November Adventure: The Good, The Bad, And The Dirty

[lifeaftr_mods]

NEW ISLAND: MONSUN

Who: Everyone!
What: Monsun appears, and a new adventure begins.
When: November 24th
Where: Across the islands!
Warnings: Tag as you go!

I've Never Been Better- Or Worse
As per the Storyteller's advice, the morning of the 24th will find characters waking to the sight of land in the far distance; Monsun is now accessible for one-way travel. Your mission, should you choose to volunteer for it? Traverse to this new land, and locate the mana pool. All characters will be reminded on departure that they may not be capable of returning until they have, so pack wisely.

The land of Monsun, even from a distance, may strike travelers as a peculiar one. One half appears to be made up of lush, deciduous woodland entirely at odds with the coastal, tropical aesthetic that Ensō so boasts. The other half appears to be dry and bare, full of cracking cliffs and sandy wastelands. Indeed, once characters set foot on this new land, they will discover that this is precisely the case: the island is divided by a dark ribbon of water, an east side rich with life and a west side stark and rife with danger.

And yet, it isn't that simple.

Feeling prepared? Now is the time to make arrangements and collect what you'll need for the journey. Find companions, say goodbye to loved ones- and of course, take your first step forwards into new lands. Best of luck, adventurers.

You may need it.

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Welcome to the new island of Monsun! As the island is now accessible, feel free to begin preparations and explorations in this log- or create new ones of your own! For further information in regards to the island, or plotting, the following links may prove handy:

OOC info and plotting post

Group Arrangements and RNG Group Opt-ins

Monsun on the locations page

Search Requests

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LOGS ● OOC ● STORIES ● MAIN NAVIGATION

( CODED BY BOOTYCALL )

Comments

[yallstupid]

[Guzma was already skulking about the campsite, inspecting the items left behind by the previous owners. He wonders what ever happened to them all - the others that were here so long ago. Things like what happened to those in the caves rakes a hundred dagger-like claws down his back, and the scars left by a certain creature from his world seem to sting all the more. Is that going to be their fate, too? Lying around, waiting for some disease, some monster, to do them all in?

Like hell. He's battled one body snatching son of a bitch before, he's not being led into hell by anyone else again. If he could get his hands on the Storyteller for real, well...they'd be none too happy he found a sturdy enough weapon, would they?

Guzma snaps his eyes back to his companion, his teeth grinding together. Excuse you, little guy? You wanna make trouble? Guzma's fingers curl and uncurl, and he breathes evenly, slowly, the air around him simmering.]

Says the li'l guy who looks ready to wet himself. You don't like hanging around, y'all is welcome to take off. No problem of mine.

[Don't think he didn't notice all those jerky movements and you looking around like a mouse. Guzma inspects the contents of the tents, a bit frustrated there isn't any salvageable food. The tools and weapons are great, but he wanted food. That's what they really need to bring back - though the shovel is pretty useful for farming and stuff. Maybe he'll hang onto that.]

[jinglejangle]

Wet himself?

[McCree scoffs, though Guzma's words do get to him. He doesn't particularly like being called little, or having to deal with-

Well.

With assholes, which is probably ironic because he has to deal with himself every damn day.

He shakes his head, folding up the net in front of him and tucking it into his pack. He hasn't grabbed as much as he knows he needs - but who even knows when he'll get back to the stupid house he's tried to pull together? At this point, he doesn't want to go back. There's nothing there, anyways.

Angela's just gone in the wind, vanished away, and Fareeha...She'd be better off without him. Just like how things are supposed to go.]

Seems like y'got nothin' but problems, here. Ain't exactly subtle with the way y'look like you're about to rip your damn hair out.

[Which is as close to a "fucking fight me, bro" as McCree is going to get.]

[yallstupid]

[Guzma's demeanor shifts very, very suddenly. It never did take a lot to spark his fire - a single word, a gesture, anything at all. When he's wound up, all it takes is the tiniest little bit of strain to make him snap. But it's not anger - not the white-hot rage, but a more unhinged smile that spreads wide on his face, teeth bared in a hideous grin that'd make the Cheshire cat envious.]

Dog, you ain't even scratched the surface of how many problems I got.

[He chuckles softly, his shoulders shaking as he lays a hand on the top of the wooden handed of the shovel he was eyeballing. It's not the pike - that'd do more damage, obviously - but the shovel is closer, has a longer reach. And if he aims that sharp, pointed end of the spade just right--...]

[jinglejangle]

[So that's how it's going to be, is it?

McCree's eyes track Guzma, his hand lingering just a little bit lower, inching just a little bit closer to the holster. It'd be easy. Just a bullet between the eyes and nobody would know. Hell, maybe nobody would even care.

He could stop all of this in its tracks, but he doesn't.]

Let me guess - y'got ninety-nine of 'em, and they've all got to do with you.

[It's an old, dated joke, was ancient by the time McCree was born - but hey. He doesn't see why he has to take this joker seriously.]

[yallstupid]

Ooh, hit the nail only partially, homeboy. Ninety-nine problems...

[A man his size shouldn't be able to move so fast, but he does. The moment McCree makes a move toward his hip, Guzma moves. Like a loosed coil, he springs forward, jerking the shovel from the ground and lifting it up into both arms. The spade makes an arc as he swing it upwards, spraying flecks of grass and dirt around him as it's so violently torn from its place in the ground. He's aiming for the man's head, to knock him as hard as he possibly can. And, of course, he won't stop there. If he hits the first time, he'll take another swing as him. Pivot on his heel and round on the cowboy again, like a some sort of crazed batter.

Ninety-nine problems...






And you won't be one.]