lifeaftr | May Adventure: I Want to Go Where Everyone Goes

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May Adventure: I Want to Go Where Everyone Goes

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 )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Now that makes her bark out a laugh, a grin on her lips.]

'Course I am. But I wanna drink something good if I have the choice. This is terrible. If I'm not paying for it I want top shelf, y'know?

[She turns the bottle of wine she grabbed around, trying to find a year or label and failing to find any of it. For all she knows she just swigged vinegar. Whoops. She sets it to the side and sits up, slinging a small backpack off of her back and sliding out a half-full wineskin.]

Here. You wanna try something really killer, drink some of this. Don't take all of it though.

[She'll offer it out to him, eyebrow raised like it's some sort of challenge, when it's... well, it's wine. Really fucking good wine, though, an incredibly smooth red without a deep sting, something that feels like it'd make steak taste like butter if wine pairings weren't ultimately bullshit.]

Do I wanna know what this is?

[He probably does. It's probably not poisoned. The paranoia that had him suspecting anything that he didn't handle himself has been tempered, if only slightly, by the taste of spiced rum on his tongue and the general exhaustion that's come from the simple fact that nothing's actually managed to keep him down yet. Not permanently.]

More importantly, is it actually meant to be consumed?

[She just gives him the most flat expression.]

If I wanted to fucking kill you, do you honestly think I would've waited this long and done it with poison? Seriously?

[Beau knows people are bad at reading her and that's on purpose with her general demeanor, but come on.]

If I was gonna kick your ass I'd have done it already. Take the gift or I'm taking it back, fuck.

[She grumbles something about a "Fjord" and "telling her to give nice gestures" and "it'll pay off" but it's largely obscured.]

I didn't ask if it was poison. I asked if it was meant to be consumed. You can drink anything if you're determined enough.

[It could be alcohol or gasoline, for all he knows. Though, considering Beau's familiarity with technology...maybe not gasoline. Nonetheless, he accepts the wineskin and takes a moment to smell at its contents.]

[Nope. Smells alcoholic. Smells like wine.]

...thanks.

[He'll chance a swig. Sure.]

Not anything.

[She can think of plenty of things you can't drink. How do you drink a boat Wash?? Fucking checkmate.

But she lets him take a drink, and good news- it's wine! Really good wine. There's no burn, smooth and crisp despite not being chilled. The deep red is probably the one time Beau can definitively say why wine tastes better with age.

She grins at him, a raised eyebrow.]

Now that's the good shit, right?

[It's better than what he was drinking - or, at least, more to his taste. He lets the taste sit at the back of his throat for a minute before swallowing and blinking at the wineskin in evident surprise. Clearly, he wasn't expecting it to be actually...good.]

Yeah. Wow. What is this?

[Wine, clearly, but it's well-made, whoever's responsible.]

'Ss wine. My wine.

[Not... hers, exactly, really. She's shared precious little of her past with anyone here except for the Nein, but... sometimes that's just how it is. She can let it flow organically a little more.]

Well, my family's wine. From where I grew up. Took some of it with me when I left. Not really for nostalgia, just because it's real fuckin' good. Only good thing about that place.

So when it runs out...what? That's it?

[And she's wasting it on him? Not that he's not grateful, but it seems like something you shouldn't just hand out to anybody. And that's what he is, isn't he? Just...anybody?]

[He doesn't ask her in so many words, but maybe something about the frown and his searching look suggests that the question is on his mind.]

Guess so.

[She figures it's on his mind. She'd be thinking about it too, under the circumstances. Maybe that makes it sound special, but mostly it's just a resource.]

There's always gonna be more wine. And I wouldn't want to give those bastards the satisfaction of making me think about them. Probably the best fuck you I have to give it away for free after everything that happened.

Not a big fan of the old family, I take it.

[The child she was carried a few hints in that direction, angry and practically elated to discover someone with bruises and scars that suggested he'd just been in a fight. Not that he was about to assume this was the case without a little more prompting.]

[That right there is about all the prompting he needs, though.]

[She snorts, a bitter sort of grin on her face as she takes the wineskin for herself and downs a mouthful.]

Nah. Dad always wanted a kid he didn't have and had me kidnapped to try and straighten me out. Haven't seen him since.

[Because they told her, almost precisely, that they never wanted to see her again. It's only been on her mind recently when Fjord pressed it out of her when she was home two or three months ago, but it's gone on the backburner here when there's just nothing to be done about it.]

So they're assholes. Basically.

Um, okay.

[Kidnapped is a bit much, but he's a soldier. He knows, from the lives of the people he was surrounded by, that not all the scar tissue that soldiers earn is from the frontlines.]

[The result is someone who wants to be sympathetic but doesn't entirely know how thanks to a wholesale muting of most of his emotional spectrum out of self-defense, and furthermore doesn't entirely trust his capacity to be all that sympathetic. Or whether or not she even wants sympathy.]

Good winemakers, not good parents. Guess you can't have everything.

[See this is the problem with Beau- her words are jokey, her information on herself so cagey, that people rarely take her at face value when she's actually telling the truth. This was no rich kid shipped off to boarding school; this was a break in in the middle of the night, beaten until she couldn't stand, hands and legs tied before she was knocked out and taken away. She's bitter insofar that she's bitter about everything-- but Beau doesn't need him crying over her. They were dicks. At least someone should know.]

Yeah, basically. They were dicks and I sure as hell don't have an intention of seeing them again. Hell, here is a better place sometimes because they fuckin' can't even if they wanted to.

[She hasn't devoted time to thinking about what would happen if they did. She'll burn that bridge when she gets to it.]

Didn't look like your childhood went smoothly either, if my previous interaction with glass boy means anything.

[Glass boy. He's had worse nicknames. The corners of his mouth tighten slightly, and he looks away.]

That was my own fault. I picked a fight with someone way after he thought we'd already buried the hatchet.

["Picked a fight" isn't the best word for it. It was a massacre. He took Cecil entirely by surprise, and there was no one in that bathroom to verify whether the story was true or not - that Cecil was the initiator. That David acted in self-defense against his old bully.]

[It wasn't. He was just that angry.]

I wouldn't call here "preferable," though.

Eeh, I don't care why you did it. I fought a lot of kids before. Just not then.

[She hadn't quite hardened enough, back then, to take the leap into a real escape. Even after all that, the fighting came later; she started just by winking extra bottles into suppliers she liked, who would trade her favors or food, and it just kind of... went. It sounds like he had a harder go of it from a younger age, but from what she knows, a lot of people did.]

I'd still like to get back, I think. But I've got people here. Most of my team. If the rest of them turn up, I don't really care where we are. This place is about as dangerous as any other place we're going.

[It's not the team he's worried about. Only it is, actually. He doesn't worry about them - it's just that they're...home, now. He doesn't want to be anywhere else, without them.]

That'd be your decision. Hypothetically. I don't think homecomings are on the table.

[So why worry?]

Yeah, I figure as much. Couple more and I'll have everyone I need.

[She's down Caleb, Nott, Caduceus, and Fjord-- at least, when this conversation is happening. Part of her wants Dairon to arrive too, to be able to meet her mentor in a place where she holds the expertise for once. She misses being challenged on a level that wasn't patronizing in some way. Otherwise... there isn't many others to miss. Keg, maybe, but that might just be complicated.

Nah, she's just fine. Once she's up her cow man, hobo wizard, and goblin girl (again) they'll be good to go.]

You got a lot of people you're missing now? Anyone to look out for?

Yeah. I guess you could say that.

[Would he want them to end up here, though? That's a selfish thought. They're happy where they are, probably. They get a vacation island, a chance to relax, free of civil wars or classified government projects or murderous A.I. trying to kill them. They get a break.]

If anyone from home does show up, they'll be wearing armor like mine. But you...probably guessed that already.

[Without knowing the context that Wash is thinking about, his words just make her snort.]

Oh yeah, I was figuring that. Asked around some. It's got a unique design. Your armor, I mean, I don't know much about that kind but it's pretty distinctive.

[Mmmm now she's curious though, and Beau is very good at picking into things.]

Any names to be on the lookout for? Good or bad, but say which.

State names will be most recognizable.

[...or they would, if that was a thing in her world. He...doubts it.]

Forget that.

Connecticut might. Goes by C.T. Brown armor, but with a demo-config - [...and again, that probably means nothing to her.] - and by that, I mean that it'll look different, but it'll still look like armor. Carolina, too - turquoise armor, tends to stand out.

There were here before, so I...

[Hope to see them again. Someday.]

Might be more likely they shows up. They're friends of mine.

[There's a hot second where he'll see something on her face that probably communicates that she has no fucking idea what he just said. Thankfully, Wash thinks much like her in realizing her words make no sense sometimes and clarifies.]

CT, wasn't that the one you were looking for a while back? When everyone was hallucinating.

[Beau never found her, in the end. But she mentally records both descriptions.]

I'll look out, though. Just started asking most of the armor guys. They're pretty chill on the while, or nobody's attacked me or anything. It works.

...yeah.

[Back when she was here. Back when she - when he thought he had a chance to save her. Not that he could. Not from Freelancer, not from Varric, not from the tides that took her home. Not from anything.]

[Yeah. He failed her just about on every level it was possible to fail someone, and that's just fine.]

Yeah, you attacked me when we first met. Not the other way around.

Yeah?

[She's not saying he's violent. She's just a mess and kind of knows it.]

Just because you don't shoot on sight doesn't mean everyone from your world wouldn't. And I'm not attacking them, just to be totally clear.

[There was a time when he did shoot on sight, without thinking. He prefers not to dwell on the thought of who he was - the person who could easily put a bullet where it needed to go, requiring no further reason than the fact that someone might be in the way.]

They wouldn't - [...all right, actually, that's a legitimate concern.] Fine, Sarge might. But his aim's pretty shitty when he's startled.

[Oh, that's a feeling she knows. It's only recently that violence wasn't her go-to for any problems. If she had ended up in that path, had more diligence, she would've been a great marksman.

She's still killed a lot of people that happened to be in the way. It's just like that, sometimes.

Beau snorts at his commentary, though.]

I think I can get out of the way. But good to know if any of 'em start shooting at me they're not your friends and I should get the hell out of the way. But y'know. Here's to the hope of only the dickheads we like making an appearance, huh?

May Adventure: I Want to Go Where Everyone Goes

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