epidemiology | EVENT ★ GILLIGAN'S ISLAND

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EVENT ★ GILLIGAN'S ISLAND

MAROONED

Three days after the eruptions wrecked their havoc, a storm begins. It's not so different from the storm the recruits first encountered upon arrival, but this storm seems oddly and peculiarly driven. In some places of the islands it's nothing but pattering rain, but in other places it's strong enough to lift a fully grown human off his or her feet. And that's just what it does. It sweeps up recruits here and there -- not all of them, and there is no apparent method to who it takes and who it leaves. Some stay on the Nalawi islands, some are simply swept up into the sky. Here and there the storm grabs a Nalawi as well, but these victims are always dropped again. Sometimes out over the water, sometimes crashing down into land. They do not generally survive this.

The recruits stolen by the storm aren't aloft for long. They emerge eventually from the tumbling, buffeting, blinding winds, spewed out onto the beach of a strange new island. This island, to anyone paying any attention to their surroundings, is a recent addition to the surface of the ocean. In fact, flying in the face of physics and statistical likelihood (much in the way the storm had), it seems to have recently been on the seafloor.

This island was clearly once inhabited, although it's been a long, long time since then. Uniform structures can be found arranged in streets and avenues, now all thoroughly caked in barnacles, coral, seaweed, and other assorted debris of the sea. Here and there can even be found dead fish, suffocated when the water began to drain away and turn to open air. Most of them are horrifying, the things that tend to keep to the dark depths of the water. Toward the center of this empty, silent, sea-claimed city a giant sea serpent threads around and through several buildings. It's just as dead as the rest of them, its huge, pale eyes staring at nothing.

There are a few things here that aren't quite dead, though. Sometimes something armored, dull red, and hungry crawls out of some dark place. These creatures can't really be compared to anything on the surface, but they are each about the length of a human, with three sets of sharpened limbs held up off the ground, used for stabbing forward to pierce its prey, and one set of pinchers below that. The pinchers might anchor prey in place for easier stabbing, but they also create a tiny sonic boom when clacked. Standing too close to this can leave you dazed and momentarily helpless. These creatures aren't fazed by the lack of water around them, they're just hungry and ready to feed on anything nearby -- even each other. The danger they present to recruits is at least slightly mitigated by an unknown force, though. If a recruit finds themselves unable to handle one of the creatures or overwhelmed by it, the storm itself will lash out at the thing. This isn't a very precise defense, but it is generally enough to pick up one or both of the contestants and separate them.

Nothing here looks anything like what can be found on the Nalawi islands, except perhaps the flora. It's difficult to tell. What trees have been left are waterlogged, petrified mockeries, it's unclear what they may have looked like while this island still lived. The buildings are all very inorganic, made of processed material and with the obvious aid of machinery. Whoever lived here was actually very proficient with machinery, it seems. Within the buildings, some residential and some commercial, can be found the rusted, now-useless remains of a technologically advanced society. Personal belongings can also be found, waterlogged and largely ruined, and all in an upset as if they had gone through frequent and destructive earthquakes. Still, they can tell the story of mundane, day-to-day lives here for anyone who cares to look.

Food is going to be a little tricky to come by unless you're a fan of seafood; fishing will be possible for anyone who opts to brave the edge of the storm, and of course there are the bizarre delicacies so thoughtfully raised up from the seafloor, dead among the streets and buildings. Recruits would do well to be careful with those, though. There is a particular kind of seaweed that, while it looks perfectly innocuous, will cause vivid hallucinations an hour after ingesting, for 10 minutes to three hours, depending on how much was ingested.

Above all else, though, is the eerie silence. The storm rages on, but although it completely surrounds the island, it keeps to the perimeter. Even the rain stays off of the island, though the sun is obscured by the heavy, ominous clouds. Thunder rumbles now and then, punctuated by lightning flashes, but there isn't a single sound on this gray, dreary, dead island that wasn't made by an ALASTAIR recruit.

OOC INFO

Recruits will ICly be here for one week, and OOCly the log will last for two. The storm will prevent any travel off of the island. Should anyone feel brave enough to try risking a trip into it, they will find it still possesses that ability to literally sweep recruits off their feet. It might also be due to this mysterious storm that no one on the island can seem to reach out to anyone on the Nalawi islands via jewelry network, nor to any of the NPC recruits they'd met at Oska.

Players who signed up for plot slots will be receiving additional information, which we ask they share with the rest of the characters. You may sign up here for information that can be found while exploring the island, as well. Please direct any questions to the OOC write up.

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[Don't be jealous of Rick's ability to get stoned in any situation, Rhys. He works hard for this distinction.

Rick makes no motion to hide his dank seaweed blunt, just pauses and gives a little cough of iodine smoke. He is a mess. Welcome to Rick Town.]

Is that a real question? [HAHA by which he means yes, obviously.] I-I'm busy, what do you need?

Yeah, clearly, sorry for interrupting your super important business with my actual problems.

[ He's already regretting this, somewhat terrified of letting Rick anywhere near his cybernetics now that he sees him, looking even more of a mess than he had before. And before, he'd been surrounded by little deer-beer shots. It's hard to get worse than that.

But Rick is pretty much the only other person who knows what a computer is, so. ]

Do you have, I don't know, tools or parts or something? [ He gestures to his arm. ] I've got some water damage.

[ Do not tell him to put it in a bowl of rice THAT DOESN'T WORK ]

[Your actual problems are dumb, Rhys, and Rick makes a face that suggests as such. He does glance down at the robo-arm, though, brow knitting like he didn't actually notice how limp it was until Rhys actually pointed it out. Which he didn't. Maybe Rhys's problems aren't dumb.]

Y-yeah, I can probably, uh... yeah. [He takes a second to get up, visibly unsteady, then kicks some of this scrap metal around.] There's enough shit in here that I can do it, no problem.

[Rick reaches inside his lab coat to pull out some pliers and a few screwdrivers, so -- there's the tools part. He's not asking about money, which is unusual. This might be Rhys's lucky day.]

Oh, what, do you mean, like, right now?

[ He grimaces a little. Beggars can't be choosers, but. He wouldn't choose this. JUST SAYING. ]

I'm not saying don't do it, I'm just questioning your technological capabilities when you're high. I mean, I kind of need this arm, so... don't mess it up.

[Don't mess it up. Don't mess it up! Rick starts to make a noise like he's offended, but instead he just winds up doubled over, hacking. He waves this fistful of tools as if to say, like, this doesn't count. Ignore this is happening.]

I'm compl--urgh-- completely fine. Y-you heard of the Chantes mission, right? The whole "machine that brought the sun back" thing? [He twirls a screwdriver in his hand. Despite how unsteady he is, his hands are surprisingly deft.] I built that fuckin' thing drunk off my ass on mead. Or whatever.

[He stops playing Harlem Globetrotters with hand tools and points at a convenient tree stump instead.]

Sit down before I change my m-mind.

Edited (NO) 2016-05-26 04:10 (UTC)

You built that?

[ Rhys sits down quickly, poised like he's about to listen to Grandpa tell a story with his chin in his hands before he remembers himself. It's impressive, and he can't help having a little admiration for Rick. Rick's talents, anyway, not his weird, old demeanor and ugly clothes. ]

I can't believe you built that. [ It sounds a bit insulting, but he follows it up with ] That. Is. Awesome. Okay, I totally entrust you with my arm.

[ senpaiiiii ]

[I mean, Rick's not about to complain that someone is finally giving him the admiration he deserves. Everyone else bitched about it at the time, which, you know. Was not super nice, considering.]

It is awesome. G-genius is overlooked here, kid. Fuckin' tragedy. [By 'here,' he means 'among these people,' of course. The Nalawi don't really care about science either, but that's not the point.

Anyway, that was easy enough to convince him. If only everyone else on this stupid team listened so quickly.

Rick sits down too, yanking Rhys over by the robo-arm maybe a little aggressively. His bedside manner could probably use some work, but whatevs.] Okay, what're we working with here...

[ He rattles off some dumb statistics about the make and model, the year it was made, blah blah blah blah blah. ]

Pretty standard stuff, but it's, uh. [ A pause; he worries his lip as he thinks of how to word it. ] There's some important software running through my system, so just. Be aware of that.

[ Again, DON'T FUCK IT UP. He trusts Rick's tech prowess now, but he's gotta cover his bases. ]

Not that I'm doubting your abilities or anything, you should definitely still do it, 'cause doing everything with one arm is already getting old.

[Important software, huh. That's not suspicious or anything, but luckily Rick has been hit on the head hard enough where he just kinda lets it go, shrugging. Especially after that technical crap that usually he would be all up ons, except Rhys is apparently from some weird dimension where none of the technical crap uses the normal terms. Where are your quantum resonators, Rhys?]

R-right. Right. Nooo problem.

[Still, tech is tech, and he makes short work of finding a hatch, opening it, and getting to work fiddling with the insides.]

Tell me if this, uh... stings? I don't know, whatever. [Pausing, he jerks his head toward some of these godawful seaweed blunts. There's like a pile of them. He's been busy.] You want a hit?

[ Tell me if this, uh... stings? I don't know, whatever. Rhys looks mildly horrified. No part of this is supposed to sting. He starts to wonder if Rick's technology is too different from his, if he should have just attempted to fix it one-handed, but there he is, already getting to work. So, he figures he'll just let it happen and regret it later if need be.

Flatly: ] Do— Do I want a hit.

[ The answer is no. One of them should probably not be stoned for this. ]

How many of those do you even have? Don't tell me you've been spending your entire time here making blunts. Oh god, you've been spending your entire time here making blunts, haven't you.

[Rick has his hands literally inside Rhys's arm right now, so it's probably not a very good sign when Rick's head snaps up, wild-eyed with suspicion.]

W-what, are you a fucking narc? [He twists something inside Rhys's arm. That might actually sting.] Keep your comments to yourself. Try to be hospitable around here, jesus...

[ there's like a 99 percent chance he was a narc in school for that some of that SWEET ADULT ACCEPTANCE AND VALIDATION

But he isn't being one right now. ]

—Who would I even tell.

[ It's not like they have deer weed police. Probably. Besides, he figures it isn't a good idea to antagonize a guy who currently has his hands all up in Rhys's shit. ]

No, I'm just asking, you know, making conversation? It's a thing people do sometimes.

[Rick does not accept this right away, because... and let me reiterate this as many times as I can... he is an absolute crazy person. Just super, extra nuts.] Uh-huh.

[He holds this suspicious, aggressive look for a second before going back to messing around. Inside Rhys.]

Not the whole time.

[ Rhys is less happy about having this old man inside him after that look. He scrunches up his face and frowns, then looks away so he doesn't have to see Rick's crazynuts facial expression. ]

So... most of the time, is what you mean.

[ He's brilliant, but useless. A genius who's probably going to be passed out in a puddle of his own drool later. ]

Shouldn't you be focusing on building us some— jetpacks, or... I don't know, something? I don't wanna die out here, I am so tired of almost dying, I've still got a lot of stuff left to do.

[ Like telling Fiona she's a dick. ]

You don't want to die -- you're such a pussy, Reeze. Rice. Whatever your stupid name is.

[Rick is suddenly soldering something inside Rhys's arm. Where did he get the soldering gun? Never mind. He belches loudly, then snaps the compartment on Rhys's arm shut, leaning back to take a big, gross drag off this disgusting blunt.

He is holding his breath as he speaks.] Try it out.

[ Internal screaming ]

Wh— It's Rhys. Rhys! Who would name their kid Rice?

[ Oh, he'll try it out!! He slaps the blunt out of Rick's hands with badassery the likes of which haven't been seen since the days of Sparta. Or tries to, anyway. He's so shit at anything requiring hand-eye coordination that his arm just sort of flails around in the general direction of it. It looks more like he's aggressively trying to hold Rick's hand than do anything cool. ]

Oops. Looks like it's still acting up a little. My bad. Good job, though.

[Who would name their kid Reese? Reeze? He's still not getting it, but it also stops being important after that... super athletic display.

Rick affects a flat expression, blowing horrible iodine smoke in Rhys's face.]

Thanks. [He gets up, waving his hand a little over his shoulder as he ambles over to the scrap metal pile he was poking at before. He grabs some kind of shitty metal pipe and tosses it underhand at Rhys. (He is pretty goddamn certain he's not going to catch it but that's kind of the point.)]

Hooked you up with a primo attachment, too. Try to cut that.

[ No, he doesn't catch it. It clatters to the ground. ]

Don't throw things, we don't throw things here! [ As he reaches down to pick it up, he mumbles, ] You're at least supposed to say go long or something. Just a little warning! That's all I'm asking for.

[ He holds the pipe up in front of his face, inspecting it. ] Aaaannnd why am I trying to cut a random gross, crappy pipe?

Oh my g -- because I said so, that's why. Just -- [Rick makes a vague karate chop action. These are very clear instructions.]

What is that supposed to be, why am I karate chopping it— oh, my god. Fine.

[ KARATE CHOP. this is a very detailed tag ]

[DON'T QUESTION IT, RICE. When he finally does the thing, thanks to Rick's technical genius, Rhys's hand should basically just flip open Transformers style and reform into like a sickle-shaped thing, which might be cool and impressive except that on further inspection it is literally just a giant can opener. You can probably hurt someone with it if you really tried, but... you know, they'd have to stand still. And be patient.

It can open that pipe pretty easily, though.

Rick just throws his hands in the air like this is a great success.] Yooooo, it worked.

[ Rhys grins, feeling very badass. If you think about it — but not too hard — he basically karate-chopped a pipe in half. ]

Oh, awesome, it's a—

[ He turns his hand around, inspecting it. Furrowing his brow, he moves it closer and squints. There's a long pause. ]

...Goddammit, this is a can opener.

W-well, duh-doy, it's a can opener. Multiple applications! [He starts smacking Rhys's can opener arm emphatically.] Think about it, dude, if we get stuck someplace with, like... can people... you'll be a fuckin' hero. Or if we just need a can opener! Y'know!

[He leans back, taking a drag from the iodine blunt. Holding his breath:] Also y-you'd probably kill yourself if I gave you something, uh, deadly. [Exhale.] You're welcome, be a little more grateful, Ritz.

Edited 2016-06-22 06:23 (UTC)

What the— I'm not a cracker. [ WELL it depends on the definition you use BUT in the dictionary definition... ] Rhys! My name is Rhys!

[ He crosses his arms, tapping his foot impatiently. ]

I'm not being more grateful until you say my name right.

[Rick's response is just a deadpan fucking stare, because that is so dumb he can't even come up with a sarcastic response.]

Are you twelve? It's not my fault your name is idiotic, get mad at your dumb parents. Secondly, I giveth and taketh away w-whenever I want, so watch it or you'll wake up with an arm made of tinsel.

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dbag - 2016-06-25 00:52 (UTC) - Expand

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