TDM 004: WASHED ASHORE

[erkumods]

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

Comments

Abel || Starfighter

[navigating]

— i. feeling crabby

[ Abel didn’t need any outside influences to be moody upon his arrival, disoriented and a little afraid, with a recent hurt keeping his heart heavy. Since settling in and drying off a little, he’s taken to sitting in the sand with his arms wrapped around his knees and gaze off into the horizon, determined to brood until the end of days, or at least until hunger pangs force him to move.

This leaves him susceptible to the little guys crawling all over, which he is paying no mind to because he doesn’t understand the importance of their newness or of the credits they could earn him. Attention elsewhere, one walks straight up to him and gives Abel a sharp pinch on the soft spot on the underside of his arm. He yelps, scrambling backwards and up onto his feet, looking for the offensive pincher. ]

Seriously. A crab?

[ When he sees the one that came at him, he scoops it up along with a handful of the sand beneath it, and nearly takes the steps forward to drop it back into the water as if that were any kind of inconvenience for a crab. Instead, his attention is caught by someone with a bucket nearby, and Abel smiles, mood lifting as if he’s seeing a long lost friend instead of a total stranger. He heads over, balancing the crab in his hands, and holds it out in offering. ]

I caught one for you.


— ii. dicks galore

[ It would be a lie to say that a dick party hasn’t been part of Abel’s wildest dreams, but he never imagined it quite in this form. He donned the provided toga, lacking much else to wear anyhow, though the bright pattern of yellow and green starbursts on grey are leaving him looking a bit washed out compared to his usual pale attire.

All the better to see the flush that has donned his cheeks since the very moment he’d arrived to the festival, making his way through with a look of interest in just about everything.

He’s managed to find a stall that’s got non-crab foods, once he asked one of the robots for something that wasn’t meat. The carved green vegetable before him is as obscene as everything else around here, but at least Abel can eat it. The catch, he’s told by the robot, is that he isn’t allowed to make his selection with his hands. He glances side to side to make sure no one is watching, and leans forward to put the head of the treat into his mouth. It takes a harder suck to dislodge the stick keeping it on display than he’d expected, but when he pulls victorious he is plus one (1) edible food, and realises that apparently also has caught someones eye. ]

Oh, damn it.

[ Hope you had fun watching him deepthroat a zucchini. He’s going to cover his face with the hand not holding onto his prize. ]

Please lie and tell me you didn’t see that.


— iii. hotfoot

[ Carried along by tides of the festival, Abel made his way to the beach with many others. One drink in, having enjoyed the fruity taste more than the alcohol itself, he makes his way to the fire. He’s never been one for letting loose, often accused of being uptight, but he finds himself rocking to the music, and tempted to do more. It seems a bit silly for him to break out into a dance by himself, can’t quite get into it, so he does the next logical thing: he looks around for a partner. Going up to someone who looks open to it, or maybe picking out someone who looks sour enough that they might need cheering up, he puts himself close enough to be heard above the noise. ]

Hey. [ He nearly doesn't find the momentum to keep talking from there, hesitating but overcoming it quickly enough. ] Umm. So. ... Do you wanna dance? With me, I mean.

[ Totally nailed it. ]


(ooc; Hella open to tagging from all but Abel is 18+ m/m so those are the only smutty courses of action I will be taking at this time. Ty! )

II

[blackdogstar]

[Impressive. Either this guy really likes vegetables, or he's trying to show off. Sirius is stopped in his tracks, and starts to slowly clap for Abel. He does stop up short when he sees how embarrassed the poor guy is.]

Well, if you insist. I saw nothing but your adorable blushing face.

[navigating]

[ While he wasn’t trying to show off, he is sure it was undoubtedly a show, however brief of one. The clapping doesn’t help him feel any less flustered about it. ]

He said I couldn’t use my hands to pick it up.

[ Somewhat muffled with his own arm in his face, and the robot gives a little nod of agreement. It takes a moment before he pulls the hand away, finally able to look over in Sirius’ direction without feeling like he’ll explode. The compliment helps, and he smiles broad enough for the scar on his lip to look a little brighter as it’s pulled taut, a little more obvious than it might have been at a glance. ]

I guess this place is like this, I’m just not used to it yet. But, y’know, thanks. For the lie.

[blackdogstar]

[Sirius raises an eyebrow at the robot, and starts to laugh.]

I guess I shouldn't be surprised, what with everything else about this place.

[Ah, he's even cuter when he isn't hiding his face! Though the embarrassed blushing look is a universal favorite.]

My pleasure. [A small glint in his eye that the double entendré there was purposeful.] Not a fan of shellfish, then?

[navigating]

Ah, it's not that I don't like them exactly. But... I've only ever had synthetic proteins.

[ Well, Abel figures that's arguably not entirely true. The debate over whether or not cum is technically vegan has likely been sorted out by his time, but he nevertheless feels the need to clarify. This Phestival done got his thoughts all jumbled up and yet kept them so single-minded, so he completely forgets to just bring up something obvious like soy, which he's had plenty of. ] In my meals. Um.

... Anyway. I'd run the risk of getting pretty sick.

[blackdogstar]

Ah, trying to avoid a meat stomachache.

[Not that very many wizards are vegan, but Sirius knew some Hindu kids at Hogwarts who didn't eat meat, and saw how miserable she was when she tried it once.

He has a look at the vegetable again and smiles a little wider.]

So how's the phallic shish kebab?

may I have this dance?

[canceller]

[He's overdressed. Not just for the occasion, but for the beach in general. Jeremiah hadn't donned his toga even after realizing what it was, determined to wear the clothes he'd like to, thank you very much, so this is really just par for the course. To his credit, he looks perfectly comfortable in a tailcoat and boots, even without much of a chill to the night. It's a little warmer yet for him, the drink in his hand not the first he's had, but that he doesn't mind. Frankly, it's why he's stayed around as long as he has, his cabinets still desolately dry and his credits too scarce to make the bar a habit. The music seems to keep him drawn here anyway, itching to do more than simply tap his foot.

Before he can even think of finally indulging, a face pops up beside him and beats his brain to it. Jeremiah's surprise is brief; being approached keeps happening to him here, instead of the other way around. It's still unusual, but... refreshing.]

I'll confess, this music isn't my typical style. [Certainly not the kind he learned dance to in boarding school. Yeah, he's one of those.] But certainly.

[Jeremiah takes the last generous sip to finish off his glass, setting it aside before offering a practiced hand, as if this were a gala and not a bonfire.]

[navigating]

[ It might have been the unusual attire that drew him to Jeremiah, who stood out like a sore thumb amidst the vibrant colors that came over from the festival. It's almost an act of solidarity to pick him out for that, since Abel himself had changed back into his comfortable white uniform — one of the few items he'd been given from his home. ]

Oh. Yeah, it's not really mine either.

[ Pauses, taking a moment to appreciate the music, eyes shutting as he finds himself swaying again. He snaps out of it, and is surprised to find a hand being offered. He's been around enough formal events in his youth that it's not a foreign gesture, though it was one he'd been taught to extend to others. He takes it all the same. ]

It's a little bit old-fashioned. But it's nice.

[canceller]

[Like that, it becomes familiar. Jeremiah clasps his hand properly, his other one settling lightly on Abel's back to draw himself to the right closeness. Appropriate for a dance partner, perhaps bold all the same for a stranger, but he'll commit as long as he's humored. It's what he knows.

He's not stiff once he starts to dip into the rhythm, a similar shift to the one that kept calling to Abel just a moment prior. No fancy footwork, just a pleasant sway as he's been itching to do since he got here, eased right into the pulse of the music. This close, Jeremiah can get a better look at his face in the firelight.]

What would you usually dance to?

[navigating]

[ The closeness isn't something Abel is about to protest, and though he's a little surprised this guy went for it so abruptly, he also... isn't. Given that he just came from a festival celebrating genitalia, Abel's learning to expect different things than what he was used to elsewhere.

He's a little stiff, but relaxing quickly, leaning like he's just seconds away from resting his head on Jeremiah's shoulder. ]

I don't usually dance to much of anything. [ He honestly can't recall the last time he did go dancing. It was easily some time back on Earth, what feels like a lifetime ago, and very likely was something he didn't even want to do and had made an effort to forget. ] But I'm trained on the violin, if that tells you anything about what music I grew up with.

[canceller]

[It's a careful balance, knowing how far or close to hold yourself. Jeremiah goes with what seems polite for the occasion but feels the tension in his frame. It bleeds out nearly as quickly as it came, so he maintains his hold.]

It sounds very familiar.

[As if you could expect otherwise from a man wearing a cravat? Not that it's stopping him from finding comfort in their rhythm; anything with a beat would do, infectious or not. Abel's shorter enough that there's a little compensation involved, but Jeremiah's used to that. It's pleasant, even though it's simple, even if he'd be lying if he wasn't wishing for a real floor. Perhaps...]

Never learned dance in a formal capacity?

I

[takeroot]

[Catching crabs is a much worse volunteer activity from last month, Constantin has already decided. It's been at least an hour and his bucket is still tragically empty, a consequence of how incredibly bad he is at getting his hands on any of the crabs as they scamper around. He's irritated by them without even being pinched half a dozen times, so when someone comes up with one in their hands, his gaze snaps over sharply—]

You— oh. [Oh, good, actually!! He holds the bucket out with renewed enthusiasm.] Trap the annoying little monster in here, then! That will earn us enough credits for one sip of wine each.

[Hoo-ray... At least he's ready and willing to share the wealth? He looks at the crab for a moment, then up at the young man's face.]

Shall we form a team? Split the earnings?

[navigating]

[ Abel drops the crab in, narrowly avoiding the angry claw that tries to take another swipe at him as gravity does its work. He's not really sure of the value of, well, anything around here just yet, so at hearing it marked as worth a sip of wine, he peers down at the hateful crustacean below and tries to envision what else it could go for. However, his attention snaps back quickly as the suggestion is made. ]

A team?

[ There's a moody part of him that had been considering never wanting to be a part of a team ever again, not but five minutes before. But post-pinch? This sounds delightful, and he's glad for the opportunity to be around the bucket-toting man. ]

You want to? Yes, okay. Let's do it!

[takeroot]

A team!

[Does it not sound like the best idea ever? It does to Constantin, who is this close to listing an assortment of Cool Team Names but decides no, not yet. He'll put a pin in that for later, instead tucking the bucket under one arm and tossing the other one around his new favorite crab hunter's shoulders to steer them back towards the mass of crabs.]

I will hold the nasty things in their bucket prison, and you will... toss them at me, I suppose.

[Which, now that he says it out loud, sounds a lot like he's going to stand there and do nothing, so on second thought--]

Or we can take turns. Set the bucket down and toss crabs around like wild little children.

[navigating]

[ Unfortunately, Abel is pretty used to things being unbalanced in his team, but that means he's just that much more delighted when Constantin recognises his proposal as unfair and changes it up. What a great guy, someone should clearly start suggesting team names for the two of them. ]

Wait, I have an idea!

Here, let me just... [ Ever innovative, Abel drops down and digs a little spot for the bucket to sit in. ] There, now it won't fall over!

[takeroot]

[Oh? He's... digging a hole. Hmm. Well, alright-- Constantin shuffles over to put the bucket down in it once Abel is through, and like, credit where credit is due: he wasn't going to dig a hole.

He straightens up and looks at it, hands on his hips. Actually...]

How lucky do you suppose we'd have to be to simply stand by while the crabs crawl this way and fall in to meet their maker? Or in this particular case, their pitiable tin fate.

[Can crabs... climb out of buckets... he has no idea.]

I

[vegalthon]

[Oran had heard 'credits' and instantly been at the waterside. They were useful, every now and again, if for no other reason than they kept the island's robots off his back.

He's by no means an expert, but that doesn't keep him from carrying a bucket around and occasionally using his long tail to jab his catches back in when they manage to skitter near to freedom. Crabby pinches aren't really affecting him, given the tip of his tail is as strange as his horns, the former being roughly the shape and texture of a pointed cleaver.]

When he sees a brand new face coming at him with an offering, he raises his brows.]

Shouldn't you keep that for yourself? They don't give credits away all that often without... you know.

[navigating]

Well, I don't have a bucket. And this thing pinched me, so I don't want it getting away scot-free.

[ In almost nearly any other situation, Abel's knee-jerk reaction to seeing Oran would not have been to be so at-ease, but the pinch has left him feeling that this guy can't be so bad. It's not that he's trying to cast judgements, but Abel's at war with an alien race back home, so those who are not typically human in appearance are something he approaches with caution.

He's still left curious, holding out the crab as an offering even as he looks up to the horns and any other curiosities he can easily find. ]

Take it, before it snaps at me again?

[vegalthon]

[The tiefling cautiously grabs it and dumps it in the bucket. That look had been so pure; he can't help but grin. It's a rare look around these parts, and of course he doesn't know about the side effects of these little clampers yet.]

Are you hurt?

[He's half-way joking; these things aren't particularly threatening, but Oran can't help but respond to the puppy-dog eyes.]

Would kissing it better help?

[navigating]

I'm not sure, it's kind of hard to see where it got me...

[ He's lifting up his arm to gesture to the underside of it, which has a small red mark that Abel would really have to twist and turn to get a decent look at. He might have tried that if he hadn't gone straight for chasing the crab in an act of revenge.

The comment catches him off guard, and he keeps his arm up where he might have been about to put it back down, a pale blush coloring his cheeks in an instant. ] It might help.

[vegalthon]

[Did he seriously get pinched near the elbow? Oran wonders how one got that far up his body to begin with... but he supposes he shouldn't judge what people do on the beach. He has no leg to stand on, on that front. Still doesn't, considering he leans in to offer a perfectly platonic, perfect placebo of a kiss.]

Huh.

[He lightly takes Abel's elbow, holding it up a little for a better look.]

I think... it's looking better already.

what a tweest, i want 2

[brambler]

[ mccree's a little reluctant to come down to the beach so easily. he takes the red and gold checkered toga that was given to him with some wariness. but, he can't turn down free food, let alone crab, which was a rarity for him already.

so, he wraps the toga up... but he also has his cowboy hat and his gun belt (and yes, the buckle says BAMF on it) as well, not wanting to be caught unarmed.

he is caught unawares by the slim blonde all but deepthroating the vegetable before he gets it picked up, unable to stop looking. however, when he seems embarrassed, mccree laughs gently. ]

I did, but I'm not really sorry about that.

[ and with that comment and a wink, he's leaning down to do the same to one of the other vegetables. enjoy the sight of mccree brushing his hair back as he swallows the entire thing, locking his teeth around the skewer it's impaled on, and pulling it up before he stands, pulling it out with a grin. ]

Fair's fair, right? Now we're even.

[navigating]

[ That is so not fair, and the playing field is not at all evened out by what McCree has done.

It's a wonder he hasn't snapped the skewer he's holding in half, with how hard he's gripping it, though it very well may have splintered in
his palm without his notice. In the light of the festival, it's hard to see the way his pupils have dilated, but it may be easy to guess with the way he's staring.

Abel is shocked to speechlessness for a moment, at war with himself because he's pretty sure he can't just pounce on this complete stranger in the middle of a street, tempted as he is. He licks his lips before forcing himself into speaking. ]

Um. N-No. See. I blinked, so you might need to... try again. Before it's even.

[brambler]

[ he's looking for that kind of reaction, so he takes it all in - the skewer bent a little funny now, the way he's staring, and the light flush to his cheeks. there's that flutter of pride at having undone someone already.

and then he comes up with that lame reason, but mccree grins like a wolf regardless. ]

Oh, definitely wouldn't wanna leave you hangin'.

[ and so, keeping his gaze on abel, he brings the vegetable up to his lips, peeking his tongue out to graze the tip before he pushes it back into his mouth. this time, the pink of his tongue is visible on the underside, and he closes his eyes, making a show of taking it.

then, when he tugs it out? his teeth close on the carved 'head' and snap it off. probably not very sexy, but hey, he put a pretty good show on, he's allowed to be mean. ]

[navigating]

[ Abel unintentionally moves himself a little closer to take it all in, near enough that he catches a faint whiff of smoke, something earthy and very unlike the brand Abel got used to breathing off the skin of another someone

The bite has him flinching, so enraptured in what he's watching that he nearly forgot that it was, at the end of the day, just a vegetable.

But, two can play at this game — especially if Abel acts on instinct instead of fretting the consequences, which he might have worried on more before that second demonstration. ]

So, like this?

[ Now, almost without thought, he reaches up to wrap his free hand around the one holding McCree's treat, puling it just a few inches down to where he can reach it better. Abel looks up to meet the taller man's eyes, attention not swaying away even as he licks up the side of the zucchini slowly, up to what's left of the tip, and taking a bite of his own. ]