fh_trips | Entries tagged with island summer jaunt 2011

It was late enough in the night to be early in the next morning when the island blinked out of Europe and to somewhere a little more American. And homey.

And black and white.

The town of Pleasantville laid just across the causeway, full of wholesome family fun, and absolutely no color whatsoever. The place looked unmistakenly 50s, and the community was close-knit. Stores closed at five PM sharp and fathers returned home to find dinner already on the table.

The streets were clean, and the weather was nice and temperate at a decent 70 degrees or so. This quiet little town was a perfect place to relax, kick back, and do absolutely nothing rowdy whatsoever. (Simply sitting down and observing the firemen saving little kitties from trees was the most exciting option.)

Not unless you wanted to start spilling color everywhere, anyway.

lockestheway

The island had been sitting out in Disney Lake for several days now. She had finally begun to calm, shaking off the last of the unsettling imprints that her previous destination had left on her. Music kept drifting from across the water, and occasionally tourists would stop to snap a picture of the pretty castle.

They never did look too closely, though.

It wasn't a long walk from Fandom to the actual park at all.

In fact, the stretch of the causeway encouraged anyone who walked on it to try it.

[[ ~~wait for the~~ ocd up! please meta where possible. ]]

lockestheway

Life had gone on in Arkham while the blasted heath made its reappearance elsewhere. These villagers had chosen to stay over the years, despite the inhospitable land that surrounded them. While the farmhouses up on the hills were abandoned, here, business was still done. Work happened. Life did.

It was a town of sagging gambrel roofs and Georgian balustrades; it was a town that was crumbling, mouldering. Old, very old, and wrong somehow, at least according to those men and women who passed by from time to time.

Not too far away - a few miles, at best - rested Miskatonic University, on lands the previous taint had never quite reached. It was safer, unlike the reservoir that laid so close to the town, and that seemed so very unreal.

This was Arkham. This was where answers might be found - if you found someone willing to part with them.

[[ for the detectives, please, and ~~wait for the~~ ocd up! ]]

lockestheway

Tired of the cold desolation of the Ice Age, the island flickered again in the middle of the night and vanished. A split second later, it flickered back into being across space and time, in the middle of a large reservoir. The water barely even rippled; either the island's descent had been graceful, or the water itself was of a peculiar stillness.

Nothing else happened during the night.

When the sun came up, the few denizens of Arkham unfortunate enough to have stayed here would get up and go about their business. The place was not a ghost town by sheer virtue of their presence, but it was only barely so. All the farms on the hill laid empty. Even in the light of day, the silence was almost deafening.

Set upon by the full glare of the sun, the water rippled.

Temperature: 70F. A very steady, very bland 70F.

lockestheway

As it turned out, London was not ideal. It was too smelly, too loud, there was too much tea, the king was a spendthrift... well, the island had a whole list of reasons why she didn't agree with the place.

So in the midst of the night, she vanished as quickly as she had appeared.

And reappeared amidst the ice.

There. Peace. Quiet. Cold - she hadn't been liking the way those temperatures had been going.

A mammoth lifted his head as his herd strode on past, but none of them found the appearance of the island curious enough to do anything about it. Otherwise, the area had absolutely no discerning features: it was full of snow, full of high glaciers, and very, very cold.

It started snowing almost immediately.

A small layer of warmth covered the island, making sure the temperatures wouldn't dip too far below 32F; as soon as you left the island, however, they could easily drop far below zero.

lockestheway

The island had had enough of the rain, and the portents, and the rising levels of the water. Perhaps this was going to be the flood that drowned Atlantis, or perhaps it wasn't, but she wasn't planning to stick around to find out. And so, somewhere in the dark of the night, she pulsed briefly with light and then vanished.

Only to pop up again in the middle of a river, a few miles away from the center of a large - for its time - city. The island pulsed with light one more time, then laid still. The water crashed against her shores with violent confusion, but the land mass didn't budge.

When the sun came up, so would the people of Regency London, the rich putting on their pretty frocks and striding from beautiful landmark to beautiful landmark. The poor, on the other hand, would go on drinking, working, and passing around books of a dubious but highly entertaining nature, among other things.

Neither would as much as cross the other's reality.

It was a crisp 65F in London today. The sun was shining behind the clouds, and not a drop of rain would fall today.

lockestheway

Two days ago, the thunderstorms had moved in. They still had not gone. Now, two priests stood outside the Temple of Ariadne, frowning up at the skies. "I told you," said one of them, in a dialect of Greek so ancient most people wouldn't even have been able to decipher it. "Those lights in the sky, they were an omen! The Gods are unhappy with us."

"No," said the other. "It is merely bad weather. It will go. With time."

"The snakes say otherwise," said the first priest. "Let us prepare regardless."

"I still think it's a waste of time."

"Hmph."

Water flowed down the streets of Atlantis, down towards the sea. The bull-leapers were absent from the streets, though the constant downpour hadn't stopped the merchants. Even in the midst of bad weather and worse omens, Atlantis thrived, and her doors were open.

Current Music: 'Only Rain', Bad Religion

lockestheway

The last of the spiders skittered - or rather, limped - off-island around midnight. It was urged on, as were many of his spider bretheren, by a gentle little tremor. And then a flash of light.

And then, in the case of one or two spiders, falling very hard into the lake.

Because: fed up with annoying little spiders, the island was once again on the move. This time picking somewhere warm and decidedly less land locked to give a try. The Mediterranean was always lovely at this time of the year, after all. Even if it was a little further in the past for most of the island. Or a lot further, maybe.

Who knew?

These people didn't exactly measure time in terms of Anno Domini.

It was a lovely 70F out, the sun was shining and the city of Atlantis was just off the coast of Fandom Island. Atlantis while it was still dry and inhabited, that is. One that had a decidedly Minoan flare to it if you're the type to know about that, though it had curious touches here and there that seemed to place it either much earlier, or much later.

It was perhaps even curiouser that none of the Atlantisians even batted an eye at the giant castle appearing practically on their doorstep. Fandomites would be shoo'd away from places they'd rather not see strangers poking around, but that was about all.

lockestheway

A modest flash of light illuminated the Colorado night for a brief few seconds before fading. In its wake, it left a castle sitting on an island sitting in Grand Lake, as one did, and nothing on Fandom was changed. Well, besides the many rain puddles, which almost immediately began to drain into the lake.

By morning, the sun was high in the sky, and temperatures hit an even 70 degrees Fahrenheit. It would warm up a little more during the day, but not by much.

Several miles across the water laid the beginnings of a mining town. Grand Lake was a whiles away from Hot Sulphur Springs, and young and full of excitement. A train station laid a short riding distance away, but the real draw were the mines near the town.

People on horseback occasionally trotted across the plains, but more often they were filled with cattle, or nothing at all.

Welcome to the frontier. Where steam rules and cowboys roam.

[[ ~~wait for the~~ ocd up, have at! ]]

lockestheway

It was past midnight when Fandom flickered into being just off the coast near Tokyo. It was past midnight, and it was pouring, water battering down on the rooftops of the island, rolling down the slanted streets and pooling in the dips in the road.

There were no dunes or landmasses seperating the island from the city this time: the suburbs, if you were going to give them such a positive description, started at the coast and spread across the land as far as anyone could see. Luckily, for the inhabitants of this future Tokyo, a randomly-materializing island was downright pedestrian.

They weren't too far from the heart of the city, though. Central Tokyo was only a few miles away; the skyscrapers were easily visible on the horizon even in the dark. It was a large, sprawling place, glowing with eery lines of neon.

It was not a place the law held a firm grip on.

The broad streets of Tokyo were covered in rain, and where they weren't congested, street races were held. Not that anyone cared: most of the population was indoors, in karaoke bars and gaming centers, in electronic stores and hotels and technology centers and private detective's offices. Anywhere to hide from the rain.

Neon signs were everywhere, showing advertisements for drinks and outfits and robots and other feats of the imagination. Banners, spread from one building to another above the streets, lit up the darkness with thick neon writing, though all of it was in Japanese.

Welcome to Tokyo. It's a nice, balmy 70 degrees Fahrenheit. Cyborgs roam the street, and nowhere is truly safe.

Enjoy.

[[ ~~wait for the~~ ocd up! open! ]]

lockestheway

The island had taken great care in picking its arrival spot. Unlike Iceland, this place would not have a population already aware of Fandom and what it could do -- so to avoid spooking the locals, the island landed just a little whiles out from Alexandria, on the other end of a high dune that managed to block even the spire of the school from sight.

Well, from almost everyone's sight. The poor beloinclothed pretty Egyptian lad who happened to be on the wrong side of the dune at the wrong time got quite a shock, and quite possibly passed out. But let's not talk about him.

It was a nice, warm 82 degrees Fahrenheit out here. On this side of the dune, there was sand, and there was sea - not a bad place to be, overall.

On the other side of the dune laid Alexandria, the center of learning for the known world. Various forts and other majestic structures littered the coast, with less reputable-looking dwellings just behind them. Some spires could even be seen from the island itself.

Welcome to Egypt, BC, where temperatures varied between 80 and 100F this time of year. Try not to go into temperature shock -- and try not to scare the locals with your fancy jeans. Yeah, we're looking at you.

[[ ~~wait for the ocd...~~ ocd up and open! ]]

fh-vikings.livejournal.com

It might have been Eric, or the squirrels, or the moose, or a very intrepid Danish NPC who had talked the Vikings into this. That was something the Viking women who showed up at the causeway didn't share. To be fair, since they only spoke old Norse, it would've been kind of hard for them to.

But one of them did have a sign that read, somewhat jaggedly, 'Þour'. They had even attempted to squiggle the bottom line of the first character in such a way that it kind of looked like a 't'.

They had planned a tour of the general area and its bounties, as a way to say thank you for all the interesting meat they had managed to procur on the island ~~Þus~~ thusfar. Past the waterfalls, to the hot springs, to the valley of the AlÞing, Þhingvellir itself-- it was really quite lovely.

Of course, Fandomites could just go to the village and get hopping drunk and maybe start a barfight instead.

God knows that's what the Vikings themselves were planning to do.

[[ ocd up! have at! Viking Village | The Lake | Öxaráfoss Waterfall | AlÞing and Almannagjá Valley | Hot Springs | OOC ]]

fh-vikings.livejournal.com

Current Conditions:
Sunny, 45F

Forecast:
Five Minutes From Now - Mostly Cloudy, 50F
Twenty Minutes From Now - Few Showers, 40F
Five Hours From Now - Sunny, 50F

fh-vikings.livejournal.com

Current Conditions:
Mostly Cloudy, 55F

Forecast:
Five Minutes From Now - Partly Cloudy, 50F
Twenty Minutes From Now - Few Showers, 55F
Five Hours From Now - Mostly Cloudy, 55F

fh-vikings.livejournal.com

The temperature on Iceland swung from 35 to 60 degrees Fahrenheit on a whim this time of year; the locals had a saying that if you didn't like the weather, all you had to do was wait for five minutes, and it would change. Right now, the weather was a little chilly, and a thin layer of mist hung on the land early on in the morning.

The Viking village laid a bare fifteen minutes' hike away from Fandom, and its inhabitants had opened up their doors for their new allies. (At least, that's what they were calling them until the Fandomites showed any sign of trying to stage an invasion.) It was a cheery village, for as far as Icelandic Viking villages went, with flowers tucked in the thatch roofs and women in furs trailing down the streets.

There still weren't all too many trees, though.

There wasn't a single person in the village who spoke English, but most of them managed to get their meaning across by gesturing a lot or shoving things at people anyway. There was a tavern, of a kind, and in the middle of the village stood the chieftain's mead hall. The tiny market provided fish and furs and anything else the locals might need, and livestock... pretty much strolled through the place at random.

At the edge of town sat the wharf, relatively close to the lake. Boats could be rolled down to the shore across a long path, with the help of some logs (so that's where the trees had gone).

Viking life was merry.

If incredibly smelly.

Though, to be fair, at least a quarter of that was totally the fault of the tiny sulfuric geysers that dotted the landscape around the town.

[[ come visit the village of the vikings! Wander Through Town | the Market | Tavern | Mead Hall | Wharf | OOC ]]

Fandom High RPG

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In-Character Comms

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Navigation

And let me find no true abode

But forever let me roam

Entries tagged with island summer jaunt 2011

Pleasantville, Iowa, The 1950s, Saturday Night/Sunday Morning

Disneyland Paris, Wednesday

The Village of Arkham, Friday

The Village of Arkham, 1820, Sunday

Somewhere In The Great White Wastes, Early in the Quaternary Ice Age, Thousands of Years Ago

The Thames, Just Outside London, Monday, 1815

Atlantis, Sunday

From Colorado To Atlantis, Some Time Very Much BC

Grand Lake, Colorado, 1881

Tokyo, Japan, 2040 AD

Alexandria, Egypt, 305 BC

The Area Around Þingvallavatn, Wednesday Afternoon & Evening

Conditions for Þingvallavatn Lake, 10/05/945

Conditions for Þingvallavatn Lake, 09/05/945

A Village Near Þingvallavatn Lake, Iceland, Monday, 945 AD

Fandom High RPG

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