imeeji_frontstage | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Who: anyone
Where: the park
When: Day 75, night

[Tonight, you might see smoke coming out of the park. Or you might just see fire. There is a responsible bonfire pit dug into the ground with a roaring blaze going. A few benches have been kidnapped from elsewhere in the park, perfect for two... or three... or more... people to have a warm place to sit.

It's a nice, wholesome bonfire.]

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[ ... intrigued

but also, warm. drifting closer to it '-' ]

Huh.

[Cardigan is curled up on one of the benches, not doing anything more interesting than watching the flames and working at a wood block with a knife.]

[ someone drops a scarf over their head from behind. ]

Yo.

[blinks.]

Oh—thanks, I'm not cold.

It's a gift!

It is?

[They sound so surprised, but they are picking it up to take a better look. What are these words.]

[ ... it's Dracula, because req thinks she's funny, and also zrael.

And plopping a soft hat and gloves into their hands too. ]

Yup. Happy Hollies.

'Hollies'?

[putting these items on, bemused.]

[ THEY ARE VERY SOFT ]

Sure. It's the new nondenominational holiday for everyone to enjoy.

Oh!

[A gift giving holiday, they get it.]

Thank you, Requiem. This is sweet.

Sure. Least I can do.

What's up with the bonfire, anyway?

Cobalt gave me the idea. It just seemed nice.

[ she had meant to simply say hello, but pauses when she sees him working ]

...What are you making? Also—good evening. [ a polite smile and dip of her head ]

[smiles!]

Just practicing. Eventually I'm going to be making a bow.

Ah! [ her smile turns delighted ]

I had no idea you were a bowyer. [ she is even more interested, now. ]

Not yet, I'm learning from scratch. I don't think I've even shot a bow before; I used guns in the past.

[ a tilt of her head ] It won't be easy. [ her tone of voice makes that sound more like a feature than a drawback, though. ]

...Though... ah... what is a "gun"?

That's the point. [They also sound fairly cheerful about this.]

It's another ranged weapon, made of metal, that uses combustion [probably, don't make me google] to shoot metal pellets called bullets.

[trying to think if they left out anything important... They form their hand into a demonstrative finger-gun.] Some are one-handed, others need two. [and they briefly demonstrate a rifle hold.]

[ contemplative ] I... think I can picture it.
I... [ a frown passes over her face at some unpleasant thought ] ...think I saw something like that in a memory broadcast.

It sounds a bit similar to a flame piece or firewand.

I don't know either one.

[hm.]

You might have. They're standard, widespread weapons in the worlds of a lot of us.

Hm.

Well, ah, flame pieces and firewands have a similar construction, but they launch small explosions of firedust instead of metal pellets. They're flashy and can do quite a bit of damage, but even a shortbow would get better range.

[ a pause ] ...Even with all this evidence that people here come from different worlds, it's still strange and uncomfortable to believe.

Ah. A modern rifle—that's a gun meant for long-distance—can hit... [pauses, letting a number come to them] hundreds of meters away in the right hands.

There's a ton of variety. My world is father in the future than most, with more advanced technology: you can get anywhere on Earth in four hours or less. In someone else's, people fight card games with monsters. It's super weird.

[ her eyes widen, genuinely impressed —but, before she can comment, something else they say catches her attention ]

On "earth"? By that do you mean... you have the technology to travel that unnaturally quickly, but it is limited to travel over a single element?

[Oh, whoops.]

That's the name of the planet—The world. The transportation itself is through the air.

[ her eyes go, if anything, even wider ]

...In most cases, I would call that magic.
—Never mind the bit about worlds where monsters are fought with playing cards. [ her tone tries for wry, but it's clear she's still more than a little off balance. ]

For what it's worth, my own instinct—if it is something I can trust, without memories—is to call the world "Creation."

I think you can trust it. [hmm] I haven't heard that name before, it sounds very... religious.

[ a light shrug ] I don't know about that. It is the land that was... created, I suppose?

None of the details come to me, really... not without, ah, you know. But... just because there are gods about doesn't mean most of them have anything to do with your own people.

[ Someone was minding his own business in the park and then he saw a FIRE and who cares if it's safe, his fear is IRRATIONAL and he let's out a startled yelp somewhere nearby when he notices it before he rapidly heads AWAY, guitar in tow. ]