May Adventure: I Want to Go Where Everyone Goes

[lifeaftr_mods]

NEW ISLAND: IO

Who: Everyone!
What: Io appears!
When: May 10th and onward
Where: Io
Warnings: The possibility of drug use and alcohol may come up. Otherwise, tag as you go!

Things Are Shaping Up to Be Pretty Odd
As of May 10th, the mana pools on Ensō and its islets will now allow for travel to Io. Though you could always opt for sailing, if you wanted. As we mentioned on the island's introductory post, no exploration is necessary! The island is small enough and easily traversed, and with a minimum of dangers, you have plenty of time to visit each of Io's six draws.

The temple is the easiest place to get in touch with the local avatar, though you can contact them just as easily by striking up a conversation with just about any honeybee you see in the vicinity. The lazy drone of them can be heard all over the island, though they're quite complacent, and not at all prone to disturbing adventurers. The temple itself is twined with grapevines and smothered with inlays of rubies, proud and sparkling. Inside, it smells of honey and wine, and seems to exhibit a naturally contented glow. Just outside, numerous fruit trees sprout all about the temple's courtyard, to be sampled at your leisure.

The bathhouses are located just south of the temple, and are prime locations for some rest and relaxation. Bathe, swim, take a spa day! There are innumerable rooms to do exactly that, and more space than be reasonably filled by some sixty-or-seventy people. Or maybe you're interested in getting absolutely sloshed instead. The vineyard is perfect for that, located to Io's northeast on one of its long, tapering peninsulas. Rows upon rows of grapevines lead up to the crown jewel of the region: a proud winery with enough goods to satisfy even the most parched.

For those less keen on mind-altering substances, the tea gardens are a far safer bet. They practically emanate tranquility, with their soft paper lanterns, thickets of tea trees, and a tea room with a seemingly endless supply of every supplement to your drink that you could ask for. And if none of the teabags or tea leaves in there suit your preference, you're free to wander about the gardens yourself and sample whatever you like.

The Honeycomb at the island's heart is much more akin to a play structure or jungle gym than anything else, but its interlocking passageways and erratic, hexagonal architecture aren't for nothing. It's an ideal spot for play or exercise, if you're into that kind of thing - or for getting positively sick on honey sticks.

The campsites ensure that you don't truly have to depart from Io, if you don't want to. Tents full of chairs and cushions and blankets make it a wonderful place to spend the night if you're so inclined, and the lockers full of food and drink are assurances that you won't go hungry. And with all these massive bonfires and firework cannons, why would you ever want to leave?

---

Welcome to the island of Io! Please, enjoy your stay and make full use of this island's many faculties! For further information in regards to the island, or plotting, the following links may prove handy:

[ ♆ ] OOC info and introductory post
[ ♆ ] Io on the Locations page

---

LOGS ● OOC ● STORIES ● MAIN NAVIGATION

( CODED BY BOOTYCALL )

Comments

[forwearemany]

It also harms you.

(Hurting onesepf to avoid problems does not seem like rationel, responsible, or wise behavior.)

[counterblows]

Not short-term. [Not really.]

Not unless I'm risking alcohol poisoning by over-drinking, which I won't be, because I'm not that far gone. Long-term, sure, it'll wreck your liver, but I've had worse anyway.

[forwearemany]

Hangover?

(That's a short term, if temporary, form of harm.)

Nature of distress?

[counterblows]

Nothing most people can't handle.

[Wash included. Hangover's nothing compared to the feeling of broken glass in his hair, digging into his skin.]

Got to remember a few things that I'd rather forget. From a couple weeks back, when we all got to be young again?

[forwearemany]

Affirmative.

(They stare at him. Waiting to see if he will continue.)

[counterblows]

Brought up some memories.

[He starts digging into the cork on the bottle of spiced rum until he's able to pry it out from the neck and set it down on the nearest table.]

I'm a little bit tired of those at the moment.

[forwearemany]

Acknowledged.

You do not wish to speak of it?

(Just confirming. Since it's pretty clear he doesn't.)

[counterblows]

Not in specifics. Don't think we ran into each other when everyone was getting their ages fucked around with, did we?

[Just checking. He's pretty sure he remembers everyone he ran into, but it pays to make sure.]

[forwearemany]

We did.

You have forgotten?

(Headtilt. Concern, confusion.)

[counterblows]

I've got a lot of memories in my head. It pays to keep them straight sometimes.

[More memories than one person's meant to have. More than one specialized military operative is meant to have.]

[forwearemany]

...Acknowledged.

You are experiencing difficulties?

(If so, they wonder if drinking will worsen them.

They will not prevent him for doing so, but they are concerned.)

[counterblows]

Little bit, yeah. It's pretty standard. It'll pass, eventually.

[Arguably, setting about trying to de-organize this mess in his head by drinking is just going to make it worse, but hey - no one needs to know that.]

[forwearemany]

...Acknowledged.

(Their own knowledge of this topic is limited: they cannot offer assistance.)

[counterblows]

[A shrug. He doesn't need a drinking buddy, just now, which is good, since Legion can't drink. Instead he settles for taking a swig of some of that spiced rum and making a face.]

...mm. Forgot how this stuff tastes.

[forwearemany]

...Mixing?

(That's a thing organics do with alcohol, right?)

[counterblows]

Maybe, yeah.

[But he's not drinking this for the taste. Like most things, this is being done for the memory of it.]

Friend of mine used to...he'd say he wanted to settle down and just make spiced rum, the rest of his life. Sit on an island chain with a red sailboat.

Guess I'm living his dream right now.

[forwearemany]

Acknowledged.

(They chatter a bit, confused and uncertain.)

[counterblows]

[He takes a long draught, enough for it to start burning at the back of his throat. Doesn't water his eyes just yet, but he swallows and wipes his mouth with the back of his wrist, leaves a glistening trail on the freckles and scar tissue.]

Can't say I agree with his taste.

[He takes another drink anyway.]

[forwearemany]

Acknowledged.

(They headtilt.)

We do not experience taste.

(Nor understand it as much as they thought they did, since apparently organics will consume things that taste bad to them after all.)

[counterblows]

Well, you're not missing out.

[Again, another drink.]

Not on this stuff, anyway. The drunker you are, the better it tastes.

[forwearemany]

...Acknowledged.

(They suppose that explains some of the motive for getting drunk, but why start drinking it in the first place?)

[counterblows]

[He sets the bottle down, rubs a hand up through his hair and over his face.]

Yeah, this was a bad idea.

[forwearemany]

Yes.

(Stated bluntly. This is a terrible idea.)

However, we will not stop you.

[counterblows]

[Wash snorts, softly.]

You'd make a great designated driver. You can't get drunk, and you're probably stronger than any drunk who gets violent.

[forwearemany]

It is likely.

(Unless, of course, the drunks in question are powerful biotics or krogan.

Not that Wash is aware of either of those.)