Something in the air...

[polymods]

✖ The Isle That Blooms

Ⅰ. ARRIVAL
You can read all about your character's arrival in the game lore.
This is the first isle you can smell before you see it rising on the island. It starts with the faint hint of growing things that blossoms into a floral scent that teases you with the combination of familiarity and the unknown. The next breeze seems to carry you closer even as it coats everything in a delicate wash of golden pollen that only the Ferryman seems to be able to avoid.

Do you like your lips to taste the gritty sweetness? Or are you already starting to sniffle? Either way, the island starts as a smudge then turns into a riot of color as it reveals itself.

The Isle that Blooms lives up to its name as flowers vie in a silent war of roots and strangling vines to cover every viable surface with sprays of color and vibrant pulsing life. There are signs of human life in the form of a village built on stilts and full of little anachronisms like a glowing neon sign that hint that the island sees a large number of Travelers come through this place.

And who wouldn’t be drawn to the abundant flora, brightly painted houses, and lively locals?

Everyone seems to be glowing with health as the locals gather near the dock to welcome the latest set of tourists. They come with arms full of flower wreaths and friendly smiles, clearly in control of their faculties and interested in trade. Their clothing is as bright as the paintings on their buildings, as the flowers that surround them, and perfect for the warmth of the day.

Do you notice, though, the absence of any babies or prepubescent children? Or that while there are old people, no one shows signs of the infirmities that come with age? It might be easy to miss, especially as the Isle starts to affect you, too.

The ache in your back from that terrible fall, the craving for that next drink, the trauma that’s too close to the surface, all the petty hurts the build up in a lifetime start to fade as you, too, start to bloom.

Notes:
1. NO GUNS are allowed on this island. The Ferryman will keep them safe for you.

2. These residents of the island are normal humans. Killing them is possible and may affect the color of your Scrywatch.

3. Any type of flower could exist on the island, blooming somewhere, regardless of its real world requirements. Rare ones are difficult to find and magical ones need a check in with the mods.

4. There is nothing preadolescent of any animal species on the entire island, including insects.

5. The island’s ability leaves people as the healthiest, most energetic version of their current selves. Examples: A blind person in otherwise good mental and emotional health would notice minimal changes. A person with a disorder would find themselves having a string of good days. A 50 year old probably hasn’t felt this good since their thirties.

---

Ⅱ. THE TEMPLE
Orchids in shades of yellow and pink so bright they glow have been trained to grow along the walkways and bridges of the elevated village to guide Travelers to this island’s Temple. The building stands alone at the edge of the Village, extending out in the ocean of flowers that fill most of the isle.


The temple is made of simple stout wood that has been carved and painted in patterns ornate and lovely in a way that speaks of hundreds of hours of creation and maintenance. The same orchids that guided you here gild building and act as camouflage the sleeping porches ring the outside. They are kept private and safe from insects by fine netting, and you will find the bedding soft and fine.

This Temple’s Guardians are a pair of lazing cats with strange spots and scaly wings that regard you with affectionate disinterest as you explore the facilities. There are toilets and sinks, but no baths or showers. The pantries are stocked with edible flowers and fresh fish and the space and tools to cook. If you are brave enough, the Guardians will probably give you practical advice on how to use those supplies. There are new clothes and sandals better suited to the heat, and even practical machetes.

Notes:
1. The Main Temple is still open to those who are brand new to PM.

2. There are paints and carving tools if you want to add to the temple decorations. (Maybe mention it during the Oracle Event if you do.)

3. All fabric items are ridiculously bright and vaguely tie dyed.

4. The marker orchids have a distinctly strong smell of vanilla with a hint of lime.

---

Ⅲ. THE LOTUS BATHS
CW: fantasy setting drugs.
There’s only so long a person can stand to be covered in pollen, and when you ask the locals, they grin. Oh, you want a bath? There’s a path back to the ground and through the tall flowers to a natural spring. Make sure to head out early, they warn.

It’s always better to be in the village before nightfall, and you are clearly going to take a while.

As you walk the winding path to the baths, the everpresent flowers seem to thin out and even disappear as ground warms and rock rises from rich soil. You can smell the mineral richness of the bright blue pools that form waterfalls over a series of rising ledges. There is life, though, even here, in the form of delicate lily pads that float in rafts around vivid lotus flowers.

If you test the water, you’ll find it’s warm enough to melt the knots out of muscles and make it easy to understand why the few bathers seem to be so languid and relaxed. If you sink all the way in, well, not only will you manage to get clean, but you might find yourself mellowing out even more. So mellow you’ll hardly notice when the pleasant hallucinations start.

You’ll find yourself drawn into visions of your most private joys and of the pleasures you keep to yourself. Maybe it’s a matter of shame or maybe it’s because they’re too precious. There’s one small problem, though. If someone else gets in the same pool, not only will they start to share the same vision, but you’ll start to see theirs too.

Will the fantasies become a nightmare or will you manage to navigate them together? Will you ever be able to look at each other the same way again?

Notes:
1. The hallucinations will end when you leave the water, but only once you and your bathing partner are both out.

2. The flowers are magical and will affect everyone, even robots or super powered people.

---

Ⅳ. NIGHTBLOOMING
CW: abduction, violence.
You are warned to stay in the elevated village at night. The flower fields are safe enough during the day, but things happen at night. It’s hard to imagine during the day when stingless bees that glitter in jewel colors bumble along and hummingbirds the size of chihuahuas feed from the abundant flowers while squeaking their strong opinions at each other.

But as the moon rises, and most of the flowers close, there’s rustling sounds that make it clear that there are big things moving through that growth. Things that make the hair rise up on the back of a person’s neck. It would take a big prize to make it worth finding out what makes those sounds. A big prize or a reason to face your fears.

There’s a scream in the night. You can ignore it, of course. Not everyone is meant to run towards the scream. It might not even change the color of your ScryWatch.

But if you go to the source of the sound you’ll find a mother weeping openly while other locals gather around to comfort her. It seems her teenager decided that the best way to woo their lover was with glowing flowers that only open under a full moon. The teen has been gone for hours, and the grim expressions on the people around you say his chances aren’t good.

You have a choice to make. Will you go into the dark to face the unknown dangers? Will you offer some other form of comfort? Or will you go back to hide in the safety of the Temple?

Notes:
1. The danger in the flowers consists of six foot tall nocturnal orchid mantises who have the teen pinned in a tree. They are currently singing a human language lullaby to the kid to get them to go to sleep and fall out of the tree.

2. The mantises have a hive mind and will retreat if one of their number is killed, but can also be talked to and negotiated with. They will be willing to trade a regular supply of fish for no longer hunting people.

---

Ⅴ. SPECIAL EVENT: THE FLOWER ORACLE
In the center of the village, there is a giant flower bud that is bigger than a man is tall. The villagers tell you that you are lucky. You will be here when the Flower Oracle blooms. You will have a chance to speak directly to the Ancient One through the Oracle, and She even answers. All it takes is a little sacrifice.

Notes:
1. During the week of July 12-18, there will be a special event post where characters can choose to interact with the Flower Oracle for a chance to be rewarded, get an answer, get silence, or get punished by the Ancient.

2. Any starter posted during this window will be honored, specifics to come.

3. This event is optional!

Bonus: music to watch the flowers bloom to.

Network · Logs · OOC · Memes · Plurk

Comments

III: The Awkward-ing

[kyley_b]

Kyle's determined to have a good time in the baths, goddammit. He likes to be clean, and running around in the bushes on a warm island is going to make you very sweaty. Lugging around plant samples for a mad scientist is going to make your muscles sore. The obvious solution is the warm, relaxing waters of the lotus baths and nevermind that he almost died here.

Kyle almost dies a lot. It's whatever.

He sees Quentin and almost turns and marches away because ugh that guy but he's already got a towel and he's all gross and smelly and he decides he can just sink in and be unnoticed. Totally doable.

But as he sinks lower in the water, he starts to see Quentin's private little thoughts play out right there and he has to roll his eyes. "Of course," he mutters. "Of COURSE that's your fantasy: quintuplets thirsting after you and douchebag shopping trips." He sinks further, curls getting wet at the ends, and tries to just focus on the water instead. His eyes slip shut and then he hears a solid THUK sound and they fly back open.

Sitting across from him is a heavyset brunette holding his hand to his face. Blood pours between his fingers. "GodDAMMIT Kahl!"

Kyle's eyes cut over to Quentin quickly, hoping that somehow his own hallucinations are going to go unnoticed.

[quire]

They have not gone unnoticed. In fact they've interrupted his otherwise incredibly pleasant and self-involved memories. "The fuck!" he barks snapping back to total consciousness when that sound and face-punched sensation and the sight of blood are all enough rouse him from his quiet place.

"Was that you" Quentin appears genuinely confused and soon just irritated. "Oh. YEAH. MY thoughts are sooo terrible but you fantasize about punching fat kids and somehow you're still all high and mighty."

[kyley_b]

"No!" Kyle, there's absolutely nobody else in the bath. "I didn't. I. Shut up, I'M not the one with the self-aggrandizing shit going on here!"

The quintuplets look to Quentin.

"Quire, you can't let him talk to you that way."

"No, Quentin, not someone as handsome--"

"And brilliant."

"--as you."

Across from Kyle, one Eric T. Cartman flicks blood from his face casually into the water. "I'm not fat," this hallucination informs Quentin. "I'm big boned."

"You're not real," Kyle manages to hiss through gritted teeth. To Quentin he says, "I'm NOT fantasizing about punching fat kids, I'm--"

"It's his kink," Cartman says earnestly. "Kahl's a pervert."

"I AM NOT!" The shock and outrage are real.

The hallucinations, meanwhile, have apparently decided they ought to sit together. It's the worst Mean Girls table ever imagined. "What's with the pink haired nerd?" Cartman asks the quintuplets.

"I suppose he is pretty nerdy."

"And skinny."

"And awful."

[quire]

"It's not SELF aggrandizing if it's stuff OTHER people said about me, is it?" he sulks. He might have a point there. He's not actually sure if it becomes self-aggrandizing because he's the one reliving these moments, but he'll defend it to the death.

Though apparently he won't have to because this chubby kid might be the death of Kyle yet.

"Hey! Shut up! You're not even sticking to the memory-script anymore! You can stay on cue or get the hell out Mindee. Need I remind you you're just about the only Cuckoo I haven't bagged at this point?"

Reminding himself everyone here but Kyle is a mere figment of someone's imagination he turns his attention back to Kyle. "Despite his obvious struggle with nutritional guidelines, Heavyweights here has a point. What sort of perversion are you hiding if being berated by him is something you LIKE remembering?"

[kyley_b]

"It's not real, it's just fantasy," Kyle insists while fantasy!Mindee sniffs derisively.

"And I don't LIKE that, it's-- this isn't right, this isn't memory anymore, it's all fucked up! And I'm NOT a pervert!"

The Cuckoos and Cartman all snicker and whisper amongst themselves.

"What's with the blondes, huh?" Kyle asks, trying to deflect.

[quire]

"That's exactly what's weird about it, dude! This place is all psionic energy cherry picking your fucking happy thoughts and YOURS are like— being antagonized by the Pillsbury Dough Boy!" If he was ever upset to have his peace and quiet interrupted by this, he seems to have forgotten that irritation and in it's place grows some burgeoning amusement at everything that's weird about Kyle's head.

"I've dated half of them," he says adjusting his glasses. "They're all very into me."

[kyley_b]

"No, it was punching him in his fat-fuck face because he deserved it!" Kyle snaps. It's not actually remotely better, but he can't stand the thought that Quire might make assumptions about him.

At Quentin's statement, the Mean Girl's table laughs cruelly. "They're both scrawny little perverts," one of Quentin's blondes says.

"He got off on that punch," Cartman - now wearing a blonde wig - drawls with wicked amusement.

Kyle's head whips around as he shrieks, "I DID NOT!"

[quire]

"Yeah, that's normal," he says rolling his eyes.

"Because you're the arbiter of normal?" A new player has entered the game. A vision of a much older Quentin sits perched on the edge of the bath with a sword driven clear through his abdomen. "Pretty sure you've got a handful of weirdly satisfying violent thoughts yourself."

It's a kind of pleasant thought, he supposes. By the look on his face Quentin clearly wouldn't have lumped it in with the comforts of listening to his exes gas him up, but that train may have well left the station by now.

"Takes one to know one, Esme. I don't care of it's normal! I'm just saying it's hypocritical! Fuck— you're all giving me a headache."

[kyley_b]

That train has left and basically mutated into the one from Snowpiercer.

Kyle grabs his curls and pulls. "I just wanted a nice bath," he moans. "That's all."

"Instead you ruined Pinky's," his old frenemy points out. "You're such a hypocritical dick, Kahl."

That much is undeniably true. Kyle looks at Quentin miserably. "I'm sorry," he says, and he means it.

He looks at the older Quentin. "You did that to yourself?"

[quire]

"I could fix this real quick for you..." he says glaring at Kyle. A big pink psionically created boxing glove materializes when he balls up his left fist "Ugh. Pinky? He's not even clever!!"

When Kyle's apology seems more sincere than defensive though, Quentin's own desire to keep jabbing him with the sharp end of his own sense of justice completely dissolves.

"He deserved it," he mutters, determined to dismiss any incarnation of his future self— real or imagined. "Look, whatever, I can fix this ok? I can knock all this nonsense out of your head and make sure these hallucinations stay in the realm of like... your mom's cookies and visions of you curing cancer or whatever makes you feel good." The fact that he's asking permission to do so instead of just doing it is a peace offer of some sort.

cw: anti-Semitic language

[kyley_b]

"No, he's never been clever," Kyle sighs, resigned now.

"'EY, fuck you, Jew!"

Kyle waves a hand as if to say 'case in point.' He looks at Quentin warily, thick brows raised. "You can do that? Stupid question, of course you can." He wonders if it will work. The last time this happened, the hallucinations had stopped once he and Deadpool were out of the bath, but he wasn't sure if that was why or if it was because Kyle had nearly died.

Having Quire just bitchslap his hallucinations away is tempting. After all, what could go wrong?

"Okay," he says. He glances at Quentin's older self, still wondering why that was maybe a pleasant memory but not being able to judge.

[quire]

"WOW," he declares sarcastically at this kid's blatant anti-semitism. "Are you even Jewish or is he just a fucking Nazi?"

The answer hardly seems to matter though when Kyle's willing to try. Sure they could get out of the baths but then Quentin wouldn't get to try this. After hearing a little chatter about some people's powers being on the fritz he's been eagerly finding purpose for every talent he's ever possessed.

"It won't hurt," he promises. Perhaps when he conjured up that boxing glove he was ready to make it sting just a little, but tempers have cooled now. And he pops Kyle gently in the cheek with his big pink glove and.

Boom.

There's a moment where his consciousness blinks, like the power flickering in his brain. Then, when Kyle's blinking himself back to reality, or something like it, he's wearing shower cap made out of that same intangible pink energy Quentin manipulates. Along with it the pleasant hallucinations are strictly limited to Kyle's calmer happy thoughts — not so much the vengeful, or spiteful ones.

"Still with me?"

[kyley_b]

"I'm Jewish," Kyle admits, sounding somehow both proud but also exhausted by the fact. His time on all of the islands so far as been a lot and he is craving something pleasant so badly that it aches.

His head rocks to one side gently, but his eyes roll back in his head as if Quentin had delivered a K.O. punch. Kyle makes a fuzzy noise back in his throat and blinks rapidly as his consciousness returns.

"Yeah," he says, sounding groggy.

He looks around, and for the second time since arriving on the Isle that Blooms he feels like the world around the pool has grown colder, crisper, devoid of floral scents. It smells instead like snow and evergreens. He sees an old truck parked by the edge of the bath, sees himself sitting in the truck bed with someone, and feels an icepick stab of panic. There is a twinge as the cap Quentin has made deflects the hallucination completely. The truck vanishes.

If Quentin's happy thoughts are quite pedestrian, Kyle's are downright boring: sitting alone in the back of a university library with a take-away latte and a pile of books. He's alone but the emotional flavour of the scene is one of cautious pride and a sort of loneliness that is somehow exciting rather than sad.

In the bath, Kyle's body relaxes. His hallucination allows more than enough room for Quentin and his assorted fantasy hangers-on.

[quire]

Quentin seems to be a little suspect of the calmness of all of it. Like he's waiting for something insane to happen so he can jump on deflecting it.

When he's convinced that it's finally going to be a boring moment alone in the library he sighs and looks at Kyle.

"Jesus. There's some STUFF in there, pal."

"How does someone with a sex addiction not come up with something more salacious?" One of the blondes complains.

"I don't know but the smell of library low-pile carpeting is killing the mood," another pipes up and they all cross their arms tightly.

"Ugh," Quentin rolls his eyes. Nothing it seems can satisfy them all. At once. "None of you bitching has EVER given me a boner so just PLEASE. Everybody shut up a while." Is it weirdly protective of Kyle's peace and quiet? Maybe. But he can deflect from that easily enough by being nosy. "Where is this place any way?"

[kyley_b]

Kyle goes bright red and feels for one horrible second like he's going to start crying. He won't - Kyle Broflovski doesn't cry, goddammit - but that casually cruel comment cuts deep, and is made worse by the fact that somebody knows.

"I don't have a sex addiction," he mumbles. "That wasn't true, I was a kid, and I'm not like that." Faintly, like ghosts in another room, there's the sound of someone getting fucked and breathlessly insulted. Kyle actually pulls at the intangible cap he's wearing as if to yank down over his ears.

"...it's the library at Boston University, where I did my undergrad. I used to study there a lot. First year it seemed really huge, and impressive, and peaceful. I used to get ripped on for liking school, and nobody there was about to do that. It felt adult." His tone is defensive but, again, tired.

"I know it's stupid."

[quire]

Connected like they are just now there's nothing Kyle can hear that Quentin can't. His attention snaps from left to right trying to place the direction of those sounds and see if there's a vision attached to them as well— but then Kyle tries to bury those thoughts with such might that Quentin shuts that door too. Just like he did with the angry fat boy. Only seems fair.

"Don't listen to them," Quentin rolls his eyes and with an audible slap sound there's a swatch of pink tape plastering all their mouths shut. "There's something to be said for getting to do whatever the hell you want without a lot of commentary from the fucking peanut gallery."

"What did you study?" he asks, because he's curious and because the longer he can keep Kyle focused on the things that don't make him uncomfortable to share the more likely they can bring this whole hallucinogenic tide pool back under some comfortable control sans-telekinetic shower cap.

[kyley_b]

"I'm not," he says. It's a sad little lie, made all the more pointless by the fact that Quentin is a living lie detector. But he has to say it, has to claim not to care what these half-sentient constructs say, because he already feels small and stupid.

Quentin's understanding is unexpected and appreciated. Kyle remembers the few drinks they'd shared on Carcosa and that the guy hadn't seemed all bad, really. An asshole, sure, but not a monster. And he had an annoyingly cute smile.

"Yeah, exactly," Kyle says, relaxing a little again. "Like, it's dumb and boring but it was the first time I'd ever been away from home, and it was cool to me. I felt like I could be myself. Or someone new, maybe." He looks at Quentin and grins. "Poli-Sci major. You know, the FAKE science. But I'm going into law this fall, so it's a good base to start with." He laughs shortly. "Well. Supposed to be. I know you're some sort of of superhero or whatever, but did you never wanna go to school?"

[quire]

Trying to relax while connected to the mind of someone who is decidedly not relaxed is no easy feat. Making people comfortable isn't exactly his greatest skill set, but for a little peace and quiet he's more than willing to trying.

"Most people's happy places are kind of boring. Except like adrenaline junkies... but even then a lot of them are in it for the drop after the rush," he shrugs, remembering no one cares about what he knows about brain stuff.

With the quiet of the baths settling around them again Quentin sighs and sits back. "Not a fake science. That's just what nerds say about everything with ethically dubious tools for measurement."

He shrugs at the question. "Not really," maybe he did once, but as he sees it now it was for all the wrong reasons. "My IQ is through the roof and institutional education is kind of a joke. I was a huge nerd when I was a kid." He says that like he isn't now.

[kyley_b]

"Right. If you're into risky behaviour, doesn't your central nervous system essentially reward you for it?" Maybe nobody Quentin knows cares, but Kyle does. It's fascinating, and the way he leans forward just a little shows his interest.

"Only when you were a kid, huh?" Kyle asks. "Pity, I was gonna ask you to join my Endless Isles D&D group." He sinks enough to get the edges of his hair wet. "You're not wrong about education, though. As much as I want to defend the concept, I've seen way, way too much fuckery in the school system. And university is mostly just a fabulous way to get into debt. I worked my ass off for scholarships 'cause god knows I don't need to dig myself any deeper financially."

He splashes idly at the water. "...I've seen you as like, older and stabbed twice now. It must be like, really on your mind, huh?"

[quire]

"Pretty much. There are only so many neuro-chemicals that cause pleasure and a buncha different ways to milk them." It doesn't take much to convince Quentin Quire to talk about stuff. The nerdier the better.

He looks at Kyle over the top edge of his glasses. "I could be into D&D. Who's DMing?"

"Exaaaaactly!" he groans dramatically. "Such a scam. Like someone went— how can we get poor people to pay an entrance fee for their own social mobility? The only real education anyone needs is critical thinking skills. Everything else is just absorbing information. Besides they don't teach anything I'd want to learn in college."

If he ever does clam up about anything it might be that though. "Pftf. Not as much as this place would like you to think," he mutters.

[kyley_b]

"Right. You know how to stimulate all that?"

Kyle has always thought that people who peer over the rim of their glasses are trying to look intelligent and sexy. It's fake as hell. So why does it suit Quentin?

"I guess it would be me, unless my friend Elenore wanted to. She's a mad scientist, pretty sure, so I just assume she'd wanna play. Another genius, like you."

Kyle sits up a bit and nods. "God, I wish they'd teach critical thinking. You have no idea - NO idea - how much shit I've seen that could have been avoided by people just using their fucking brains."

He worries his lower lip a little bit. "Yeah. Yeah, this place likes to pick at you. It's bullshit."

[quire]

"Course. What kind of telepath would I be if I couldn't even fuck your brain chemistry?" Smug as ever.

Quentin's confidence, and with it so many of his habits, are a strange convolution of nature and nurture. A personality he wanted to embody. So he did. It's hard to tell where what comes naturally to him ends and where the puts on begin, but some of those little affections just suit him to a tee.

"That's a small party. But I'd be down. We might wanna get another. I know a guy who might be into it. He's a pretty big fucking nerd too."

"Tell me about it." It's hard to say whether he's referring to a lack of critical thought in then education system or the patterns of these islands and the way it prods at its inhabitants, but either one would apply. "What color did it give you anyway?" he asks, craning to see Kyle's watch under the water.

[kyley_b]

"Well, I dunno, we don't have telepaths where I'm from," Kyle replies a trifle defensively. He's half positive he hates this guy, which naturally means he's becoming obsessed with him. Not that he'd admit it.

"Well, I was thinking there's two other guys who'd maybe wanna play. One's another fucking genius, and I think I could force my buddy Carter to join us so I won't be the ONLY guy who isn't in fucking MENSA."

Kyle holds his wrist up, showing off the yellow colour. "Apparently it's mediocre."

[quire]

"Sounds boring." He'll eat those words someday.

"Don't be touchy. It doesn't take an IQ to roll dice. I'm up for this though. There's something almost meta about role playing some fantasy world full of monsters and whatever while we're all stuck in some fantasy world full of monsters or whatever."

"Sounds accurate," he smirks, but actually he's a little surprised to see this guy, this sensitive, lanky, red-head assigned the same colour as Wolverine. He narrows his eyes suspiciously. "What did you do to deserve yellow?"

[kyley_b]

"Yeah, sorry."

"I'm not being touchy!" Yes he is. "But yeah, right? It's kind of hilarious."

"Fuck off." He says it without rancor. Then he shrugs and puts his hand back under the water. "I dunno. Nothing. I'm just a friggin student. I've never done anything." This is a lie of staggering proportions.