Arrivals - Beachville - OPEN LOG

[fluxscapemod]

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! ]

Comments

[un_wir_greywaren]

"Can you believe this shit?" Ronan eyed the box Gansey had been given and then glared sharply at the booth guy before following his friend to a more secluded area. "I know this isn't a dream."

He shakes the envelope and starts going through the items. Keys. Money. A brochure. A letter he doesn't read.

"Cabeswater magic?" He's careful to speak quietly while examining the keys. No car keys, he notices.

[affection_for_research]

"After everything that's happened, yes, I can." He still wasn't certain what had happened. He knew that he hadn't been in Cabeswater before he appeared here. There'd been no strange events, or ones that could be strange compared to their average happenings related to magic.

"If it was a dream, I wouldn't be with you." At least Gansey assumes that he wouldn't be. He didn't have any real magic. At least none that would throw him into Ronan's dreams.

Watching Ronan go through his new possessions, Gansey shook his envelope, feeling something heavy that was probably keys. "Wouldn't we have to be in Cabeswater for its magic to reach us?"

[un_wir_greywaren]

"I'm glad it's not a dream."

Ronan pulled skimmed the brochure and grunted in agreement. Cabeswater...Henrietta...everything felt very far away right then. He looked around at the overly sunshiny appeal of this new place.

"Definitely not Cabeswater's style of magic. It's Beachville magic according to this."

[affection_for_research]

Considering how often Ronan's dreams seemed to include Night Horrors, he's grateful that they're not caught in a dream. Or in Cabeswater since Gansey wasn't certain that he could keep control of his thoughts enough to make sure that they didn't get surprised by some strange creature or turn of events.

Looking over his shoulder, he tried to remember if he'd read anything about some place called Beachville. "The name seems very..." He tried to be polite, especially when he didn't know if any locals were around. "Descriptive."

When he was certain that Ronan's information had nothing further that might be helpful, he opened his own packet, finding similar brochures and items. The keys looked like they might match Ronan's, thank God. Opening the box, he was hit by scent of fresh baked cookies. Making an embarrassing, but very teenage boy sound, he pulled one from the box, and then reconsidered. "They're probably not dangerous?"

[un_wir_greywaren]

"I don't see anyone else dropping dead." Ronan glanced around to be sure he was right. "But if you're going to die eating a cookie you'd better give me half so I can die with you. Because if you leave me in this hell hole of sunshine and happy happy joy joy vomit alone I'll dream a Night Terror to help me burn it to the ground."

Ronan turned the keys over in his hand and wondered about what sort of magic happy vacation world made of magic gave you a place to live after kidnapping you. "Beachville is a lame name."

[affection_for_research]

"If we haven't died from our questionable food choices in Monmouth, we won't die from cookies." At least not from one shared cookie. Perhaps from overeating, if they tasted as good as they smelled. "And no more Night Horrors. I've had enough of those. Dream something adorable and terrifying to go with the sunshine."

He probably shouldn't have said that. Ronan might dream up gigantic kittens to terrorize the town or something else equally cute and disastrous.

Deciding to risk the cookie instead of commenting on the name, Gansey took a bite. And his eyes prickled as a memory took hold. Aurora in the kitchen, smiling at them both... "Ronan, try it, now. It's... the Barns."

[un_wir_greywaren]

Ronan was prepared to argue the difference between Night Horrors and Night Terrors when Gansey looked like he would get all misty-eyed on him and insisted he try the cookie.

Except no cookie, not even lame Beachville cookies, could be anything like his mothers.

He was doubtful even as he put his half in his mouth.

There was a sharp pain in his chest and for a moment he could see his mothers smile, hear Matthews laughter somewhere in the house, taste the fresh baked sweetness of familiarity and longing. They'd been young, happy, the sunlit kitchen was warm.

"Beachville is still a lame name." He grumbled softly, trying to hide a smile breaking at the corners of his mouth.

[affection_for_research]

As he watched Ronan, he knew the moment that his best friend realized that the cookie tasted just like the ones that Aurora had made. He could almost see her standing beside them, feel sunshine pouring through the windows, the smell of sugar and chocolate filling the air.

He wasn't quite sure how Ronan would react to that reminder of home.

When he didn't try to destroy the box or anything near them, Gansey let out a subtle sigh of relief. "It is a lame name," he agreed. "But they gave us good cookies." He held out the box to Ronan, silently offering every cookie to him. He might miss the Barns, but not to the degree Ronan did. He should have them, not Gansey.

[un_wir_greywaren]

Ronan stared into the box. He had mixed feelings about the cookies and everything this place seemed to represent. But he was still flying high with energy after having dreamed into existence a perfect copy of the Pig and he was here with Gansey.

After a moment he reached in, broke a cookie in half, and offered it to Gansey while stuffing the other half into his mouth. "It's good, but it's not perfect. It's not hers."

He took another cookie for himself, but he wasn't taking Gansey's whole box. Apparently, he hadn't deserved his own box and he was perfectly fine with that. He wouldn't trade his sharp tongue for an almost perfect box of cookies.

[affection_for_research]

No, they weren't perfect. Perfection would be Aurora beside them, awake and aware, smiling as she offered them treats as she listened to them tell her about their latest adventures on the quest. Looking around, he wondered if the magic of this place could create that type of miracle, but he knew better than to ask. Or to voice that thought near Ronan.

"But they're close," he countered, smiling when Ronan took another cookie. He couldn't be too annoyed by the reminder of his mother if he was still devouring sweets.

When he was certain that none of the other names belonged to anyone from Henrietta, he ignored a pang of disappointment as he focused on the keys and map. "We should probably try to figure out where we'll be living."

[un_wir_greywaren]

"Does the map lead the way or do we just stand around here with our head int he sand waiting for magical sign to point the way?" Ronan considered taking another cookie, but they should be saved for later. They were Gansey's reward, but the taste of them left an ache in his chest. Homesickness couldn't be allowed to take hold of him now. Not here. Not when the rush of happiness was still lingering a fresh.

The only annoying and disappointing thing about being here instead of back home was the Pig wasn't here. He'd just fucking given it to Gansey too. Which made him wonder. What happened to the life left behind and how did they get back?

That trail of thoughts was a dangerous one to travel so he ate the extra cookie he'd taken instead.