fluxscape mods. (
fluxscapemod) wrote in
fluxscape2020-08-14 09:00 pm
Entry tags:
Arrivals - Beachville - OPEN LOG
Who: You and Jerry, the info booth guy!
What: Arrivals! Information! Money! New Homes!
Where: What's commonly referred to as the Information Hub.
When: August 15th, Mid Afternoon.
Synopsis: New faces arrive in Beachville. Jerry is a helper! Probably! Most likely, he isn't. At least, not as well as people wish. He can only tell people so much, see. But there are cookies, if you aren't a jerk.
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 a mix of dirt and sand and you can smell the ocean. 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.
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. 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.
[ooc: please warn for anything triggery in your threads! thanks! ]
What: Arrivals! Information! Money! New Homes!
Where: What's commonly referred to as the Information Hub.
When: August 15th, Mid Afternoon.
Synopsis: New faces arrive in Beachville. Jerry is a helper! Probably! Most likely, he isn't. At least, not as well as people wish. He can only tell people so much, see. But there are cookies, if you aren't a jerk.
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 a mix of dirt and sand and you can smell the ocean. 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.
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. 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.
[ooc: please warn for anything triggery in your threads! thanks! ]

no subject
"And I wouldn't be so sure, I've read a lot of murder mysteries there the culprit lured the victim into a false sense of security. So you shouldn't trust anyone."
no subject
She was so taken by her image of him, that Alice had quite stopped listening to what he said and remembered to listen (though she didn't really care to what she was listening to, which is why she stopped in the first place) only to hear his last sentence.
"Then why should I believe you in the slightest?"
no subject
Her question gives him pause though because honestly, she has a good point. "I'm not saying you have too, I'm just saying you shouldn't trust everyone that's nice. I find it's easier not to trust anyone at all."
no subject
no subject
"Hmm... well, I guess if you must know, there are two people I trust. Sort of. I guess it depends on the subject. -But I do know better than to trust a kidnapper."
no subject
"Maybe we weren't kidnapped. Maybe we became lost and this is the place for found things and people. A place in-between everything."