Eternal Summer

[polymods]

✖ The Isle That Blooms

Ⅰ. ALWAYS BLOOMING, NEVER HARVEST
July flowers bring, well, August flowers.

Another month has come and gone, and you may have noticed things haven’t changed much. Everything is still beautiful. There are still no signs of babies or prepubescent children or young animals.

In fact, if you’re paying close enough attention, you may have noticed there are no fruits or grains or vegetables that have come from the constant riot of color and pollen. Only flowers, always flowers.

You still have access to the city’s temple and the baths. The High Temple’s doors are open to everyone.

Some of you may still be dealing with the unpleasant side effects of the Ancient’s now dead and gone Flower Oracle, but it should wind down before the end of the month. Or maybe you already faced your demons.

Hiding out in the Temples for the rest of the month is always an option, but be careful not to get too stagnant. It would be a shame if your ScryWatch stays stuck on the same color forever because you, too, decided to stop growing.

---

Ⅱ. FLOWER MARKET FESTIVAL
CW: Optional Alcohol/Drug Consumption.
You didn’t think the celebrations would be over just because the Flower Oracle came and went, did you? There’s always a new event, a new thing to do, a new way to make some benefit off the Travelers who pass in and out of the Isle looking to take something away from this place.

This month it’s the Flower Market!

During the days, stalls bloom beneath the elevated buildings and in the empty center where the Flower Oracle once stood. There are flowers, of course, in buckets, arrangements, wreaths, crowns, growing in tiny little pots, made into cakes, salsas, and snacks! Artists will find pigments, paints, inks, dyes, and papers. There are perfumes, lotions, oils, soaps, and more. Spices and herbs are abundant; you’ve certainly never seen saffron this cheap. If you haven’t gotten enough tie-dye from the temple, you’ll find beautiful batik clothing, purses, and even jewelry. Everything is bright, everything is for sale.

At night, the stalls are all folded away and instruments come out. Little stalls sell flowery alcoholic drinks and did you know or remember that cannabis is a flowering plant? The locals certainly remembered to make the edibles. Careful, though, drink or imbibe and you’ll find yourself talking about the things you need that you cannot buy. The things you are aching for.

And you won’t stop until someone acknowledges it.

Notes:
1. If you want it and it’s made of flowers, it’s here. No drugs or alcohol during daylight hours.

2. The Temple gives a small amount of spending money daily. Save up and get fancy, or buy a little bit of everything.

3. There is a tiny group of unknown Travelers that show up for the market. They don’t seem to have access to the same network as PCs, but their watches flash green, blue, or purple. They seem to be avoiding PC Travelers and disappear into parts of the Temples that don’t seem to be open to our group yet whenever they get too close.

---

Ⅲ. POISON GARDEN
CW: Poisons, narcotics, ect.
As you wander the now familiar village, you will notice a new pathway has opened at the edge of the village. It leads to an area with a high stone fence and a heavy gate. A skull and crossbones are painted on the gate in bright white paint, but there’s nothing actually stopping you from opening the gate and walking in.

The garden is beautiful, but surprisingly formal after the chaotic abundance of the rest of the Isle. The paths are wide and there’s space between the plants. Each one is meticulously labeled with a stake in the ground.

Do you read the labels? How long does it take you to realize everything in the garden is toxic or poisonous? There are so many options from hemlock and oleander to aconitum and angel’s trumpet and beyond.

Welcome to a study on how not everything that's natural is good for you as you continue to wander the fractal paths. Of course, not everything that's poisonous has no purpose. By the opium poppies there’s a sign that tells you that you can choose to wander the deadly garden until it kills you or you can own up to a toxic habit or behavior that you need to deal with.

Notes:
1. In theory, a character could wander forever without touching or consuming any of the poisons. For plot/fun reasons, feel free to make it a little more difficult. And remember, some of your characters can be poisoned to death.

2. Acknowledging bad habits or a need for change in an honest way is very likely to result in a shift in a ScryWatch color. Remember, the Ancient is looking for growth and improvement, not moral perfection.

3. Characters can collect poisonous or medicinal plants but will be at risk while doing so.

---

Ⅳ. FLOWERY FIELDS FOREVER
Maybe you need to get away from the fuss at the market or just want to stretch your legs, but it’s time to explore the flowering landscape around the village. The villagers have baskets waiting at each of the outbound trails with the request that you come back with the basket full in trade for the picnic lunch they provide.

Wander the rolling hills and you’ll find a surprising amount of wildlife for an island without offspring. There are hummingbirds the size of chihuahuas, tiny pollinating bats, nectar eating possums, giant stingless bees, and more butterflies than you can shake a stick at. All of them seem entirely unafraid of humans despite being wild animals. If you get bitten or pecked, it’s your own fault.

As you fill your basket, you’ll notice patterns in what blooms. All kinds of plants bloom outside of reason and season and traditional need because the land is trying to talk to you through flowers. What did you need to hear? The villagers can help you translate when you come back from your adventure.

Notes:
1. The giant orchid mantises are still there! Thank Gideon and Harrow for negotiating a truce, so they probably won’t eat you. A mantis might even have a conversation with you if you ask nicely, (Quentin managed somehow,) and they have their own knowledge and worship of the Ancient.

2. Feel free to use any reference for plant/flower meaning. Here’s one to get started!

3. Don’t get too attached to any of the critters, they will stay here at the end of the month.

Bonus: music to watch the flowers bloom to.

Network · Logs · OOC · Memes · Plurk

Comments

Quentin Quire | Marvel 616

[quire]

flower market - ota
"You know what would be great? A RedBull. Do any of these things contain guarana? Caffeine? Any stimulants? Downers are fine but I like to go the other way."

The vendors at this little market don't seem to be paying him a whole lot of attention. "Not much of a salesman huh? Here's a tip, these tourists come from a lot of places with commodity cultures. Do you know what that means? Goods and services. No one wants to brew their own coffee but they want they coffee. You get me?"

poison garden - ota
If there's somewhere one is not supposed to go, rest assured you can probably find Quentin there. The ominous little placard outside this grim garden makes him smile and if you've stumbled on this place along side him he's going to be a bad influence.

"Oh hell yes. This is more my speed. Do you think a grave yard? Maybe they bury their oracle here. C'mon, you're not afraid are you? It's plants! Maybe don't like eat any unknowns and you'll be fine."

flowery fields - ota
While he doesn't know a damn thing about plants really, he is observant and does have a mind for spotting patterns. When he plucks something for the sake of a little meaningless destruction and something of another colour grows blooms almost instantly in its place, he's tipped off to the communicative nature of this place.

"The fuck... That's not what this was?" he holds the the little sprig of sweet woodruff in hand as he looks scornfully at the bright magenta geranium that replaced it. He plucks another. Same thing. Turning to look at the path he's been walking its wildly pink too. He cocks an eyebrow. "What the hell. You're FLOWERS you don't HAVE a collective consciousness and I don't give enough fucks about botany to know whatever the fuck this means ok? I can't even imagine I care!"

Because yelling at plants is a cool look.

Flowery Fields

[neverwither]

The coolest look. Or an attention-grabbing one, anyway. Definitely enough to have a curious Chloe wandering over. Her basket is abandoned along the way as its contents are just a collection of no, no thank you. While she'd like to chalk it up to general island strangeness that means absolutely nothing at all beyond said strangeness, the patterns can't exactly be ignored.

Evidently she might not be the only one with similar ideas.

"I'm not a botanist but I do know some about the language of flowers, if that might be of any help?"

Re: Flowery Fields

[quire]

"The language of flowe— oh my God. You mean like a handkerchief code sort of thing? Like hobo symbology but with plants? Is THAT what this is about!?" he swings his arms wide gesturing to all of this ambient flora. He's getting more and more worked up as realization dawns on him and finally it all culminates in a dramatic sigh.

"Ok! Sure! Lay it on me! What did a bunch of bougie French people make up about the meaning of pink ones versus blue ones..." He really doesn't know a damn thing about flowers. Least of all what they're all called. If he did, he might know he's talking about Geraniums and Bluebells respectively.

[neverwither]

"It's not so far from that, actually. The giving of particular flowers was used as a means to deliver messages that couldn't be said aloud." Whether he wanted the context or not, Chloe provides anyway. Just another little tidbit in the everlasting quest to be helpful.

"Well..." There's a pause in recognition of the fact that the translation might not be entirely appreciated. "The geraniums - " She gestures to the bright pink blooms. " - typically represent foolishness and folly. The sweet woodruff - " Again she gestures to the plant in question. " - represents humility."

[quire]

"Great, so we're supposed to take advice from a bunch of prudes so emotionally constipated they had to assign flowers to their feelings?"

Whether she knows it or not, basing her assumptions about how to communicate with Quentin on what she wants out of this interaction is probably the best way forward with him

"The gardener thinks they're a comedian huh? Cute." He rolls his eyes dramatically at the implication inherent in her translation of these plants into purpose. "Where's yours?" He has to ask because it hardly seems fair that the flowers have been talking about him this whole time. But as soon as he asks the question his attention turns to her with another interest. "You're a robot," he says plainly. A little surprised even. A stark difference in tone from his usual hyperbolic self.

[neverwither]

"I'm not sure if we're supposed to do anything with it. I mean... if you weren't aware of the meanings, or didn't seek the meanings out, the message would be lost. Each can do as they will with it, I suppose." She finishes with a small shrug to lessen the contradictory nature of what she's said. Since meeting with the Oracle, she's leaning less towards suspicion regarding their quest for personal betterment.

"Oh, I forgot my basket over there," she claims, waving vaguely in its direction. Though the land seems to be intent on foiling her intent to keep her flower-messages to herself. The plants emerge around her feet; yellow roses, black dahlias, columbine, purple hyacinth. Chloe steps away from them, but more follow.

Her focus soon returns to him. Usually that blunt a discovery would set her on edge. Right now, it's more of a relief. "An android, yes. What made you realise?" People are finding out so maybe it's just a case of putting two and two together. Either way, she's curious.

[quire]

"But THAT feels like the test right? What we decide to do with this knowledge. Feels like someone's watching us with a clip board making little ticks for this decision or that one," he huffs with his arms tightly crossed.

His eyes watch the flowers that spring up around her heels but they mean little to Quentin. Not only is he unlikely to know any but the most familiar ones by name, but he certainly doesn't know their purported meanings.

He follows and snatches a few off their stems to ask later. "You don't have a psionic signature," he says. "And listening for one is just like... krkrkrk. The backing track in some industrial electronica jams."

He offers out that bouquet of her own flowers. "What do these ones mean?"

Poison Garden

[what_fourth_wall]

If there's somewhere one is not supposed to go, rest assured you can probably find Deadpool there. This is likely why he and Quinten seem to be finding themselves in the same locales on these islands constantly. That and both seem to be raging against the machine here in their own ways. Like different flavors of asshole! Quintin is the pink jellybean, and Deadpool is the Jelly Belly Grape Jelly jellybean. Have you ever had that? It's the true horror of jellybeans. It looks like the delicious grape jelly bean, or perhaps a licorice one, BUT IT IS NOT. And grape jelly doesn't sound like it should be a bad flavor, but then it explodes into awfulness inside your mouth that cannot be scrubbed away. Children have played a kind of Russian Roulette with this jellybean, so many good ones, but you COULD grab this one and ruin the whole experience.

Is it unfair that Deadpool got the more detailed jellybean narration? No, this is his narration. If you want to explore the pink jellybean, Quire narration, go for it!

"Bury the Oracle?" Truthfully, random ass talk of jellybean assholes aside, Quire had him at that bit. "Oh fuck yes, let's go find that bitch. I wanna dig her up and give her a piece of my mind. Also see if she's a zombie plant. That would be kinda cool."

[quire]

He shrugs as he traipses through the gate, "I dunno if that's what they did with her. What do you do with a dead plant? I'd just dump them on the lawn, but I'm not a gardener. I'm also not a believer in flower-gods, so maybe burial isn't in their sacred playbook."

The plants here do look a little more ominous. Some in obvious ways and others in the same way little kids in horrors movies too— too innocent to actually be innocent.

"Can plants be zombies? What officially makes a zombie is it the brain-eating or the undeadness?"

[what_fourth_wall]

"Compost, my man! I bet they have a composting station somewhere around here and they spread holy mulch all over these poison beauties."

He pauses. "Oh hey, watch out....oops. You just walked through some poison oak. Can you psychically turn off your own nerves? Because that's gonna be a bitch. Those are some really healthy plants..."

As they walk some more, Deadpool glances around. Poison Oak was definitely one of the more innocent plants around here. Hopefully Quire could make him some psychic katanas if it came to it. Did that plant have teeth?

"Definitely the undeadness. But that can be magical or disease. Those are two different kinds of zombies! Although the mutation ones, while disease based, are a special kind of weird." He'd played entirely too many video games involving zombies. "Brain eating...well, I imagine that plant could eat our brain if it wanted to." He gestures at one that appears to be salivating.

[quire]

He frowns thoughtfully. Mulching the leafy broad's ashes does sort of seem on track on this place and it's locals.

It's hard to tell if the groan Quentin emits is for the frustrations inherent to this place or to Wade, but as if in response he surrounds himself with big pink psionic field. A bit like a gummy bear exo-skeleton.

"Hm. I don't know if viral zombies deserve to be called zombies. I feel like rising from the dead ought to be part of that taxonomy."

He wrinkles his nose at the plant pointed out to him. "Gross." But really, there's not a lot of strange flora that surprises him. Between the Savage Land and Krakoa he feels like's see his share of horticultural horrors. He leans in and looks a little closer. "What do you think these people would do if we planted some carnivorous plant near the temple or whatever? We should have a brought a shovel."

[what_fourth_wall]

"What would you call the viral zombies, then? The 28 Days later zombies, the Resident Evil and Dying Light zombies?"

Actually, for that matter, what were the Marvel Zombies? Virus or magic? Neither. Definitely neither. They were marketing gimmick zombies. Moneymaker zombies. And the fans sure had dug it while it lasted.

"You can do a mind shovel, right? But if we do it, we gotta make sure it's one of the more aggressively invasive ones. Like a carnivorous mint plant. Shit you can never get rid of."

[quire]

"I dunno. Plague walkers or something. I just want to delineate between the necromantically wakened and the diseased. It's strategically important," he rambles a little. Why shouldn't he get to babble some when Wade does like it's his job?

"Sure, sure I can mind shovel. But don't get used to it. I don't like it use it for too much pedestrian stuff."

He raises a curious eyebrow. "Mint? Who knew you had such a green thumb to know that much about mint. "Ok, you pick the plant and I'll dig."

poison garden

[wwrench]

In the time since his arrival, Wrench has come no closer to uncovering the mystery of why he's been brought here. Contrary to the advice of the ferryman, he seems almost worse for the wear. Bitter, confused, and impatient, he's spent his days pacing the boundaries of the island and squirreling away the kind of flora that might come in handy, should he need to put their properties to use.

Now he stands at the edge of the garden, peering in among the rows of nightshade and snakeroot, and the fat, blood-red berries of the rosary pea.

Bury her? One hand stays stagnant as he signs. His left palm bears a nasty scar and his fingers remain rigid, but the very mention of the oracle brings to mind the searing pain that had gripped him after his offering. Wrench scowls. You plan to dig her up?

[quire]

He gives this tall, lurchy blond a quick once over. "Maybe." Aloofness never lasts with someone who talks this much.

"I don't actually know if they buried her or like... turned her into mulch or whatever. What the fuck do you do with a wilted plant person?" He throws up his hands like he's not over the absurdity of the whole thing.

[wwrench]

In all the time he's spent here thus far, Wrench is pretty sure he hasn't encountered anyone who looks quite so well-suited for the environment as this man. If they're judging by looks alone, that is. The text that appears on the ScryWatch draws his attention from the pink hair and the oversized glasses, and he offers a casual shrug towards his wrist.

Depends on whether she's a perennial or annual, I guess. His hands can't exactly weigh out the difference with the injury that inhibits his left, but he doesn't seem all that committed to the point. In fact, Wrench doesn't need any more prompting to step forward and heft against the heavy gate until it opens with a thunderous creak of rusty metal.

[quire]

Quentin taps on his ScryWatch like he's been wearing it a lot longer than he has. Something about millennials and technology probably. "Ope. No. Never mind. They burned her. Remember that big ass bon-fire? Yeah. Poof. Like yard waste."

Not only does he seem unbothered by that, he's not the least bit deterred from exploring this gated space either. Put up a fence and Quentin Quire will demand to pass through it. "I don't think I've seen you here before, right? Are you new? Is this your first island?"

[wwrench]

They burned her in a bonfire? The words are right there on the face of his ScryWatch. It's impossible to think that he's mistaken what he's been told, but it hardly seems in keeping with the spirit of the island he's come to know thus far. Despite its mantises and strange pools of water, the inhabitants have seemed mostly placid. Immolation of a God hardly fits the bill.

The sprawling garden looks remarkably well-tended. The rows are neat and labeled and stand in stark contrast to the rest of the island's vegetation, which appears scattered and incidental. Someone has clearly taken care with this space, and Wrench bends down to examine the signage on a particularly unfamiliar variety of bush.

Yes, he ticks his fist. I was told the last one was a lot more like Earth. Are you from Earth?

[quire]

"Her... remains. Or whatever you wanna call it. She was already dead when they lit her up. Think of it like a viking funeral I guess," he shrugs, stopping to look occasionally at one of the placards labeling these plants, but generally he looks a big disappointed. "I was kind of expecting worse. No triffids. No Audrey. Just a lot of thorns and shit."

"Yeah, I'm from Earth. AN Earth anyway. Which may not necessarily be YOUR Earth. Hopefully someone's sort of explained how that works."

cue alice cooper, cos it's Poison!

[kyley_b]

"Maybe the ashes," Kyle agrees. He's hanging back, studying the skull painted on the gate, frowning, ready to supply a hundred different arguments about why they should turn back and go do something else.

Instead his frown deepens. "I'm not afraid," he says as he pushes Quentin aside to shove the gate open and step inside the garden. He's damned if he's going to let Quentin think he's a pussy.

☠️♥️☠️

[quire]

"Oh. Yeah. They burned her huh? Well whatever. Odds are good if they don't want anyone in here it's because there's something worth hiding from people." He can always find a reason to go places he's not supposed to.

Quentin's grin is unmistakably self-satisfied. Convincing people to do things positively delights him.

"You know anything about plants?" he asks, unconcerned with the gate the clangs shut behind them.

[kyley_b]

"Only a little bit," Kyle admits. He's surprised by how orderly the garden is, but also soothed: he does love things to be organised nearly. "My buddy Nore is the botanist nerd - I was helping her harvest a bunch of crap last month. But I'm not like, totally stupid about it."

He looks at a plot with lines of delicate white flowers growing up from fat green leaves. Lily of the Valley is written on the stake in front of the plot. A few feet away is a bush of hot pink flowers with a label reading Azaleas. Next another shrub with pink flowers, these ones more delicate: Oleander.

Kyle grins and gestures at two bushes. "These are so you. They match your hair and they're like... kinda expensive sounding."

[quire]

"I never cared about botany," he admits. What he wont admit is how much about plants he was supposed to learn on so many of Wolverine's little survivalist field trips that he actively didn't pay attention to. He will not give that man the pleasure of an I-told-you-so.

Quentin scrunches up his nose in his distaste for that. "What!? Oleander? Azaleas? These all sound like characters on the Golden Girls!"

[kyley_b]

Kyle cackles, sounding not unlike Ed the Hyena. "I could see you as a Golden Girl," he says. "We'll just get you a nice pantsuit."

He strolls over to another plot and studies the flowers there, still pleased as hell with himself. Tossing insults back and forth with Quentin has become one of his new favourite hobbies. This plot has rather tall plants that terminate in bunches of small white flowers. They're delicate, but rather plain.

Hemlock.

Kyle frowns. "...Quentin, what plant killed Socrates?"

[quire]

"Have you got an extra?" he snaps back because he can't even help himself.

He wanders a little further down the path, unable to help feeling like he should be looking for something. Like if the keepers of this place are trying to keep people out of it, it must be because they have something to hide.

"Hemlock," he says and for a moment Quentin catches himself relishing both the fact that Kyle suspected he'd know the answer to that, and the way the other man says his name. "Why?"