lifeaftr | Ruins Mingle Log!

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Ruins Mingle Log!

Who: Newt Geiszler

ohnehalfte and EVERYONE
What: So a bunch of people headed up towards the ruins, so they've got to all run into each other and start to congregate, right???
When: Evening of the mingle log and onwardish.
Where: The Ruins
Warnings: Um...same as the mingle log?

The beach curves up a gentle slope until it meets forest, some manner of building visible through the trees. Further exploration of this area will reveal a dilapidated building of sorts; the architecture is indiscernible to even the most skilled eye. Despite looking as if it has seen better days, there are areas that offer some form of shelter...and who knows what else. Just because it appears uninhabited doesn’t mean you won’t wind up pleasantly, or unpleasantly, surprised.

[ooc: Hey y'all! I thought this might be a good place to start getting larger groups of characters together to do some exploring, settling down, banding together and figuring out rations, etc. Feel free to throw up any threads of your own for specific things like exploration groups, a gathering in the entrance hall, whatever strikes your fancy or that you think your character would organize. Have a party!

Edit: Additionally, there is now an OOC Post for those that want to handwave their character signing up for ruin exploration]

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[Guzma laughs darkly, a quiet chuckle hissed through his teeth. He likes this kid, as morbid as they are - it's a welcome difference to the gung ho, happy attitude of...well, everyone else. Sometimes that sunshine-y attitude can be blinding, after all. Guzma squats, giving the poor kid's neck a bit of relief (though he's still taller than them even then) clicking his tongue against his teeth.]

Woe and melancholy, them wayward souls what invite us to their dreary affairs. What we need's a knight in shining armor to pave the way to hope and glory.

[A pause, and Guzma holds up a hand.] Not it.

[The sudden (and admittedly, surprising) eloquence of his words broadens their smile into something of a grin- but it's the last part that steals a laugh, almost genuinely mirthful.

Perhaps they shouldn't have stood in his way at all- though they must say they've stolen quite the conversation.]

Oh, but dare our knight be in another castle? I think they must, for I see no solemn soul, no shining heart to guide our way. [They clutch their chest, free hand pressed to their forehead.]

Oh, what are we to do? I fear 'burn it all' may be our only solution.

[You can't slam at a rap battle without being lyrically inclined. Guzma's not as simple as he looks, and he's an expert at the art of metaphor...when he needs and wants to be, anyway. Most times he just doesn't care enough, but this conversation is entertaining as hell, and it's a welcome reprieve from the suffocating positivity he's forced to swallow from so many people around him. The pessimism, or perhaps realism is embraced gladly.]

Yooo, that princess must be gettin' lucky! [HE KNOW THAT REFERENCE, YOU LITTLE ANKLE-BITER, and his laughter joins in with Chara's. Guzma breaths in, rolling his head to soothe the ache in his neck. He'll probably need to crouch after a while, so he doesn't have to look down his nose at the kid so much. He snorts again, putting a hand over his heart.]

To ash we return...what a world, what a world!! Heh, you're a pretty messed up kid. [And yet he's grinning from ear to ear, like he just complimented Chara's smile.]

My, how crude. [They hardly seem upset about that, though. If anything, Chara seems to be enjoying this more and more- because quite frankly, they are. It's with new eyes that they assess the man in front of him; less pointed smiles and more appraisal.

Wade was the same when they met him, wasn't he.]

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust...alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio; a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy- [They take it as the compliment it is, bowing in one sweeping, dramatic gesture.] Thank you. I assume I'll be here for some time.

[Guzma shames his head, snickering quietly but enough that his shoulders shake somewhat. A weird kid indeed, but he likes that - the ones that are less high-strung and energetic are a truth breath of fresh air. He's so used to the cheerful, hopeful brat screaming 'adventure' and 'friendship' in his ear that the words have lost their novelty entirely.]

You sing me a sonnet, homie, and I'm 'fraid I'll lose my respect for you. [PLEASE DON'T, Guzma has enough of a time trying to wrap his head around Shakespeare. Old form linguistics like that are a notch above his comprehension...or maybe a few notches.] For as long as we cheat death, you mean.

[A more grim topic, yes, but it's reality, isn't it? How long do they have, really, before they run out of food and water? Until the elements set in, or until some monstrous entity finds and consumes them?]

I'm afraid I'm not much of a singer, sir. [Really, they aren't. The very thought takes them back- far too much. To a bridge bathed in golden light, a skeleton watching them with black sockets as they set shadow after shadow alight.

He said they could be human again. He lied.]

You'd be surprised. Places like these have a habit of cheating death.

Guzma will do just fine, pipsqueak. [A grimace. No one's ever called him sir...unless he was pissed off - and even then it was a rarity. Normally he was often called by his name, a simple G, or 'boss' by his grunts. Sir seems grossly formal, so unfitting for him.]

Huh, wouldn't be the first time that happened to your boy here, but... Y'all sound like you know a thing or two 'bout all this. [He raises a brow down at the child, scrutinizing them somewhat. There've been others that have mentioned others worlds before, and he's not denying their existence...but it's still such a strange concept. Places farther out than his world; places that don't have pokemon. That is tough to swallow.]

And Kidwun is perfectly acceptable in turn, mister Guzma. [Pipsqueak? They hardly look impressed. That's almost as bad as that one, idiot woman who decided to call them Stripes.

But then, that was a very long time ago, wasn't it.]

I've simply heard a few tales. It's only logical to assume when something goes to such lengths to bring you somewhere, it usually isn't for you to die.

Kidw--... [Slowly, Guzma screws up his face, then regards the child very carefully. Either they're hiding their true name for reasons he's not really concerned with knowing, or their parents were awful at names. Or just despicable people, perhaps. He sighs, rubbing his fingers through his hair. Whatever, though he may cut that down to just 'Kid' for ease and...courtesy.]

That ain't the whole truth, is it? But...y'all does got a point. [He shakes his head with a sigh, and his eyes squeeze shut as he remembers his time in another world. He remembers a sort of soft, trilling sound, a weight pressing on his back and neck, then a burning, stinging sensation and then--]

Tch!! ...No use of killing us yet. Nah, any beasties what wanna make a meal of anything...they usually play with it, first.

Edited 2017-08-28 01:29 (UTC)

[He accuses them of lying, and Chara simply smiles, until the subject changes. He's a stranger, just as they're a stranger to him- if he notices something off, he doesn't really care.

Which makes for excellent practice, for those times when someone might care.]

I suppose. But then, it's a lot of effort just for a meal, is it not?

There are plenty of other options as to why we're here. For the time being, I suppose I shall be the optimist in expecting one of them to be more likely.

[Optimist, huh? That doesn't suit the kid one bit, not when they were spouting things about death and fire just a second ago, but hey. Who's he to judge or say anything? Guzma's brows lift up and he hums quietly, putting his hands on his knees as he shifts into a squatting position, his back lightly against the stone.]

Ain't gonna be holding my breath, but I could sure as heck use an actual vacation. [If one could call...whatever this is that.] 'Welcome to paradise, cousin'...heh.

[Surely even they are allowed one, small slice of optimism. Or perhaps they simply like to argue.

Both, even. Still, they show their lack of understanding with the phrase with a slow blink, as if parsing what he's just said.]

Fortunately for you, I don't believe we're related.

[Guzma shakes his head, snickering as he holds up a finger.]

It's a slogan - a motto what them tourist bureau brochures have plastered all over'a place. I come from an island a lot like this, yeah? Sun, sand, relaxation, and all that. People what like to call Alola paradise...and real Alolan natives call their friends or acquaintances 'cousin' - term of endearment or something. Nothing more'n that.

Believe me, y'all don't want someone like me on your family tree.

How...quaint.

[What type of world had that kind of 50's housewife agenda going on? Next thing they knew, he'd be telling them that police barely existed, and children such as themselves often roamed the streets alone at all hours of the night.]

I am perfectly fine having but two living persons on my family tree, thank you.

[They're also expected to climb active volcanoes and fight literal alien monsters by the Poke-CIA.

Guzma shrugs again at the first bit - yeah, it sounds cheesy as all hell, he knows. He's mocked the slogan for years for a variety of reasons. Paradise has a different meaning to a multitude of different people, after all. And Alola isn't without it's own problems, for sure. A villainous Team, know for thieving Pokemon and causing general mayhem...how nefarious.]

Understandable. I'd weigh y'all down anyway. [He shakes his head slowly, leaning back with a slow exhale.] Don't need one of those anyway - more trouble'n what they worth.

[The child protection laws in Alola are a bix lax, my guy.]

A sentiment shared, truly. [Family- Frisk realistically didn't count as such, if Chara were to be honest. They're far more than that; friend, Partner... words never would do them justice.] At the least, you won't have to worry about that here, mister Guzma.

[Oh, hm. This is...interesting, to say the least. A sentiment shared, huh? Guzma wonders, idly, what other 'sentiments' he shares with these two wayward children. It's obvious now they've run away from home, or at least don't come from a very good one. He's trying to piece together the puzzle, because it's so obvious - to one who has the foresight to look anyway - that these children are more than they appear to be. But that begs the question: what business does he have to look? Or to care? Well, that's a question he doesn't have an answer to, yet.

Guzma smiles and shrugs his shoulders with a lazy sigh. That's never a guarantee, kid, don't make promises. He doesn't want any part of a family unit, but things like that tend to creep up on people - especially when they begin to care. Annoying, that. Guzma's still learning how to stop it from happening himself.]

Here's hoping.

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Ruins Mingle Log!

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