catch-all open log!

[rebells]

Who: Anyone and everyone!
Where: On the beach, and various other places throughout the hub island
When: Day 80, and the next couple days after
Open/Closed: open log for hub shenanigans!

[This evening, someone has placed an old, rusted-over camp stove on the beach near the coven's row of huts--anyone examining it in detail will see that it's not operational at the moment, but that could potentially be changed, couldn't it? If someone was handy with mechanical things . . . .

Next to it is a crate (which, from the weight of it is empty) and pinned to that crate is a sheet of paper with a map on it, something like a much cruder, black-and-white version of this:



with the following key:

1 - crags. Contain snakes which may be poisonous. Watch out.
2 - ocean, going about one mile out from the coast.
3 - lagoon. Contains thick reeds (could be woven or shaped into tools) and frogs (edibility uncertain).
4 - abandoned campsite.
5 - orchard. Currently, trees are diseased and bare. Plant healer needed.
6 - abandoned house. A family used to live here, from the looks of it. Still contains some useful supplies.

And there should be a 7 north of base camp with the notation "graveyard. Graves unused." but the player forgot and is too lazy to go back and fix it right now. Observant individuals will note that the map looks like a more detailed version of one hanging on the door to a certain coven member's cabin, one that has a note on the bottom: "Have information? Ask for Jay."

Other than that, it's a quiet night on the hub island. We've been here for a couple days; maybe you're getting restless? Want to check out that ocean, or lagoon, or even those crags? Maybe just go door-to-door in the beach huts? Maybe you're sick of shrimp and looking for other things to eat . . . hopefully someone's got a fire going tonight, and thought to kill a boar . . . .

What are you doing tonight?]


((here or here for place descriptions))

Comments

[lefthandfree]

That earns a laugh.

“Pal,” he breathes out through his chuckle. “It is the weapon.” Sure, nothing fancy like an extra loaded set of heat seeking missiles like Tony’s got in his fancy suit, but Bucky’s never needed that when there were so many viable weapons around anyway. And, at worst, the arm still packed a significant wallop.

Since the guy’s clearly enamored, Bucky decides to show it off a little more, flexing the joints and letting the plates reset themselves rhythmically as they always do.

[mech_and_mutt]

Well, that may not have had the rugged charm of bars-and-pistons but damn if Bucky didn't make it look cool regardless. It was taking a conscious effort not to gush. He'd restrain himself just a little bit.

"S'pretty cool. Glad you got to keep it when ya got here."

"New guy, right? That thing work with your new magic, too?"

[lefthandfree]

“Considering it’s my arm—” he starts before catching the follow-up and lighting up. “Actually, y’know, I was really surprised, but it does.”

As proof he phases his flesh arm through his metal arm. Or is it his metal arm through his flesh arm? He can’t tell. They’re both not at full density, so one goes through the other (or both go through each other?). And then. He. Starts sinking into the ground because he’s not that good at this yet, so pardon him as he flinches back into solidity to keep from disappearing into the ground to never be heard from again.

Looking toward his companion, he smiles sheepishly. “Sorry. Still getting used it, uh...” Cue for your intro, pal.

[mech_and_mutt]

"Red. Red Savarin." That's alright, Red can lend a hand and tug his new friend back up to the surface. "Cool trick, though-- I know a zombie you should talk to."

Maybe give her some new friends other than him.

"Don't think I caught your name? Didja even drop it?"

[lefthandfree]

“Red,” he repeats to himself before nodding. “And a zombie?” A short laugh. “What, do they need a ghost for a friend? You’re right, though. Didn’t quite drop it yet. Name’s James.”

He offers his hand. That’s. Is that normal for other people? Well, whatever. It’s too late. Hand’s there if Red wants to shake it.

“Good to meet you, Red.”

[mech_and_mutt]

Dangit-- why couldn't James have used his other hand? Then he'd have been able to get a grip on that cool metal arm. Oh well; at the very least Red could follow suit with a firm handshake.

"You too. But whaddaya mean 'ghost'? You seem pretty solid. ...most of the time."

[lefthandfree]

Sorry, pal. Being right-handed means that the metal left isn’t prioritized. But maybe if you ask real nice, he’ll let you get a closer look.

“Well, yeah, but that’s what it’s like when I’m not solid, right? Like a ghost? At least where I’m from. But I guess ghosts aren’t supposed to fall through the ground either, so maybe I’m more like a...failed-ghost.” That’s a thing, right? “Actually, it might be better to not bring up the ghost part,” he laughs.

[mech_and_mutt]

"Oh! Nah, Rotty's got that same kinda thing goin' on. She loves using it to pop outta the ground and scare people. ...You'll probably see her sooner or later."

He turned around to glance back at the map-- RIGHT. That whole fishing question.

"As for fishin'... well, I kinda have, but nothin' like what I see other people doin'. Mine involved much, much bigger harpoons, for one..."

[lefthandfree]

“Oh.” Well, shit. She already sounds like a riot and just Buck’s speed. He grins a bit at that and leaves off on the topic when he catches Red looking back toward the map.

Needless to say, the mention of harpoons isn’t what Bucky’s expecting to hear.

“Wait, harpoons?” His brows shoot up, eyes squinting in confusion. “Like the kind you’d use to gut a whale?” And bigger at that. What the hell kinda fish does Red encounter?

[mech_and_mutt]

"It's really more like a spear on a chain. Fired out of a-- oh, hang on, let me try and remember..."

But Red's tensed look of focus isn't just for show; as strange though he may appear as he concentrates, Hopefully 'James' has had a bit of time to acclimate himself to telepathy; either way, he soon notices a bit of an intrusive thought entering his mind's eye-- one that, surprisingly, isn't his own, and gradually snaps into a distinct image:



"Uwaagh!!"

It practically implodes with a pop as Red's hands clutch against his forehead, his look of concentration now screwed down into a wince. "Why do I keep gettin' headaches whenever I try to do that?!"

[lefthandfree]

Frankly, Bucky had been playing it safe and avoiding telepathic contact thus far, so the injection of the image comes as a surprise, enough so that he takes a step back in defensive shock, but that quickly subsides when Red cries out in pain. He steps back in, concerned, hands hovering close but not wanting to invade Red’s personal space without permission.

“Geezus. Are you okay?” Considering what Red had said prior to his response, obviously the guy was okay enough, but it’s more than worrying for someone to send an image like that and then suddenly suffer for it. “Is it from sending that thought? With all the... The image, I mean.”

And, for the record, Bucky thinks the image he got was pretty badass, but now isn’t really the time to mention that.

[mech_and_mutt]

"Yeah. Haven't quite got the hang of all this yet," he murmurs. He's... going to decline to mention that he's had three months to do so. Ain't his fault that telepathy's all wonky that way, right?

"...Mecha-mounted harpoons. So the whole rod-and-net thing's a new one for me."

[lefthandfree]

He nods at Red’s explanation, withdrawing his hands.

“It’s not supposed to hurt when you use it though, right?” At least, no one’s said anything about that to him quite yet. “I mean, if it is, then I don’t blame you for not having the hang of it...” Unlike the burn of working out, this seems more like one would be shooting oneself in the foot with repeats.

“We use a rod, line, and hook where I’m from, though. Is...that different for you too?”

[mech_and_mutt]

"Dunno. Every time I've tried to use it to give someone a picture it's felt like havin' a nail driven into my dome. Maybe I just need more practice... just carryin' on a conversation didn't hurt at all."

"Dunno about that. Never gone fishin' the 'normal' way before, but that's probably how it works."

[lefthandfree]

Hold on there, buddy. “I mean. If it hurts that bad, then maybe that’s a sign you should just stick to the normal talking and not with the mental images.” At least, that’s what he would do.

“Anyway. I’m not sure how you’r gonna try fishing if y’don’t really know how it’s done, pal.”

[mech_and_mutt]

"Picture's worth a thousand words, right? Besides, I probably just don't have the hang of it yet. All the new stuff here takes a little time to get used t--"

Well that led to a somewhat unpleasant thought.

"...What happens if you lose control halfway through the ground? Do you get stuck?"

[lefthandfree]

He’s listening calmly until the latter interjection, when the very real possibility of getting stuck forever in the ground is once again brought to his attention. He tenses visibly, grimacing.

“Y’know, as interesting as it’d be to find out... I don’t...know if I want to find out.”

[mech_and_mutt]

"Well at least you know you've got telepathy if you gotta ask for help. I think there's a shovel somewhere at that old mansion I could use."

"Doubt it'll happen, though. You'd probably just end up in the wrong place or something."

[lefthandfree]

“God, I can’t think of anything more embarrassing than needing to ask someone get dig me out of the ground... I don’t know how I could end up anywhere else though. I mean, unless there’re some crazy underground tunnels I don’t know about yet.”

[mech_and_mutt]

"Not like that! Y'know, goin' too far this way or that, comin' out in someone's shack, that kinda thing."

"Besides, we all get growing pains with our powers. Mine kept spillin' out without my even realizing it."

[lefthandfree]

“Uh. I mean. I don’t...really know what you mean by that, actually. ‘Too far this way or that,’ that is.”

“...but maybe tell me what you mean by ‘spilling’ first because that’s...considerably more alarming than the other thing you just said.”

[mech_and_mutt]

"S'not as bad as it sounds. When I first got here a coupla boars kept nipping at my heels so I tried to fend 'em off. Fought 'em for hours before I realized something was up."

"Turns out my magic is just that I don't get tired out, and apparently it was spreadin' out to the boars, too."

[lefthandfree]

Well, that’s certainly useful. Or, well, it should be if it isn’t spreading around unintentionally. For that matter though...

“Does that mean you don’t have to sleep?”

Serious question. Because that’s...actually kind of sad. Even if he’s used to little sleep from his training and also the nightmares, there’s nothing quite like the feeling of getting proper rest in the form of sleep. At least in his book.

[mech_and_mutt]

"...I dunno! Never tried; I get bad enough headaches just trying to keep on top of the whole telepathy thing. I don't wanna think what a day without sleep'll do to me."

"Nah, more of a run-a-lap-'round-the-island-and-not-feel-exhausted sorta thing."

[lefthandfree]

“Oh, so like. Physical exhaustion. Gotcha.” That still doesn’t seem so bad though. Or, well...

“I mean, can you stop it from spilling off from you? Or can you not stop it at all?”