fluxscape mods. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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fluxscape2020-10-26 09:14 pm
fluxscapemod) wrote in fluxscape2020-10-26 09:14 pm
(no subject)
Who: New arrivals and YOU.
What: The last group arrival day before things go weird again (more on that later.)
Where: Greenway Park Information Booth.
When: Mid-Afternoon, Sunday the 25h.
Warnings: None as yet.
You know how it goes. One minute, you're in your own world. You're minding your own business. Going about your day, or maybe you're in the middle of something very, very important. Whatever the case, whether you blinked or you turned around or what have you, you're not where you were before. The first thing you might notice are the sounds around you. It's loud. Crowded. Horns honk and people shout and there's just the constant buzz of activity around you as people play and walk through and hang out in the massive park you find yourself in.
You're in a city. A large, bustling city full of people and all the chaos cities bring.
And somehow, over the din and aggressive noise pollution, you hear someone call your name.
There's an information booth nearby, with a man seated inside, watching you with vague but warm interest over the rim of his newspaper. Motioning you over, he has a packet of information for you and as he does so, he states simply;
"Check your pockets." Unless you're wearing something that doesn't have pockets, in which case, the man will tell you to check the ribbon hanging around your neck. At the end of it is a key. Maybe it's strange to you, and it'll unlock one of the apartments in the buildings nearby. Or maybe it's familiar, and you'll find a shell of your home on the outskirts of the city.
"It would be in your best interest," the man says as he points out the packet of information and hands you an envelope full of money that seem to shift colors very subtly. "If you read all of the information I just gave you."
And he's right. It has where you'll live, where to find jobs, information on a housemate (if you have one) and information on the cellphone he hands you. And there's a box of cookies that taste exactly like your favorite from home, the first bite recalling fond memories of eating them with loved ones, or biting into one fresh from your favorite bakery.
Unless you're rude, in which case, he simply stares at you until you walk away. And remember, if you persist in your behavior, he simply shuts the info booth and no manner of physical or magical attempts will get it to budge in the slightest. Or damage it.
With your cookies and information in hand, he simply gives you a small nod and a half-smile that clearly say it's time for you to move on and he resumes reading his paper.
Welcome to Wechester City.
What: The last group arrival day before things go weird again (more on that later.)
Where: Greenway Park Information Booth.
When: Mid-Afternoon, Sunday the 25h.
Warnings: None as yet.
You know how it goes. One minute, you're in your own world. You're minding your own business. Going about your day, or maybe you're in the middle of something very, very important. Whatever the case, whether you blinked or you turned around or what have you, you're not where you were before. The first thing you might notice are the sounds around you. It's loud. Crowded. Horns honk and people shout and there's just the constant buzz of activity around you as people play and walk through and hang out in the massive park you find yourself in.
You're in a city. A large, bustling city full of people and all the chaos cities bring.
And somehow, over the din and aggressive noise pollution, you hear someone call your name.
There's an information booth nearby, with a man seated inside, watching you with vague but warm interest over the rim of his newspaper. Motioning you over, he has a packet of information for you and as he does so, he states simply;
"Check your pockets." Unless you're wearing something that doesn't have pockets, in which case, the man will tell you to check the ribbon hanging around your neck. At the end of it is a key. Maybe it's strange to you, and it'll unlock one of the apartments in the buildings nearby. Or maybe it's familiar, and you'll find a shell of your home on the outskirts of the city.
"It would be in your best interest," the man says as he points out the packet of information and hands you an envelope full of money that seem to shift colors very subtly. "If you read all of the information I just gave you."
And he's right. It has where you'll live, where to find jobs, information on a housemate (if you have one) and information on the cellphone he hands you. And there's a box of cookies that taste exactly like your favorite from home, the first bite recalling fond memories of eating them with loved ones, or biting into one fresh from your favorite bakery.
Unless you're rude, in which case, he simply stares at you until you walk away. And remember, if you persist in your behavior, he simply shuts the info booth and no manner of physical or magical attempts will get it to budge in the slightest. Or damage it.
With your cookies and information in hand, he simply gives you a small nod and a half-smile that clearly say it's time for you to move on and he resumes reading his paper.
Welcome to Wechester City.
no subject
"I might be able to. What seems to be the problem?" Bruce cants his head to the side and waits patiently.
no subject
"The problem is I've never heard of Wechester City, but the man at the info booth seems to have been expecting me. Are you a resident, or have you been brought in by surprise, too?"
no subject
"If you had heard of Wechester City, I would be surprised. Most of us have." Bruce nods to the man in the booth. "Jerry, by the way."
Then, he offers his hand. "Bruce Wayne. I come from a place called Gotham City. Doubt you've heard of it."
no subject
"Jerry was pleasant to talk to," Lara says, almost conceding to the fact. It's not that she's not used to people being kind. Far from it. She's just used to strangers who know her name wanting her dead. So she was wary of Jerry and might be wary of the box of cookies stacked neatly with her pile of information.
Lara shifts the items and balances them carefully on her hip, extending her hand. Her wrist still bears the medical ID tag from the hospital.
"Lara Croft. I can't say I've heard of Gotham City." She might have. But honestly, she's still taking in so much information she might not even remember it for a while.
no subject
"Which means we're from a different world. That's common here." He gestures to the city. "You've walked into something of a mystery."
no subject
"How do you mean?"
no subject