ercookies | TDM 015: IT'S ALWAYS SUNNY IN PARADISE

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TDM 015: IT'S ALWAYS SUNNY IN PARADISE

00. Arrival

You come out of the water, the Nameless Island's own inherent energy drawing people in. It's like being suspended between realities and abruptly pushed from behind through a rift in dimensions. It may make you sick, or that might be the motion of the ocean, lifting you to the surface 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. If you don’t manage to get away from them quickly enough, they may even usher you toward the Laid Bare Spa, where new arrivals will be offered free massages, a sauna, hairstyling, and their clothing may come up permanently missing. But you will be given a complimentary towel to leave with if needed!

Feel free to explore the Island, though there isn’t much to see beyond what arrivals before you have helped to rebuild. Most of the buildings are abandoned and in dire need of repair, and beyond the city lingers a thick fog that obscures much of the wilderness from view. Wander too far into this fog, and you will find yourself mysteriously looping back to where you began, your memories of what you were doing and how you got there erased.

With that in mind, it may be wise to stake your claim on a place to live in the now, whether a rundown apartment in the City, a tent on the beach, a bed in the barracks, or your own space at the House of Worship. Your inventory will be found a day later, wrapped up haphazardly and delivered to each person's makeshift home.

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I. Beach Episode

Welcome to your beautiful and sunny island paradise, Erku! ...wait, it's sunny? That's right! For about two weeks, the Island will enjoy unusually warm and clear weather, just perfect for enjoying the cool waters of the beach. Don't swim out too far, however, lest you stray into hazardous choppy waters or get lost in the fog that still lingers beyond the peaceful cove. Just stay close, and you're golden! Once again, friendly robots have erected beachside food stalls for grilling fish and crabs, and encourage any enterprising Islanders to help hawk foods for credits.

If gutting and cleaning fish isn't your forte, however, never fear. The robots are recruiting for a very important task! You see, they have very thoughtfully set up swimming and snorkeling lessons for any Islanders who are doubting their skills at staying afloat, or who just want to have some fun in the waves. There is only one complication: the robots are too heavy to swim.

Enter, you! Earn credits by instructing your fellow Islanders in the marvels of the ocean. Not just swimming and snorkeling, but also fishing, clam digging, and sand castle art - among other things - are valuable skills you can sell.

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II. Sand Sport

For the more competitive sort, the robots of Erku are happy to share a bit of culture from the planet's ancient past: wet sand wrestling! Volunteers (or any innocent Islander roped off the beach by an enthusiastic 'bot) don their skimpiest swimwear and duke it out for dominance in the wet sand by trying to throw their opponent outside of a ring. Knock-outs count as an automatic lose, so be careful! Oh, and no worries if you aren't particularly strong. Before the match, competitors are offered a a special drink - simply named "The Creamy" - an ancient recipe which is said to temporarily increase your strength and vitality. One shot of this, and anyone could take on Goliath! (And not just in a fight.)

By the way… those who lose the competition are mysteriously compelled to accompany the victor for the day, waiting on them hand and foot, anticipating and fulfilling their needs before they are spoken. Did the 'bots forget to mention that?

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III. Graciously Given Gifts

While swimming in the nude is completely acceptable on the Island, the robots know that many residents still (for some reason) value their modesty. That is why they are happy to encourage beachside revelry and communion by making sure scanty swimwear is readily available to Islanders who are in need of something to cover up with - while still showing off your assets, of course. Islanders may purchase for themselves, but they are especially encouraged to gift swimwear to their fellow Islanders... in fact, any swimwear to be given as a gift is free! Not only is it a lovely gesture to let a friend or lover know you appreciate their body, but also, swimwear received as a gift is said to be very good luck in wet sand wrestling competitions.

Naturally, the robots are sensitive to the emotional needs of their organic charges, and thus they wouldn't want any new, recent, or less personable arrivals to the Island to feel left out for not receiving gifts. That's why some Islanders will find surprise swimsuits in pretty gift wrap sitting on their literal or metaphorical doorstep… addressed with love from a random Islander! With thoughtfully written messages included, of course, usually complimenting the recipient's figure in graphic and/or poetic terms.

If you have any manners, surely you'll find these mystery admirers and thank them for the lovely gift! (If you're really a person of culture, maybe you'll even show it off for them.)

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N A V I G A T I O N

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"It is a teacher's duty to watch over his pupils' growth, is it not? You may think what you like." Yes. Yes, it was intentional. Felix has such potential in him, and yet chooses to strangle it so mercilessly..... How could he simply stand by and say nothing, knowing that Felix is killing himself inch by torturous inch?

Seteth folds his arms over his knees, patiently listening to the litany of grievances Felix lays out. No explanation of his circumstances whatsoever, unwilling to let the robots help him clean up, no money, scorched by the sort of weather Faerghus almost never sees..... Small wonder the man is miserable, hmmm? They'll have to see what they can do about this.

"I doubt I'll have satisfactory answers to all your questions, but Ill answer what I can; I've been here for several months, now. Shall I fetch some ointment for those burns so we can talk?"

"I suppose." In truth, after the first time or two that he and Seteth talked back at the monastery, Felix never really minded when the man would show up while he was training and want to chat about one thing or another. And after what happened at Gronder Field, Seteth was one of very few people Felix could stand to talk to at all.

"Months?" Felix blinks at him. "That's not possible. I saw you yesterday, in Derdriu." He would have said more, but Seteth mentions ointment, and he's just enough over the edge of 'too miserable to hold onto his pride' that he nods. "All right."

"Let's start with that. One moment." Seteth holds up a finger as he stands, turning to head off towards the kiosks the robots had set up. The time discrepancy is a good thing to branch from, really--they may as well get the brain-bending metaphysics out of the way, before they discuss the smaller details. How else is he going to know how to react to people who don't remember the same things as he does?

By the time Seteth returns, he's carrying a bottle of soothing lotion and a bracelet identical to the one he's wearing himself, holding it out for him to take. If the robots had been rebuffed before they could provide it, someone has to make sure Felix has access to the network..... "You'll want to hold onto this; these bracelets are important to living comfortably on this island. But as for Derdriu..... You should be aware that this place seems to be entirely removed from space and time in Fodlan."

Felix takes the opportunity while Seteth is off fetching the lotion to quickly finish his lunch and set the plate aside. Best not to be distracted for...whatever's happening, here.

He frowns at the bracelet he's being offered, but takes it anyway, lifting it up to examine it. If it came from nearly anyone else, he'd refuse it outright. But...he trusts Seteth.

That takes a distinct backseat to what comes next, though. He blinks. "Removed from...? I don't understand what that means."

"It means that time passing here has absolutely no relation to time passing in Fodlan. You could spend a decade here, and return a mere heartbeat after you left--or you could meet someone who is much older or younger than they should be, or someone who should be long since dead. It means that we have no way to reach Fodlan at all from here, save through whatever magic was used to pull us here to begin with--even if you could sail or fly the whole of this world, it isn't connected to our own world in any way."

That..... is the easy part. Time. Space. Easy concepts to grasp. They're stranded, and it doesn't matter how long they spend here. The rest of it though? That's somewhat more difficult to put into words. But to not explain it immediately--that's a breach of trust, isn't it? To remain silent on that point is to invite accusations of betrayal. Just because they personally hadn't fought together doesn't mean they're enemies--or at least, he doesn't want it to mean that.

"Because this place is so completely apart from the Fodlan we know, it also means that people can experience the same events unfolding differently. I remember fighting under Claude's banner, not Dimitri's, but I suspect that you remember me fighting at your side. Both of those things are true."

Someone who should be long since dead. Felix almost misses the rest of what Seteth says, his mind snagging on this. Anyone could be here, then. Anyone at all. ...Rodrigue could be here. Glenn could be here. His mother, or King Lambert...anyone.

He manages to catch up in time to hear that they can't get home, because as far as this place is concerned, home doesn't exist. That's horrifying enough, but then...

"...Claude? You fought for the Alliance?"

So this Seteth in front of him doesn't remember being there to talk him through things when Rodrigue died. Doesn't remember celebrating with them in Fhirdiad, or meeting up at the monastery and finding the professor, or...any of those other conversations they've had over the past year.

Felix knows that it's stupid to view this as some kind of betrayal. Seteth is the same person, regardless of whether the Church backed Leicester or Faerghus. He seems to remember enough at least to still have some interest in Felix as a person, if he bothered to come over here and start all this. But it still feels wrong.

He tries to shove that feeling away. "I...you're correct. In my war, you fight with us. Not Claude. How can both of those things be true?"

"I don't claim to understand it entirely. But you could think of it like this: it doesn't matter where or when we are, we can still be brought together like this in spite of that. The fact that we can come from different times means there are opportunities for people to make different decisions, decisions that can have serious consequences on the flow of history."

It's as he'd imagined, then. Felix had stood behind Dimitri, then. Of course he had. No matter what animosity the man bore his prince--his king--, that alone hadn't been enough to sever the bonds between them. And just as he'd thought, Felix remembers him as an ally, one surely supporting Dimitri just as wholeheartedly as he had served Claude.

He himself had played no part in the decision of who to ally himself with; he had been no closer to Dimitri than he had been to Claude, during their Academy days. He hadn't known that anyone would show up at Garreg Mach, when he had returned after five grueling years of combing the countryside. That Claude--or Dimitri, assuming circumstances had been roughly similar--and his classmates had returned to the monastery and been willing to lend the Knights their strength was an unexpected blessing, nothing short of a miracle.

Still..... he can understand how it might feel, hearing that his own allegiances lie elsewhere. It must seem he's abandoned them. Seteth reaches out to cover one of Felix's hands with his own, warm and callused, a smaller gesture than he'd like to offer. But Felix probably wouldn't appreciate anything too overt, would he?

"In our case, it seems that the most important difference is who the Professor chose to teach. You all made a promise to reunite for the Millennium Festival, didn't you? It seems that no matter who gathered that day, I was there to greet them."

Different decisions. Felix feels as though he's made a thousand important decisions over the last five years, and yet in some ways he feels as though he's made none at all that weren't already decided for him long ago. He hates the thought that he might now need to confront choices already made and try to predict what might have happened if things had gone differently. He loathes revisiting the past, no matter how much it might still haunt him despite his every effort. Will he need to do this with everyone here that he knows from Fodlan?

He stiffens at the sudden physical contact and almost pulls his hand away. As much as he's relied on Seteth's wisdom and experience in his personal life, the man doesn't usually touch him. It's rare that anyone touches him outside of training or battle; occasionally Sylvain or Mercedes, but that's about it.

But he does have great respect for Seteth, and it's clearly not malicious or threatening, and...not that he'd admit it, but it does serve to make him feel a little better. Like Seteth still...is making an effort to reach out to him, despite their divergent histories.

So he doesn't move, nor does he acknowledge the contact. He just listens, and nods. "We did. So in the Fodlan you remember, the Professor taught the Golden Deer? And it was they who met up at the monastery and drove those bandits out, not us?"

Then what happened to Dimitri? He doesn't voice the question. Not now. Later, maybe.

"But the Alliance has barely made a single move. They were teetering on the edge of a civil war until recently, and now Claude's dropped the entire country in Dimitri's lap and left the continent."

That sudden tension is inevitable; Felix could hardly be called a warm or expressive man by any stretch of the imagination. For that matter, very few people would consider him one either, would they? But that doesn't mean they shouldn't try. It doesn't mean that he cares any less, just because Felix and his friends hadn't been the ones to become his comrades. It was just..... luck, that was all. One simple promise he'd either made and kept, or hadn't even considered, and nothing more.

But Felix doesn't pull away or push back, so Seteth allows himself to simply be there in whatever capacity the man will allow, nodding in agreement. "A fair assessment--but for us, an incomplete one. Claude felt it was worth the risk to strike at the root of that conflict directly, rather than stretch ourselves thin attempting to quell the Alliance's in-fighting. Between the support of like-minded Alliance lords, and the Knights of Seiros, there was enough power behind his schemes to cut a path to Enbarr itself."

Seteth offers Felix a faint, incredulous smile. It sounds ridiculous to put their campaign into so few words, doesn't it? But leaving the Kingdom's resistance and Alliance's simmering civil unrest intact had done a fair bit to ensure that the Empire had been forced to concentrate on fighting on multiple fronts. What in the world could have driven Claude to flee Fodlan entirely? Had he just..... given up on the Alliance, and retreated to Almyra? Put his faith in Dimitri, after seeing him rally the people to rebel?

"Even a single misstep would have been suicide, using such a small force to try and pierce the heart of the Empire. But those gambles paid off. For me, at least, the war is over."

The war is over. Seteth says it so simply, like one might turn the final page of a book and reach its end, just like that. Felix can hardly imagine the war's end. What will he even do with himself when it's over? Take up his father's title and retire from the field to play bureaucrat? Eugh.

He arches a brow, hearing about Claude's dangerous schemes, gambles that nevertheless apparently won them the war. He never knew Claude well, and never really cared to, but the man's political savvy over the last five years has impressed even Felix, who knows and cares little for politics to begin with.

"It certainly sounds like Claude's kind of war. High risk, high reward. He's an unconventional tactician who'll do anything to win. I can respect that."

He thinks back on their own campaign so far. More of a shitshow, really. "We started off with a small force, as well. Once we found Dimitri at Garreg Mach, my father and Gilbert insisted he rally what was left of the Kingdom behind the true king, with you and the Knights of Seiros as our allies, but he was a pathetic mess of a man. In no condition to rally or rule anything."

Felix scowls just remembering it all. "So he made us push into the Empire with our depleted forces for the sake of his mindless revenge. Wasting resources and lives on pointless slaughter. It wasn't until my father gave his life to save Dimitri's that he pulled his head out of his ass and reclaimed his throne. We still might have struggled if it wasn't for Claude requesting aid to repel the Empire's invasion of Leicester. Afterward, he remerged the Alliance with the Kingdom under Dimitri's rule, handed over his relic, and flew off to Goddess knows where."

He shrugs. "We were planning to go back to Garreg Mach and regroup for the final push to Enbarr. Then I washed ashore here."

"Indeed. Only he could possibly have made such a fool's errand bear fruit." It had been unconventional and foolhardy to the extreme, challenging a foe so many orders of magnitude larger than them with such limited troops and supplies, in such a tight timeframe. Even forcing their way into the nearly impenetrable fortress..... The odds had never once been in their favor.

Exactly as Claude liked it, no doubt. Of course they had been underestimated until it was too late, protected by the sheer, brazen absurdity of those stunts. Even Seteth can't help the hint of fond exasperation creeping into his tone.

Felix's recounting sobers him quickly enough, though. Dimitri reduced to a mad wretch, consumed with the desperate need for revenge and blind to all else, hardly able to tell friend from foe on his rampage--he remembers that sight all too well, even though he hadn't stood at the man's side. But that he could be pulled back from the brink before Edelgard and her men finished him, at the cost of Rodrigue's life.....

How abhorrent. The very thought turns his stomach. It's not a noble deed, not a chivalrous death, not a fitting or admirable end, not something to cling to for cold comfort in your grief--it's a tragedy. It's a Goddess-damned waste. Had Dimitri been truly so far gone that only the voices of the dead could reach his ears, rather than the pleas of those who weren't yet lost?

Seteth doesn't voice any of it; Felix doesn't need to hear it, after all. He simply squeezes Felix's hand instead, voice soft and solemn. "I'm sorry. Your father was a good man."

The fond way Seteth talks about Claude seems odd to Felix, particularly since he can clearly remember hearing him lecture the Deer house leader many times over one ridiculous stunt or another. But he supposes they've all grown up, in their own ways. Some more than others. Certainly, Claude had been impressive as a commander in battle, at least.

Felix has had this conversation with Seteth once before, about his father, and he has no wish to have it again. But even knowing that, and knowing he wouldn't hear the usual sickening speech about noble sacrifice from Seteth of all people, he can't help feeling grateful anyway for the response. His gaze flickers down to where Seteth's hand covers his, but only very briefly. He doesn't react to the squeeze, but still doesn't pull away either. It's...not bad, he decides. This contact.

"...thank you. I suppose he was."

Rodrigue was a good man, even Felix wouldn't argue that. He just wasn't a very good father.

Oh well.

Definitely time to talk about anything but that.

"What is this thing?" He holds up the bracelet in his other hand.

A good man, but not a very good father. Perhaps they had more in common than anyone might guess at first glance? Even Seteth might be surprised to hear it, should anyone think to make the comparison; they hadn't spoken often, but Seteth had respected Rodrigue well enough when they'd had the chance to meet. To think such a skilled knight would be forced into such a position.....

Well. Now isn't the time to ask about that, isn't it? Felix has surely struggled with the loss enough; he doesn't need that wound torn open any further. They have an entirely new way of life to prepare Felix for instead. Seteth shakes his head, regathering his thoughts. "These bracelets allow us to more or less integrate into the society the golems have made for themselves. Perhaps most importantly, so long as we wear them, speaking different languages isn't an issue--people here come from countless different worlds, and we couldn't make ourselves understood otherwise."

Remember trying to talk with Petra, Felix? At least she had a good grasp on the Fodlan language. "They also keep track of the money we earn; it's called credits, rather than using real gold. They're also used for the Augur--that would be the being that brought us here--to make demands of us, and to communicate over long distances with each other. There are ways to restrict that communication, but that wouldn't stop someone knowledgeable enough from eavesdropping, if they saw fit. I would trust speaking over these to be no more private than a conversation held in public like this one."

Felix frowns at the bracelet while Seteth explains. Integrate into this society? What society? As far as he can tell, the city is a ruin and these automata run everything. He has to grudgingly admit that eliminating language barriers is useful, although what exactly Seteth means by 'different worlds' as distinct from 'different Fodlans' goes a little over his head.

He scowls at the mention of this Augur person. Or being, or whatever. "What gives this Augur the right to demand anything of us? From what I'm hearing, we're prisoners here. Snatched from our homes to populate a dead land and give a bunch of creepy automata purpose. There are enough of us here to storm a castle or field a small army; why hasn't anyone confronted this Augur yet and forced them to send us home?"

Seteth can only shake his head at that. It's no surprise that Felix is angry, is it? They all are initially, he's sure. He'd been angry, too. If he thinks about it, he's still angry--but more and more, he understands the pitiable position the Augur might be in, as well. He knows all too well the feeling of having no options left, of sheer desperation, of forcing himself to ignore his conscience and do deplorable things for the sake of greater good. Perhaps he's giving too much credit to it, attributing human sentiments and genuine good intentions to a supercomputer..... but what if he isn't? What if he's one of the only people here who is willing to try to understand?

"It appears the Augur either isn't capable of doing so yet, or hasn't figured out how to. Bringing us here was likely an act of desperation. Some time ago, this world was subject to some unknown catastrophe--one that seems to have wiped out nearly all life, and left the land itself blighted. I don't entirely understand how, but it seems the Augur is able to harness some kind of energy from carnal relations to revitalize the land."

It's the most diplomatic way he can think to phrase 'we all need to fuck to save the world', sorry Felix.

It's in fact so diplomatic that it takes Felix a minute to fully parse what Seteth said.

"I don't care about some long-destroyed world that has nothing to do with any of us. If it can bring us here, it can send us back. If it needs additional motivation, I'll be happy to provide it. Where--"

That's when it catches up to him, and he stops. Blood rushes to his face so fast that it's probably visible even beneath the sunburn.

"...energy from what"

"From physical intimacy." Felix looks so flustered at the very idea..... He hates to be the one to bring it up, but this is an unavoidable part of reality here. As long as they live on this island, it's something they're all forced to be mindful of. Is this place going to steal away Felix's innocence, as well? What a miserable way to have your first time taken from you..... Sex is supposed to be something precious, a gift you share with someone you love.

Have another sigh. "Given it only grants favors after people fulfill its requests, I suspect it may need that energy to power any significant acts it performs. But the Augur is in the hospital; you're free to confront it, though I doubt the golems would allow any violence."

"Please be mindful that many, many things on this island are meant to encourage such intimacy, both naturally and by design. Be cautious of unfamiliar flora and fauna you may encounter, and of the food the golems provide for free; that is almost always drugged. You may want to take up hunting and fishing, if you want a reliable source of safe meat."

"So these demands it makes. They're of a...an intimate nature?" Felix can't believe he's having this conversation to begin with, but having it with Seteth of all people is just surreal. Aren't Knights of Seiros celibate or something? No, that can't be right, Alois is married...but still.

"Hmph. I would like to see them try to stop me." But it's more a grumble than a real threat; he probably isn't going to burst into the hospital, sword in hand. Probably.

"Excuse me? Drugged? And everyone just...accepts this?" Felix stares at him, incredulous. "Ugh. Yes, I know how to hunt and fish. I'll need a bow and a rod, if I can get my hands on them without being accosted with...any of that." He waves his hand vaguely at the closest automaton.

He starts to rub his face with one hand, but halfway through he remembers that his face is lobster-red and painful, and stops with an annoyed grunt. "You said something about long-distance communication. What does that mean?"

"That's right. It asks for people to complete specific 'auspicious' acts, however it determines those are particularly beneficial coming from that person. No doubt you'll receive your own list soon enough." Seteth is..... reluctant to show his own card to demonstrate, to be honest. Discussing things in the abstract like this is awkward enough, but does he really need to show Felix records of his own love life here so far? Maybe he can get by without needing to do so.....

"There's little to do but accept it, or ensure you have the money or skills to obtain safer supplies. I took up manual labor to ensure I didn't need to rely on such dubious, self-serving 'charity' for too long. As for the communication....."

"You can write, speak, or even capture images through these bracelets, no matter where you happen to be. Even at completely opposite ends of the island, you could hold a conversation almost as comfortably as though you're face to face. I can help you learn how to use it, if you'd like--though perhaps that can wait a bit longer?" Seteth offers the bottle he'd fetched, eyebrow raised. Please take care of yourself, Sir Sword-lobster.

Fortunately, Felix does not want to see records of Seteth's love life anywhere, and doesn't even really want more information at all, but... "What kind of...'auspicious acts'?" he asks, slow and cautious, and then hurriedly adds, "I don't need a whole list, just...some idea of what to expect."

He shakes his head, disgusted with this whole place. "I'll simply have to hunt and forage for myself, then. I'm hardly a stranger to it." Faerghus is a harsh land; even nobles have to learn survival skills.

He gives Seteth a dubious look at this talk of capturing images and such, but it's not like Seteth's going to lie to him. Must be some kind of magic, he figures. Then he looks at the bottle with blank confusion.

"I...would appreciate the assistance, yes. What's that?" He nods at the lotion.

"There is a significant range. But for example, hmmm..... blindfolding or tying up your partner, or allowing them to do so to you?" Those shouldn't require any explanation, should they? A simple, easy act to perform, just so he has some idea of what he might be expected to do--and so they aren't forced to get any more into depth on the subject than Felix absolutely needs him to.

"It's ointment for that burn. Go on." While Felix is occupied with the bottle, Seteth takes a moment to fiddle with his bracelet, navigating to a his saved videos. This example, at least, is considerably more pleasant to offer?

"Here. This happened several months ago, but I recorded it so I could watch again later. If I wanted to, I could send it to your bracelet so you could watch it directly, as well." A video is projected onto the sand nearby. Felix might recognize Seteth's wyvern as he romps around with a war horse, roaring in excitement as they take turns chasing each other.

Ah. Well, that's not helping Felix's embarrassed blush any. Why would anyone want to be blindfolded when they--no. No, he isn't going to ask. Not Seteth, anyway. Ashe?...maybe. "...all right."

Oh, the ointment. He forgot about it in all the rest of this nonsense. "Right. Thank you." He opens the bottle and squeezes out a generous amount of the lotion, then starts rubbing it into his arms and chest as he watches this...image. Moving image. What the hell? He looks his own bracelet over; he hasn't put it on yet, but if what Seteth is saying is true, he can make those images too. Somehow.

"How did you do that?" A pause. "Your wyvern is here?"

"He's further down the shoreline, at the moment. I'd rather he not scare anyone who might think he's a monster encroaching on the town." But he doesn't want Pebbles to miss out on this strangely pleasant weather they're having, either. Sunlight and warmth? He's probably splashing around in the surf and snapping at crabs, no doubt.

"This place has technology far more advanced than Fodlan does. I'm not the best person to explain the finer details of how it works, but these things capture and store what they see and hear--" Seteth points out the camera lens. "--and are connected to be able to send that between each other."

"Is that a common threat here?" If so, maybe Felix can earn credit with his sword instead of with his...well, sword. Ugh, great, this place is already bringing out the little Sylvain voice that lives in his brain.

He peers at the camera lens, but has no real idea what he's looking at. "That's fine. I don't need details. I just need to know how to use it."

He continues rubbing the lotion into his skin, despite the sand he's already covered with making it feel disgustingly gritty. He shifts position so he can get at his legs next.

"Monsters? They're not common too near the city, but the further afield you go, the more of an issue they become. I've been using them to keep Pebbles fed." Not an especially lucrative practice, but convenient, at least--and far less expensive than attempting to buy that much meat. Even one wyvern is a significant investment to take care of.

"Once you get past how strange it is, they're simple enough to use. It's easiest to just think of them like an odd sort of bulletin board." A magical, imaginary bulletin board accessed by using a bracelet, but..... well. The network is close enough to one, isn't it? A communal space for sharing information and getting others' attention?

00. Arrival

I. Beach Episode

II. Sand Sport

III. Graciously Given Gifts

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