Glitch (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
aintnoconvict) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
taxonomites2012-06-25 11:27 am
aintnoconvict) wrote in taxonomites2012-06-25 11:27 am
052 [text | location: around the island] on the shore just long enough to leave our clothes there
Glitch is so very happy to be back on land where he's 100% less useless. Sure it's not the city (or home) but it's better than being on that miserable boat.
In the jungle (the mighty jungle) there is a large hamster idol carved from limestone. It sits up on its haunches and smiles a benevolent hamster smile, and atop its head is a floral headdress. More interestingly: its right paw is definitely a hatch touchpad, and it holds in its left paw the traditional hatch replicator box thing.
Glitch stares at it dubiously, then slaps his hand down and thinks desperately of toothpaste. The box produces a bottle of rum, which gets tucked into the satchel he's fashioned from the sleeves of his giant white pirate shirt. He tries again, this time thinking of ball-peen (...wait, who even came up with that name?) hammer and some nails. The hatch responds with directions for making a shelter with palm fronds and vines.
After some trial and error (and another bottle of rum and some paper umbrellas), the hatch does produce useful things like a length of insulated copper wire, a Hawaiian print shirt and some Bermuda shorts, a pair of pliers, and sunscreen.
"...well, it's a start," Glitch mutters, then hauls everything back to the shady spot he's claimed a little ways from the beach. There he lays the pliers and wire down beside the metal-containing ship debris that had washed up, and set about composing a text to everyone.
That done, he heads back into the jungle for his daily swim. The island is fortunately riddled with cenotes to provide drinking water and places to cool off without getting saltwater sticky. Glitch has found a favorite with a good mix of shade and sun, water crystal clear and deep enough for diving, and just secluded enough that he can get away with skinny dipping.
That last bit is likely inaccurate.
OOC: Oh hey it's another huge note! WELCOME TO THE ISLAND enjoy your naked headcase. He will be out there every day, so go bug him or join in and fret not about continuity. Or bump into him anywhere, godmoding of that nature is go. TABLET FOLKS: there is going to be so much handwaving with this plot I can't even tell you. To the point of "let's congratulate ourselves on how awesome our geniuses and electric lady are" and moving on with end results.
This post can also be used as a log post for non-Glitch related hijinks like setting up shelters, building rafts, and other mingling.
DETAILS ON THE TEMPLE: Think Temple of Doom meets Legends of the Hidden Temple meets The Mummy. There are 100% godmodey deathtraps, the nature and degree of dangerousness is totally up to you. There are also treasures...also godmodey, but a chest stuffed with toiletries is definitely in there somewhere.
DID GLITCH HEAR DRUMMING: Yes. Yes he did, and your folks may have too. ~Details to come~.
In the jungle (the mighty jungle) there is a large hamster idol carved from limestone. It sits up on its haunches and smiles a benevolent hamster smile, and atop its head is a floral headdress. More interestingly: its right paw is definitely a hatch touchpad, and it holds in its left paw the traditional hatch replicator box thing.
Glitch stares at it dubiously, then slaps his hand down and thinks desperately of toothpaste. The box produces a bottle of rum, which gets tucked into the satchel he's fashioned from the sleeves of his giant white pirate shirt. He tries again, this time thinking of ball-peen (...wait, who even came up with that name?) hammer and some nails. The hatch responds with directions for making a shelter with palm fronds and vines.
After some trial and error (and another bottle of rum and some paper umbrellas), the hatch does produce useful things like a length of insulated copper wire, a Hawaiian print shirt and some Bermuda shorts, a pair of pliers, and sunscreen.
"...well, it's a start," Glitch mutters, then hauls everything back to the shady spot he's claimed a little ways from the beach. There he lays the pliers and wire down beside the metal-containing ship debris that had washed up, and set about composing a text to everyone.
NOTES:
- Found a hatch, marked approx. location on map. Temperamental but will give useful stuff (!SUNSCREEN!) plus random items.
- The temple: have not explored, not sure if safe, be careful if you check it out. Do not go alone.
- Swear I heard drumming last night. Might be delusional.
TO DO:
- Work w/tablets. Have more tools & materials now. Power boost? Antenna? Help appreciated.
- Go back to ship for supplies: sailcloth, rope, anything useful. Build raft for this? Volunteers? (Not it!)
- Build hammock.
That done, he heads back into the jungle for his daily swim. The island is fortunately riddled with cenotes to provide drinking water and places to cool off without getting saltwater sticky. Glitch has found a favorite with a good mix of shade and sun, water crystal clear and deep enough for diving, and just secluded enough that he can get away with skinny dipping.
That last bit is likely inaccurate.
OOC: Oh hey it's another huge note! WELCOME TO THE ISLAND enjoy your naked headcase. He will be out there every day, so go bug him or join in and fret not about continuity. Or bump into him anywhere, godmoding of that nature is go. TABLET FOLKS: there is going to be so much handwaving with this plot I can't even tell you. To the point of "let's congratulate ourselves on how awesome our geniuses and electric lady are" and moving on with end results.
This post can also be used as a log post for non-Glitch related hijinks like setting up shelters, building rafts, and other mingling.
DETAILS ON THE TEMPLE: Think Temple of Doom meets Legends of the Hidden Temple meets The Mummy. There are 100% godmodey deathtraps, the nature and degree of dangerousness is totally up to you. There are also treasures...also godmodey, but a chest stuffed with toiletries is definitely in there somewhere.
DID GLITCH HEAR DRUMMING: Yes. Yes he did, and your folks may have too. ~Details to come~.
no subject
"Sure," he says with a smile that's only slightly strained. "I don't look it, but I read a lot."
One quick glance at the blood - just a little bit more. Don't get greedy, but just a little bit more and he'll be fine.
He turns away again, listening to the steady beat of Long's heart and using it as an aural measuring cup.
"I don't know. It's one of the most accepting places I've ever been. I must've done something right to get to experience that."
no subject
Like he could talk anyway.Long's heartbeat is steady, steady and strong. As far as people who can take some blood loss and be fine, Mayland Long seems to be a good choice so far.
"What, Taxon? No, Taxon is not... it is a mixed blessing and a curse, but I was thinking more of our respective.... identities. What you have done in a past life to be... what you are, and I what I am. It begs the question."
Long's eyes wander back to the blood leaving his body, intrigued again. It looks black rather than red in the moonlight.
"What does blood taste like to you, if this is not too tactless a question for me to ask?"
no subject
Dark, fragrant, spicy...
"It's okay. Inquisitive minds, and so on."
He gets the same little wad of already soaked fabric, counts down the last few beats before pressing it to the entry wound, carefully pulling the needle out.
Can't take too much, never too much, already too much to ask. "It's difficult to describe. It's like..." He breathes deep, eyes transfixed on the dark blood - one hand keeping the needle steady so as not to lose a drop, the other pressing the cloth to the wound.
"Bend your arm, let that stay in place until you stop bleeding."
It's a bit difficult to focus on conversation right now.
no subject
"That is all?" he says in faint surprise. Not that he's complaining, exactly, but he expected, he supposes, a more horrifying experience. Or more blood taken. Ah well.
He flexes the fingers of the donating arm; makes an experimental fist with that hand. His grip still feels strong and sure to himself. Long shrugs, and gets to his feet, probably before any well-meant warnings on dizziness can be given.
But he isn't dizzy, so.
"I suppose you would probably prefer to be left in peace with your. Ah. Breakfast?" Long asks politely, watching the way St. John's eyes are fixated on the blood.
no subject
Protip: Don't go near a starving vampire's food.Then he blinks, lungs moving in a mimicry of stuttered breath. "Yeah. Please. Please?"
no subject
--but St. John masters himself, a shuddering exhale, short words.
Long nods. This is not the time for speech; even he can tell that much.
He takes several steps back from St. John, not turning his back to him until there is a more comfortable lead between them. It seems merely prudent.
"I am sure I will see you about, Mr. St. John," he murmurs, and pads off barefoot into the jungle, not waiting for an answer under the circumstances.
no subject
As far as humiliating experiences go, this is pretty high up there, but he isn't in a frame of mind to care.
He sits there twitching, like some gargoylean creature warding off evil spirits, lips curled back to reveal fangs.
Later.
He'll find Long. Later.
Won't be difficult. He won't be able to get the smell of him out of his nose for days.