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

Wrench | Fargo TV | OTA

[wwrench]

arrival | temple

It's a strange sort of honor to bear witness to the last moments of a person's life. With all the pretense stripped away and the sinking realization of that finality taking hold, a man tends to become more himself than he's ever been since birth. And while -- for the most part -- Wrench has never been one to leave his victims to languish in their final moments, he's seen plenty of different reactions in his time. He used to think maybe they held the clue to what lies on the other side, but over time he's convinced himself they're nothing more than the chemical reaction of the brain in its own death throes.

Which is why none of this makes any sense. A boat and a ferryman waxing on about quests and redemption, a metal band around his wrist glowing an eerie orange, and the overwhelming taste of pollen on his lips. Wrench is still reeling when he's dumped to port to be greeted with braided, flowering blooms and open arms. His stature makes it difficult to blend in among the crowd, but the cloud of his silence and the hard stare he pays anyone who tries to place flowers in his arms lets him wind through the better part of the chaos largely unfettered.

He can be found doing his best to orient himself to this strangeness, or later at the temple, picking through the dyed fabrics and considering both a bowie and a kukri.

the lotus baths

In the midst of so much that's unfamiliar, bathing in a natural pool of water is a tale as old as time. Wrench is glad to find the spring so inviting in its warmth. It is, fortunately, nothing like sinking into a clear Minnesota lake on an early spring morning. In fact, once he's got one toe in the water he's happy to throw caution to the wind and let the runoff from the formation above pour over his head and down his back. After a little while, he almost can't help but risk closing his eyes.

When he opens them again, Wrench would swear he's been transported. In the midst of this strange place, he's found something as precious and as familiar to him as anything he's ever known. He can feel the threadbare bedsheet pulled over his head and see the amber glow of light streaming from the other side. He's just a boy here, no more than twelve, and the brunette boy hiding next to him puts an elbow into his ribs and points at a book laid between them.

How do you sign this? The boy's finger casts over the vocabulary in their science text.

A much younger Wrench rolls his eyes. Come on, you know all this. I think you've been signing longer than me.

Yeah? Well maybe I just like the things you do with your fingers. What about that?

At the falls, Wrench sinks further into the water.

nightblooming

There's no chance in hell he's closing his eyes here tonight anyway. Wrench isn't looking to provide any kind of help, but when he finds himself caught up in the crowd drifting around the sobbing woman he finds himself enlisted. A cursory point at the blade he's tucked in his waistband is all it takes, and truth be told he doesn't mind the excuse to explore a little bit more of his new home.

None of this could be any different than the frozen tundra of the upper Midwest, but tracking is tracking no matter how you slice it. He may be with the group, but it's increasingly clear he's only here to serve his own purposes.

temple

[unkindled_madness]

If you want someone who really doesn't blend in, try the 6'7" man with silver hair down to his knees. Despite wearing the same robes as the newcomers, he seems considerably less disoriented by the situation, moving with a certain decisiveness to explore the village. He's been through this before, he just didn't get to keep his updated wardrobe.

Which may be contributing to his visible frustration at finding nothing but brightly-colored clothing available at the temple. He's picking through a pile in hopes of finding at least a reasonable shade of green or blue, but if his only other option is bright yellow shorts (they would match his ScryWatch), he'll stick with the robes.

[wwrench]

Wrench doesn't have much practice when it comes to looking up to people.

Sure, he's crossed paths with a couple of people in his life whose height just ekes out over his own, but a man who stands several inches above him is a rare sight indeed. And that's before even taking into account the length and shade of his hair. It's far from the most unusual thing he's encountered in the last two minutes, but it does make him double-take as they rifle through the same mountain of fabric in search of something a little less ostentatious than the splashes of color.

Though maybe here of all places, this is what blending in looks like. He chucks away a few loose fabrics splotched in pastel pink and traffic cone yellow and grumbles disparagingly.

Fuck this and fuck this place, Wrench signs. He means it to be to himself, but he's not yet used to the fact his ScryWatch seems to interpret everything.

[unkindled_madness]

The hand motions catch Sephiroth's interest, and he pauses. He doesn't know sign language, but it's been on his mind recently. A potential method of communication to thwart the constant observation of the ScryWatches, if only he'd been able to find any instruction in it. But, the translation swiftly appearing above his own tells him now that that wouldn't work either.

It feels almost ironic, how casually and unintentionally it's disproven.

"...indeed. It's hardly an improvement." He is going to watch to see if that's translated in turn, because if nothing else, it's new information.

[wwrench]

If there was any chance that only the Ferryman's words might pierce through the universal translator, it's quickly disproven when Wrench feels the telltale rumble from his ScryWatch and the words begin to appear in perfect uniformity. He looks between the device and the man and back again, less pleased than he might be expected to feel that all this is occurring.

As unused as he is to being understood, he's even less sure what to make of understanding. What's worse is how plain it is to both of them. He can't pretend otherwise now, so ignoring the man can only be rude.

Improvement over this? He clasps as the robes he awoke dressed in. The garments seem to mark him as a newcomer, and it's hard to tell which he might find more objectionable. Do you know what it means? Some aren't wearing anything like this.

[unkindled_madness]

Sephiroth probably should have anticipated some questions from the newer Travellers, but he wasn't expecting to strike up a conversation now. Well, it isn't difficult to explain.

"The majority of us came here from a different island. This is our second destination. But evidently... refusing to get back on the ferry will cost you anything you acquire."

Yesterday, he had pants. Nice, plain, black pants. They weren't supposed to be a luxury item.

[wwrench]

You tried to stay behind? Wrench turns from the pile of garments, suddenly disinterested in the meager provisions this place might be willing to afford them. The conversation of how and of why is far more interesting to him. Talk of destinations and islands and accumulated possessions at least give him a much better idea of what he's dealing with here.

How long were you there? Was the last island anything like this one?

[unkindled_madness]

Sephiroth shakes his head slightly; he didn't really anticipate success. "I wanted to know by what means we might be coerced.

"We spent two months there. It was a city... similar to 1920s Earth, if you're familiar with Earth."

Hearing the way he says it might have made it more apparent that he himself is not, but his appearance might help. A few people have mistaken him for some sort of fae creature, though he's not aware of it.

[wwrench]

Yeah, I know Earth. Wrench isn't sure to what extent the mechanism for translation might work to express emotion, but his response is full of wary sarcasm. Maybe for the first time, he steps back to look at the man and consider what he's overlooked before. His appearance might be out of the ordinary, but it's certainly not strange enough to appear outright impossible.

You're saying this isn't Earth?

Nightblooming

[speed_of_snark]

One moment Wrench is walking apart from the hurriedly assembled group of would-be rescuers, and the next there's a man beside him. Average height, with a swimmer's build, and the brightest, coldest blue eyes imaginable.

"Well, hello, tall, brooding, and handsome. You look like you might actually know what you're doing. Do you?"

[wwrench]

To say he's settling in nicely would be a gross over-estimation, but if there's one thing Wrench is used to, it's acclimating quickly to his surroundings. He's ditched the robes that seem to designate him as a newcomer -- or possibly an outsider -- to this strange world. The loose, thin fabrics splotched with oranges and teal are the closest he could find to his preferred ensemble of leather and denim. For as well as he's ever able to blend in while standing head and shoulders above what's average, he thinks at least he looks like he belongs.

Not least of what's strange is the watch around his wrist and its ominous, amber-orange glow. The color is certainly bothersome, but he glances at it now and scowls at the tight, precise little display of words that cross its screen.

I'm dressed like a piñata and covered in pollen, he signs, still half-convinced he won't be understood. That much hasn't proven true so far, but it remains further proof of how impossible this all is. What makes you think I have a clue what I'm doing?

[speed_of_snark]

Jean-Paul watches, then reads, then laughs.

"The way you were looking at the ground, actually. Reminded me of an old friend of mine. He's one of those people who thinks deer hunting and staying in a cabin with no electricity is appealing."

He gestures at the wilderness around them. "Some kid goes missing in a place where the locals are scared of the dark. It's like a horror movie, non?"

[wwrench]

Prefer that to this, Wrench muses idly. The strangest of what's happening here shouldn't be the idle conversation. Still, it's been a lot of years since he's just spoken to someone. Neither of them is giving or receiving demands from the other -- not yet, at least. It would be almost pleasant, if not for how suspicious it all seems. The fish are okay, but everything else tastes like flowers.

He follows the man's hand, but finds himself glancing back at the watch to catch the words as they appear. It makes Wrench look impatient, a fact that isn't helped by the faint scowl etched over his face. I don't watch horror movies. You think they're right to be scared?

[speed_of_snark]

Jean-Paul groans. "Of course you do," he says. "God save me from men who think 'luxury' is a dirty word." Still, he's sticking beside Wrench anyway. "Have you had the booze, though? Floral is nice with booze."

He's been here, what, a few days? And he's already decided drinking is a great way to handle this new turn of events.

Jean-Paul smirks. "I don't watch them, I suppose I live them. But I feel either it's some sort of ridiculous Scooby-Doo situation with someone dressed up as a monster to abduct children, or there really is some sort of dangerous animal about, ouais."

[wwrench]

Is this what 'luxury' is to you? Wrench smooths his hands down the front of the orange and teal tunic shirt he selected from the temple. He gives the man a sideways glance, like he can't quite believe anyone who would say as much could also be satisfied with their provisions. You drank what they gave you?

He seems less sure that's a good idea. Not until he finds out exactly what's brought them all here, and why. All that talk of redemption and second chances doesn't sit well for Wrench. He's half-convinced he might be in his own death throes right now, but if there's any rhyme or reason to what his mind's making up, he can't figure it out.

You live horror movies? Sounds a little dramatic to me. He's not about to admit he supposes he could say the same himself. What's a man of luxury know about horror?

[speed_of_snark]

"Non, I prefer penthouse suites with Egyptian cotton sheets and jacuzzies," he replies. Then he shrugs, somehow managing to look very French when he does. "I did, because I was thirsty. What can I say, I'm a risk taker."

He looks up at Wrench and smirks. "It does sound dramatic, doesn't it? Let's just say if we find a monster out here, it won't be the first one I've beaten up in my life. Where are you from, handsome? Earth, I believe."

[wwrench]

Could've guessed that by the fact you're out here, Wrench decides. Luxury and gruntwork hardly align in his experience, though. The kind of people who enjoy penthouse suites with Egyptian cotton do so on the efforts of people who are a little more like him.

Earth, yeah. Wrench gives the other man a look that says he expects he's being put on with a question like that. No one place. I travel a lot. The Upper Midwest, mostly.

arrival | temple

[howlett]

Hanging out at the temple doesn't just give him time to work on these intricate carvings. It's also the best place to spot new faces. Not those already living on this island but the ones that come to the temple, worried, or wary or wrathful about having just stumbled into this place without any answers.

He dusts the shavings off a swath of Wagara pattern and then off his lap as well. Stopping to watch a big blond fellow size himself up for robes.

"Kukri holds an edge better if you ask me," he says. Who's he to comment on anyone's fashion choices anyhow?

[wwrench]

If the wide-eyed travelers he's arrived with are any indication, none of these blades will be seeing much willful action outside a rogue steak knife. And if he takes fair stock at his surroundings, Wrench might come to admit that may do the majority of them well enough. But from the moment he's awoken to find every last one of his possessions stripped from him, he's been in search of something to arm himself with.

Something about this place makes it difficult to stand in his usual hostile guard. His mind wants to feel soothed, despite every rational thought in his head telling him there's something terribly wrong. Wrench doesn't understand his own compulsion to reach back for the people that reach out to him, except that he's never had a means of communication this easy. When his ScryWatch vibrates, he turns a half-circle until he spots the man from whom the words must've come.

Wrench's expression remains pinched as he tucks both of the blades around the waistband of his flowing, tie-dyed pants. The weight of the weapons compared to the fabric certainly make them tough to conceal.

Kukri's a heavier carry, too, he signs back to the man. Wrench frowns thoughtfully at the carvings on the wall behind him. You decorated this place?

[howlett]

There's a guardedness about the man, Logan thinks. It makes him smile. He'd probably come off the same way if not for the unavoidable tranquility of this place.

The voice in that Scrywatch is not the voice he was anticipating either but nevertheless, after a pensive moment, he seems to put together what's going on with this one.

"No," he shakes his head as he says it. "Just this bit..." Of course, this bit refers to a significantly long section of the wood frame of the structure. "The florals were here when I got here. You been here long?"

[wwrench]

The man before him reminds Wrench of other men he's known in his life. Some by name and others by brutal reputation alone. Maybe for that reason, it shouldn't relax him as much as it does to find himself addressed by this one. Still in a place where nothing seems particularly as it should be, the idea of familiarity strikes a chord. He finds himself shaking his head without stopping to question whether that information might be better kept to his chest.

Just arrived. The back of his hand makes a soft slap when it connects with his palm. He holds both out for a moment, like he's subconsciously waiting to be given something. An explanation, an answer, a task that won't have him feeling so pitched to the wind.

What do they mean? Wrench ventures, abandoning his pursuit of supplies to step a little closer to the carved-up wall.

[howlett]

Even for having just laid eyes on him mere moments, Logan could say the same. It takes a certain kind of person to wake up somewhere and start weighing the tactical potential of different kinds of blades. Logan has spent several life times in the company of this kind of person.

It's impossible not to watch his hands when he speaks, even if the Scrywatch does the translating for him. He could maybe string a clumsy sentence together out of ASL if he really wracked his brain, he thinks, but if he pays enough attention he might learn something.

"Different things," he shrugs and drags his fingers over the nearest collection of repeating shapes. "Sayagata. This one means eternity. Time. Wisdom. The fletching pattern is yagasuri. Supposed to inspire good fortune." he shrugs like he's not exactly committed to that belief. "I think the trick is they're all about the same thing really."

[wwrench]

Wrench has no choice but to turn his focus to the ScryWatch as the words begin to appear on its screen. In the short time he's been ashore, he's already come to regard the little accessory as a mixed blessing. Never in his life has he experienced something so convenient. Yet the same fact means it's more difficult for him to pretend he doesn't understand. There's a power in being inaccessible that's been ripped from him by the device. Maybe in time he can reclaim it, but now it's novelty enough that every little buzz has him turning back to his wrist to tune into what's being said.

He takes another step forward and touches the pattern that reminds him of a tidy row of feathers stuck from a quiver. It's less intricate, but no less impressive. He could use a little good fortune he thinks to himself as he runs a finger over the notches in the wood.

Do you work here? It's a clumsy way of asking the man's affiliation with the temple, and an even clumsier means of seeking out some kind of purpose for their being. Even after all these years, maybe Wrench is still searching for someone to give him direction.

[howlett]

If there's a frustration with this intercepted form of communicating for the big fellow, Logan hasn't recognized it. He chuckles at the question and shakes his head again. With no tools about him to set down he merely dusts his hands and a collection of little wood chips from his knees.

"I don't think anybody's doin' much work on this island. Not like the last one. These folks might not know the meaning of the word." The more relaxed he is the more his mind is allowed to wander uninhibited. Unfortunately for everyone else that means it's that less likely to get a straight answer out of him.

[wwrench]

At the mention of other islands, Wrench nods his head in segments. The jerky motion seems to confirm that it's not the first he's hearing of this nomadic journey, but he's still no closer to understanding the purpose of it all. The words of the ferryman may have been clear, but his present reality holds no room for traveling from world to world on a redemption quest. He lets his hand drop to his side when the ScryWatch reaches the end of its translation and looks around again.

So then what are we supposed to do? Decorate? He splays his hands to gesture around the temple walls, but the expression manages to look half-futile in its uncertainty. We're rats in a cage being observed? Wrench jiggles his ScryWatch demonstratively. The face of it has shown no sign of relenting its persistent orange glow.