polylogs | Something in the air...

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Something in the air...

✖ 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

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Wrench is plenty used to the way humans bleed, but he's never seen a person-sized insect split open before him. The carnage seems to enrage the others, but just as he's squaring up against the second, it's hit with a force that knocks it backward and up like the ripcord of a parachute jerking it suddenly opposite its intended direction. He doesn't wait to see where it lands, nor does he give the third of the creatures the time to determine a wiser course of action. Wrench drives at it with the blade, slashing one of its antennae.

The insect lets out a crackling scream as it reels backward, and he takes the opportunity to embed the machete into its exposed abdomen. Its thin legs seem to buckle under the weight of its body, and the mantis collapses to the ground next to the first. Wrench stares at the two strange and horrifying and beautiful bodies until the latter stops twitching and falls still.

Jean-Paul drops out of the sky, just an arm's length away from Wrench. He studies the big man speculatively, then nods.

"You're good," he says, eyebrows raised.

It's about the cleanest Wrench has ever been after eviscerating an enemy. He stares down at the bodies of the enormous insects, realizing to himself he's not sure what to do now. Usually he's so focused on the next step in the process. Haul off the bodies. Dispose of them somewhere they can't be found. But who gives a burial to a housefly? Should they be scavenging it for parts? Others have mentioned magic, but what can be done with the dead husk of an enormous insect?

Magic, he thinks again, just as the ScryWatch buzzes. He looks from the message back to the man who has joined him again, looking calm and satisfied. Are you asking, or telling? Wrench wonders. There's a smile in his eyes, but it doesn't part his lips.

What was all that? You can fly?

"Telling." Jean-Paul stands there with all his usual confidence (arrogance?) and smirks up at Wrench as he speaks.

"I can. Very, very quickly. Genetic quirk. I suspect one that does not exist where you're from." He looks over at the bug corpses, nose wrinkling slightly.

"They didn't try to speak to us. Makes you wonder if the singing was just them repeating something they had heard."

No, Wrench notes with an air of incredulity. It lasts as long as his gaze stays fixed on the other man. Soon enough his attention is drifting to their surroundings. The closed buds of the sleepy flowers and the iridescent shimmer of the corpses of the human-sized insects reflecting in the moonlight. It seems almost laughable that flying should be an impossibility here. His shoulders don't quite soften, but something in his expression unpinches. Just in movies.

Repeating a lullaby? Why? You think they were trying to put him to sleep before they ate him?

"Well, here I am, handsome. A movie superhero in the flesh."

Jean-Paul shrugs lightly. "You know, now that you say it? Yes. I do think I believe that. And that's creepy as hell, non?"

What, like Superman? He almost laughs as he draws the squiggle of an S across the front of his chest with his fist. It's about the most earnest expression of amusement that Wrench has found cause for so far, but it's only further proof that he's not taking the conversation particularly seriously. I guess you look a little bit like him.

Wrench cleans the curved blade against the thick ground cover before positioning it at his side. Depends on how you'd prefer to die, I guess. What kind of insect eats a person? A mosquito would make sense, maybe. Drain his blood. But why those things?

Jean-Paul smiles. It's a movie-star smile designed to dazzle paparazzi. "But better looking," he says.

He shakes his head slowly. "I mean, I believe mantises are carnivorous? And I suppose they're big enough to consider human beings prey." He looks Wrench in the eye, smirking slightly. "I plan to die fighting," he says. "...again. C'mon, I'll walk with you, wherever you're going."

I guess next you're going to tell me that modesty's for ugly people? He can see just how rehearsed that smile is. Easy or not, Wrench knows the sort of confidence that seems born from spite, or from audacity.

He's happy to walk alongside the other man back through the winding foliage and towards the center of the village, even if his destination now is just as uncertain as it's been every night since his arrival. I haven't figured that out yet. I haven't figured out what it is we're supposed to be doing.

"Well. It is," Jean-Paul declares loftily.

"Chrisse, me neither. I suppose I've only just arrived, but I've run into people I know and it sure sounds like there's SOME kind of point to all of this. I suppose we just... roll with it? Ugh. No. I hate the idea of that."

The way Wrench laughs makes it sound like he's out of air. It manages to give the impression that he only intends to humor his companion, not that he necessarily agrees. Usually, he'd find such an overt display of confidence offputting, but there is something about the other man that manages to be charming. Or maybe he's just as intriguing as the rest of this has all proven so far. Wrench has certainly never met someone who could fly before.

There are other people here that you know? That gets an interested frown. Seems like if we're supposed to be redeeming ourselves we ought to be doing something, but I haven't met anyone who's got an idea of what.

Jean-Paul looks over and grins - there and gone, but far more genuine than his movie star smile.

"A few of my coworkers and old friends," Jean-Paul says, nodding. "None of whom seem to have any more idea than you or I." He twirls one hand in the air. "Maybe it's... I don't know, we save a bunch of orphans or something. You drink?"

Coworkers? He turns the word over in his mind for a time, finding the idea both strange and a little foreign. Wrench has encountered no familiar faces thus far, and he lets himself wonder which is more normal. Do the majority of people here have someone else they know? Is that why everyone seems to be taking it so much more in stride?

Even as he knows he ought to be more upset by the impossibility of all this, he finds that he can't dig deep enough down to rise to that full emotion. It's as though something is preventing him. I guess we should hope those weren't orphaned mantises we just robbed of a meal, he smirks.

If you're offering, I could use one.

That pulls an actual laugh out of him. "Oh no," Jean-Paul says with mock horror. "Those poor mantises!" Although part of him does wonder, a little. Oh well, too late now.

"I am definitely offering. I make it a habit to sway handsome, dangerous men in my favour."

Wrench has always been a fan of straightforward communication. Which isn't to say that he's enjoyed very much of it over the course of his life. Certainly almost none at all, since the loss of his partner. It's not easy getting the tension in his jaw to slacken or the piercing stare to register much surprise, but the easy compliments go a long way. He might even feel the color bloom in his cheeks, though the darkness of the night does a good job of hiding that.

I don't get the feeling you need much protection. But I'd believe maybe you like watching people squirm.

Jean-Paul turns to Wrench so he can see him, and bats his eyelashes. "Moi? Never." He grins again, there and gone, and then gestures grandly ahead of them.

"I don't like many people. That's because most people are boring, stupid, or both. So when I find anyone who is actually interesting, I don't mind expending a little effort to see if they're worth my time." He lifts an eyebrow as he looks over again. "You're welcome."

I guess I'm supposed to be flattered? Wrench can only guess at what the ScryWatch is doing for his tone. It doesn't much matter how the technology conveys the statement, though, when he finds himself biting back a smile in an effort to conceal the gentle gap between his two front teeth. Despite it all, the tall man goes ahead like he hasn't just been caught in the very act of his own amusement. How do you know you're worth my time yet? I might just be playing nice for the free drink.

It all feels nearly impossibly easy. Maybe that's thanks to the strange and unbelievable translation, but Wrench has that sense again of something just beyond his grasp. Something in the air inviting him to lay down a load and relax in the knowledge he doesn't have to run.

So you speak French and you can fly. Now tell me something interesting.

Jean-Paul smirks, an expression that sits naturally on his face.

"Interesting, hn? I was an Olympian," he says. "Gold medalist for downhill skiing." He runs a hand quite deliberately through his hair, showing off how good it looks. "I was also the first openly gay superhero. Those two facts combined with the fact that I'm smarter than my looks would have you believe have made me disgustingly wealthy."

He glances at Wrench, still smirking. "Non? That not enough?"

He's not expecting much out of such a goading demand, so Wrench doesn't do much to hide the expression of surprise that crosses his face as he reads the words appearing on his ScryWatch. For a moment his attention is so diverted that he sidesteps around a blooming bush and into Jean-Paul's path before giving him space again.

Impressed as he clearly is, when he looks up to face the other man again, he shrugs his shoulders as though it's all nothing. I didn't know downhill skiing was an Olympic sport. What do you do with all that money?

Wrench is a big man, but Jean-Paul steps nimbly around any intrusion into his personal space. Not without an appraising glance, though.

"It is, and a difficult one," Jean-Paul replies. Then he laughs. "Nowadays? Charity and spoiling my husband."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Something in the air...

cw: bug guts and death (sorry I missed it in my last tag!)

tbh not even sure if it's necessary

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