goods you might find handy to complete your A5 squares: sex toys, pervertibles, sexy maid outfits, and the like. While islanders are welcome to set up shop on the festival grounds and sell (or charge) whatever they like, all items from the robots are offered up for free to those who wear their traditional island garb! III. Fireside Adventures  Each night of the festival is wrapped up in style with an enormous bonfire on the beach, where drinks, fruity cocktails, and lively music appropriate for dancing is all provided at no cost by the robots. Even if you’re not usually much of a dancer, the longer you stand by the fire and allow it to warm your limbs, the more you feel like moving! Not only that, but everyone is looking quite beautiful by the firelight, are they not? If you’ve grown tired - or if dancing just isn’t your thing - you might prefer to sit back and swap stories on one of the many driftwood log benches the robots have prepared for seating. Or, maybe you’d prefer to rough it for the night in one of the beachside canvas tents. Better claim one quick, though, or be prepared to share… there’s only one sleeping bag! N A V I G A T I O N |
Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy | The Witcher
Regis has never particularly wondered what flotsam and jetsam must endure, but he thinks he has a far better idea of it now as he finds himself washed up on an unfamiliar shore. Drowning is one of the least of his worries, but he still finds himself emptying his stomach of seawater with very little dignity.
He doesn't recall how he might have ended up in the water in the first place, as the nearest body of it had been a river, not an ocean. For a moment, Regis sits there on the sand, trying to take in his strange new surroundings. It seems almost tropical, which would suggest somewhere further south or west than he had been. It certainly doesn't resemble any shoreline he's ever seen in Toussaint.
As bewildered as he is by his predicament, Regis doesn't have it in him to ignore the suffering of others. When he hears someone nearby having a rough time of it, he stumbles over. His legs are still a bit wobbly after--whatever he'd been through.
"Are you alright?"
II. Phallus Phestival
There's something about the festival that is just delightful. Maybe it's the colors and the sheer audacity of it. Regis foregoes the traditional costume at first, hoping he won't particularly offend anyone.
Given the serious influx of crusteceans, he isn't surprised to find that the majority of the food is based on that particular resource. What really amuses him, however, is the sheer number of things made into phallic shapes. It's fascinating, and Regis browses nearly every stall and booth he can find between sampling food and drink. He's careful with what he imbibes, if only because he has no idea how the food here will agree with him.
Before the end of the day, someone has talked him into the traditional costume, though he has layered it over his tunic. He's grateful for the relatively tame color of the fabric, as standing out is rarely ever his desire. At some point he pauses to adjust the decorative pin holding the loose ends of the toga in place.
"Excuse me, could you hold this a moment? I'm finding this may take three hands."
III. Fireside Adventures
The bonfire draws him and before long Regis finds himself sinking down to sit on the warm sand, a drink in hand as he rests his back against one of the driftwood benches. It occurs to him that he should claim somewhere to sleep, though, honestly, if he ends up spending a night beneath the sky, he won't be disappointed. It is shaping up to be a beautiful night.
"I don't suppose this place is prone to sudden turns of weather," he phrases it almost like a question for those gathered nearby. "Should I be making more of an effort to find somewhere to shelter for the night?"
IV. Wildcard
[OOC: For those who might be aware of these things via scent, Regis is a vampire. He is undetectable by magical means, but a good nose or an observant pair of eyes might find something off. He doesn't cast a shadow and typically carries around strong herbs to mask his scent. Find Regis anywhere on the beach or at the festival! Feel free to surprise me, PM if you have any questions!]
i feel blessed. this is a ii.
Seeing Regis turn up where he least expects him yet again instantly brings those emotions to the fore once more. They'd had very little time to catch up before Geralt was whisked away here, and he's regretted that deeply. At least this circumstance isn't as pressing. The familiar scent of herbs is strong even from a distance of several booths. For a moment Geralt watches Regis wrap the dark cloth around his deceptively thin frame with a combined sort of amusement and fondness before he approaches, just in time to step up in response to his request.
"Sure. Got a fourth if you need it," he offers. His lips curl up at the corners, though the smile is most obvious in his eyes, and in the warmth that can be heard in the low rumble of his voice.
As asked, Geralt puts a hand on Regis's shoulder to hold the loose end of the fabric in place to be pinned.
"You look a lot less ridiculous in this than everyone else," he notes wryly. Geralt himself has resisted all efforts to get him into a toga, wearing instead a pair of simple breeches and a linen shirt along with boots that are proving to be a little too heavy for the beach.
no subject
"I look like a statesman in the heart of Nilfgaard," he insists. Dignified, perhaps, but feeling no less out of place. "It seemed easier to go along with it after the third or fourth time someone remarked about my utter lack of festive spirit. Far be it from me to deny the local customs."
His expression softens and he reaches up again to squeeze Geralt's shoulder. The matter of Detlaff had curtailed any real catching up, which he regrets. It's easy to think that one might have time later, when Regis knows better than most how untrue that can be. Time is hardly a guarantee, even for someone who has lived as long as he has.
"My dear friend, where have we found ourselves this time?"
no subject
A hand on his shoulder is fine, but after the welcome surprise of seeing him so unexpectedly twice in a row, Geralt is compelled to embrace him instead, which he does with an arm across his shoulders and the other curling around his back. It's a short but tight squeeze, which he releases Regis from with a slow exhale.
"Been here a few months already and it's still a mystery." He stands back far enough to look at the vampire properly. "Could give you the run down of what I know, though."
no subject
"And yet it has not been that long since I last saw you. Strange."
Does time pass differently between here and the world they came from? Is it truly another world? It must be. He knows the possibility exists, naturally, though he doubts a full Conjunction happened without his noticing.
"I would like to hear," he admits, gesturing for them to go anywhere other than standing in the general flow of foot traffic.