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fluxscape2020-09-26 12:26 pm
fluxscapemod) wrote in fluxscape2020-09-26 12:26 pm
Arrivals - Beachville pt 2: OTA!
Who: New Arrivals, Jerry Schiff and YOU!!
What: More arrivals show up in Beachville. There are cookies for the people that behave.
Where: The Information Booth which, while at the same place it always is, seems to have changed a tad!
When: Mid-Morning, September 27th.
Warnings: Just mind your CWs. There's probably swearing, too.
It starts off simple enough. There isn't even any warning. No feeling like something's coming. No little instinct in the back of your head or what have you that tells you change is coming. You blink, your setting has changed. It's as simple and as quick as that. From where you stand, you're surrounded by tall palm trees. The ground beneath your feet is green, a well maintained lawn like one would find in a city park. A clean, salty scent only found on untouched, tropical paradises. You can hear the sounds of the beach. People laughing, amusement park rides thundering in the background. And it's actually pretty peaceful. Even the weather is perfect. Just the right amount of Summer heat without being muggy or humid. There are tropical birds singing in the trees around you, and a light breeze in the trees, rustling the leaves. It's pleasant. Until someone clears their throat nearby. And this is when you notice you're not the only person standing there with a confused look on your face. You're part of a crowd, surrounding an information booth with an older gentleman inside, several stone paths leading away from the booth and towards the nearby beach town.
Was that information booth always there? And how long has the man inside been watching you with that look on his face that suggests he's internally sighing at your presence? He seems friendly enough, however, and once all eyes are on him, he begins speaking.
"Can I have your attention please?" he says, voice calm, lightly accented, fairly monotone, but still gets your attention just the same. And certainly 'no nonsense.' "My name is Jerry Schiff and I run the information booth. I have several envelopes with names on them, so if you hear your name, please step forward and claim your money and information."
With that, he runs down the list of names. And what do you know, your name is on that list.
When you approach, you'll be handed a packet containing money, enough to get through the month, and an information pamphlet about Beachville, along with a note from the mayor welcoming you to town and telling you your stipend only lasts so long and there are many employment opportunities in town. There's also a map with an address and a set of keys. This is where you'll live. The last thing he says to you is to check the chest in your living-room, you'll know which one, before he hands the polite people a box of cookies. They smell amazing and the box is warm, like they're very, very fresh. You might even find your favorite cookies in the box. They've won awards and are delicious. Just as an aside, though; for anyone that's rude, no cookies. For anyone that tries to take a box anyway, they'll find the box is empty. Maybe even full of dead leaves and rocks. That's what you get for acting up, apparently.
Rude enough and he'll shut the information booth windows. No amount of knocking and screaming, magic or psychic abilities will get the doors open again. The booth is pretty resistant, as is the man inside.
Once everyone has their information, Jerry will thank everyone for their cooperation, close the booth down and head into town. Try to follow him. After rounding a corner, he'll seem to vanish and no amount of looking will find him again.
It seems as though the only things left to do are either talk to the people around you, or find your new home.
What: More arrivals show up in Beachville. There are cookies for the people that behave.
Where: The Information Booth which, while at the same place it always is, seems to have changed a tad!
When: Mid-Morning, September 27th.
Warnings: Just mind your CWs. There's probably swearing, too.
It starts off simple enough. There isn't even any warning. No feeling like something's coming. No little instinct in the back of your head or what have you that tells you change is coming. You blink, your setting has changed. It's as simple and as quick as that. From where you stand, you're surrounded by tall palm trees. The ground beneath your feet is green, a well maintained lawn like one would find in a city park. A clean, salty scent only found on untouched, tropical paradises. You can hear the sounds of the beach. People laughing, amusement park rides thundering in the background. And it's actually pretty peaceful. Even the weather is perfect. Just the right amount of Summer heat without being muggy or humid. There are tropical birds singing in the trees around you, and a light breeze in the trees, rustling the leaves. It's pleasant. Until someone clears their throat nearby. And this is when you notice you're not the only person standing there with a confused look on your face. You're part of a crowd, surrounding an information booth with an older gentleman inside, several stone paths leading away from the booth and towards the nearby beach town.
Was that information booth always there? And how long has the man inside been watching you with that look on his face that suggests he's internally sighing at your presence? He seems friendly enough, however, and once all eyes are on him, he begins speaking.
"Can I have your attention please?" he says, voice calm, lightly accented, fairly monotone, but still gets your attention just the same. And certainly 'no nonsense.' "My name is Jerry Schiff and I run the information booth. I have several envelopes with names on them, so if you hear your name, please step forward and claim your money and information."
With that, he runs down the list of names. And what do you know, your name is on that list.
When you approach, you'll be handed a packet containing money, enough to get through the month, and an information pamphlet about Beachville, along with a note from the mayor welcoming you to town and telling you your stipend only lasts so long and there are many employment opportunities in town. There's also a map with an address and a set of keys. This is where you'll live. The last thing he says to you is to check the chest in your living-room, you'll know which one, before he hands the polite people a box of cookies. They smell amazing and the box is warm, like they're very, very fresh. You might even find your favorite cookies in the box. They've won awards and are delicious. Just as an aside, though; for anyone that's rude, no cookies. For anyone that tries to take a box anyway, they'll find the box is empty. Maybe even full of dead leaves and rocks. That's what you get for acting up, apparently.
Rude enough and he'll shut the information booth windows. No amount of knocking and screaming, magic or psychic abilities will get the doors open again. The booth is pretty resistant, as is the man inside.
Once everyone has their information, Jerry will thank everyone for their cooperation, close the booth down and head into town. Try to follow him. After rounding a corner, he'll seem to vanish and no amount of looking will find him again.
It seems as though the only things left to do are either talk to the people around you, or find your new home.
no subject
"Maybe. I don't understand why they wouldn't just tell us though." Putting both of her elbows on the table, Blue rested her chin on her hands -- she looked a little defeated. There was nothing but endless questions and no answers in sight. "They told us about this whole pocket dimension, so why not spill all the tea?"
She glanced around at the other people who were in the restaurant with them, as though trying to decipher if they’d been here all along and knew what was going on, or if they were just as clueless as the two of them were. Unfortunately, that was impossible to tell by only looking at them. “There should have been a Q&A part of that introduction speech he gave us."
no subject
But everyone else here was acting like it was business as usual, and their names had been called, like they'd been expected. You couldn't expect people and screw up at the same time unless you were really good at screwing up. So either this kind of thing happened all the time, or it hadn't been a mistake at all. Which brought them back to square one.
"He didn't seem like the kind of person to appreciate a Q&A." Not that that would have stopped Adam if he'd had a better chance to ask questions. "We could try to find him again, though," he suggested. "Maybe he knows who's in charge of all of this, and we can ask them."
no subject
Surely if they asked nice enough, he’d give them some kind of information. That was his job, after all.
“He shouldn’t be running an information booth if he doesn’t want to answer questions,” Blue muttered, tapping her fingers against her cheeks thoughtfully. “I think we should go back and try talking to him before you try scrying.” The safer option before the dangerous one. If Blue Sargent is anything, it’s sensible.
no subject
"All right. Maybe we'll get all the answers we need and I won't have to scry." If they were lucky. Or maybe they would at least get enough information to put them on a different, less dangerous, path. "He has to know something about what's going on here."