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+---- Thread: [PQ] she shells sanctuary (/showthread.php?tid=11542)
she shells sanctuary - Flora - 06-18-2025
The harbour smells like sun-warmed salt and the kind of effort that clings to skin and clothing after too many days without rest. Flora stands on the dock with her curls pulled high and her hands on her hips, gold rings catching the light as she surveys the trio gathered with her. Spice lounges lazily in a coiled curve on the ropes nearby, her icy breath hissing occasionally over the edge into the seafoam below.
[say]"I know this part’s always a pain in the ass,"[/say] she says without preamble, tone dry but not without a bit of sparkle. [say]"But the faster we get it done, the faster we raise a giant middle finger to the Family. And if that’s not worth hauling shells for, I don’t know what is."[/say] Even if it was the worst of the tasks.
The shells themselves are in baskets at her feet, gleaming like fragments of captured sunset. [say]"So.
Turning slightly, her aquamarine gaze finds Melita, her smirk twitching wider. [say]"And you and I can handle the mainland—the Miana Pool, Rainbow Road, and the Port—with the Firecracker and Sugartide."[/say]
She pauses then, sweeping her gaze over the three of them, expression momentarily all business beneath the shimmer of sweat and sun. [say]"Everyone good with where they’re stationed? Any changes, requests, last-minute dramatic monologues?"[/say] A brow lifts, golden and expectant. [say]"Speak now or forever hold your saltwater."[/say]
8 Round PQ, WE CAN FUCKIN' DO THIS.
1. Flora
2. Melita
3.
4. Jack
1/8: Arrive, say if you're good with your assignment, and if so, grab your shells.
RE: she shells sanctuary - Melita - 06-18-2025
The only thing that kept Melita from whining and whinging about the current state was being able to use the skyboats. Sure, she liked the prospects of all of Torchline being protected, but the promised chaos was more up her alley and speed.
So she didn’t even gripe as the plans were announced and made, steeling herself with a Cheshire grin, arching her brow at the others, listening, nodding, plastering essentially only her own plans into formation. [say]“Fabulous,”[/say] she smiled back at Flora, snagging at her bucket of shells and marching over to the Firecracker, beginning to unfurl the sails.
--
[say]Melita’s ready and has her shells![/say]
RE: she shells sanctuary - Hadama - 06-18-2025
It was, perhaps, not the most exciting task to undertake, but Hadama was not one for shirking his duty and he would not start today. He had arrived early with a carafe of iced fruit juice to offer to those who needed a cool drink before they began, and stood quietly as Flora handled the logistics. The assignment he was given met with his quiet approval, and he inclined his head in acceptance before reaching out to claim his basket of shells.
"No monologues today," he assured his co-ruler with solemn sincerity that was somewhat ruined with a sly wink. He had no ship to prepare, only himself, but he waited courteously while Melita and Jack sorted out their rides. He was ready to begin whenever Flora gave the word, prepared to step through a whisper of moonlight and into the distant sea.
Hadama collects a basket of shells and prepares to teleport to his assigned location.
RE: she shells sanctuary - Jack - 06-23-2025
Jack does not have a carafe of iced fruit juice. Jack has a flask of spiced rum with an alcohol content of might go blind, and he’s planning for it to be empty by the time he’s done with this. The Ark has enough crew to compensate, after all, and if they don’t, that’s a risk the captain is willing to take. [say]”Apopo an’ Aumakua? Fine with me,”[/say] he says, adjusting his sunglasses against the glare of the sunlight and offering a sharp whistle behind him.
A couple of sailors grab up the basket of shells they’ll be responsible for yeeting over the side of the ship, carting it off to the galleon waiting nearby, and with only a parting salute to the rest of their rag-tag little gang, Jack will also take his leave. Maybe he’ll even come back when it’s all done - only time and liquor will tell, though.
RE: she shells sanctuary - Serendipity - 06-23-2025
One even seems to look at you, uttering a soft greeting, before moving on, after its brethren.
You’ve encountered a Cloud Wyrm. This counts as an uncommon creature encounter for the purposes of levelling, but does not count as a Random Event for levelling or MP. There will be no further admin/re intervention. If you choose to follow this creature, you do so at your own risk, however, just having it in this thread is enough to satisfy your levelling requirements.
Cloud Wyrm (uncommon/mythical) - Cousins of the dragon, these small and serpentine creatures boast no wings or destructive breath. Rather, they breathe clouds. Their four-legged white bodies can be seen slithering through the air, puffy clouds streaming from their mouths to ease the intensity of the sun on the plains. They never get any bigger than a weasel, and are known as docile, playful creatures, and they seem to enjoy collecting shiny things.
RE: she shells sanctuary - Flora - 06-23-2025
THE SUGARTIDE & THE FIRECRACKER
The Miana Pool is suspiciously still by the time Flora and Melita arrive. Water like glass, air sticky-sweet, and not a ripple to hint at the usual current. It’s only once they get close enough to deploy the first shells that the culprits surface: a flotilla of oversized coconut crabs, their claws clacking and shells daubed with streaks of berry paint. Each one seems determined to claim the glowing shells for themselves, dragging them down into their burrows like precious loot. One of them even has a pirate flag stuck to its back.
[say]”Uh….do you have anything we can shoot them with?”[/say] Flora yells across the bow of the Sugartide, glancing at Melita.
HADAMA
Out at Metacarpal, something in the sand doesn’t like being disturbed. Hadama’s magic might slide easily through the reef caverns and shelf-drop trenches, but near the far shoals, the seabed shifts with unnatural speed. A burrowing stingray the size of a dining table stirs beneath his path, its patterned back nearly indistinguishable from the terrain. It’s not aggressive—until it is.
THE ARK
The trip to Apopo goes smoothly at first, the wind favouring the sails and the sea behaving — until the Ark crosses into a patch of floating seaweed laced with fine pink blossoms. The moment they’re disturbed, the blossoms burst into a pollen cloud that has the effect of an extremely inconvenient laughing spell. Nearby flying fish seem especially amused, launching themselves in a synchronised arc across the bow.
2/8
RE: she shells sanctuary - Jack - 06-23-2025
Having been lazily giving his orders and preparing to begin tossing shells around the outskirts of Apopo, as the Ark glides smoothly through the patch of seaweed and its strange pollen, Jack has just enough time to take a well-deserved nip of rum before everything gets hilarious. Like, really hilarious.
At first it’s just the crew chuckling to themselves as they get on with their work, but as soon as the flying fish start slapping against the bow of the ship, the Ark - Jack included - is rendered all but dead in the water until the air clears enough for them to regain their sensibilities. (A difficult thing when weak with laughter).
On the plus side, some of the crew (looking at you Bassian) do throw some shells at the fish as they jump, so some end up in the water, even if it’s accompanied by cries of fuck them scaly birds!
Jack and the crew stop to have a fun time and throw shells at the flying fish.
RE: she shells sanctuary - Melita - 06-23-2025
Melita would’ve ordinarily been enthralled with the gigantic coconut crabs – until, of course, they started thwarting all their careful work. Instead, she ended up rolling her eyes, vaguely irritated as she began to sort through her weaponry. [say]“I’m sad you even have to ask!”[/say] She responded to Flora as she cupped her hands, reaching for her quiver and bow. [say]“Cannons probably won’t reach far enough – which is a whole other fuckin’ story!”[/say] was another shout, before snorting at herself.
Then she maneuvered the sails a little, before opting for an electric arrow, firing off one at the crabs, hoping it’d be enough for them to either be electrocuted, scatter, or hell why not both.
--
[say]Melita shoots at the coconut crabs with her bow and lightning arrows.
Type: Light | Style: Offensive | Level: Mastered
Bowstring Bracelet | At first this bracelet appears only as a length of intricately braided bowstring, adorned with vinelike patterns and tiny, fanged charms. But with an arrow in hand, upon miming the action of knocking and drawing it, the user will feel a bow beneath their fingers, as if it was there all along.
Type: Dark | Style: Offensive | Level: Mastered
Fire/Lightning/Ice Quiver | A magical quiver with two compartments. In one, it turns any arrow placed within into a flaming projectile when shot. In the other, the arrow becomes imbued with electricity. (Made by Remi)[/say]
RE: she shells sanctuary - Hadama - 06-28-2025
He swam perhaps a body length above the sea floor in his Mer form, dropping shells at regular intervals. The water was bright with sunlight filtering down from surface to sand, all the colors of fish and coral glinting with rich hues. It was a beautiful day to deposit the shells along the line of islands, encompassing the whole of the coast in its new protection--
The stingray rose from below in silence, but the water was pushed aside at its passage and Hadama twisted to avoid its approach on instinct. Only as it was passing him did he see that it was not a shark or orca, and after a moment's hesitation he shifted. The basket was stretched up to catch in one of his cephalic lobes as his wings spread wide and he took on his full manta form, attempting to intimidate the stingray into retreating.
Hadama shifts to his manta form, hooking the basket of shells on a cephalic horn, and tries to intimidate the sting ray into leaving him alone.
RE: she shells sanctuary - Flora - 06-28-2025
THE SUGARTIDE & THE FIRECRACKER
The electric arrow strikes true—crackling across the shell of the nearest coconut crab with a zap that explodes it. The berry-painted marauders erupt into disarray, their clacking chorus reaching a comedic crescendo as they scuttle in all directions. One, proudly flying its tiny pirate flag, does a dramatic roll into the water like it’s been mortally wounded. Flora swears it was faking.
[say]"That’s right,"[/say] she calls triumphantly, tossing one of the glowing shells toward a clear patch of lagoon sand. [say]"Torchline says no looting during infrastructure upgrades!"[/say]
With the crabs temporarily scattered, Melita and Flora are free yeet the first of their protective shells. But a few shell-thieves linger, peeking from behind rocks and coconuts like they’re plotting revenge. Which, knowing Torchline’s wildlife, they absolutely are. [say]"Hey, you wanna scare those ones off while I throw these over?"[/say]
HADAMA
The stingray doesn’t flee—but it pauses. Manta-Hadama, gleaming and enormous, eclipses the sunlight in a wide arc as he glides over the seabed. His cephalic lobes spread like wings of silk, trailing currents that stir the seafloor. The stingray flutters upward in challenge, puffing up slightly with territorial bravado. For a long moment, it hovers—eye to eye with Hadama—and then, slowly, it sinks back into the shifting sand, its ripple fading into silence once more.
Victory—though a quiet one.
Hadama is free to resume dropping his shells.
THE ARK
By the time the laughter fades and order is tentatively restored, the Ark nears the volcanic shallows fringing Apopo. The water here bubbles faintly—not from heat, but from gas vents riddling the ocean floor like an unseen minefield. The closer the ship gets to the intended drop zones, the more the bubbles intensify, rising in silver flurries. On the surface, it’s eerily quiet—until one of the vents erupts, sending a geyser of steam and water high into the air and startling a nearby flock of hels into a chaotic spiral.
The vents seem to flare in irregular pulses, not entirely predictable. Timing the shell drops may prove tricky, especially with the risk of sudden eruptions throwing them off-course—or worse, tossing them back up.
3/8
RE: she shells sanctuary - Hadama - 06-28-2025
He met the stingray's eye with calm resolution, offering no hostility but neither did he relinquish even an inch of ocean to the upstart. Golden scars crossed the hide of his shifted form as well, and for all that he was a gentle giant, it did not mean he was defenseless. He moved with slow and solemn grace once the other ray descended back to its feeding, remained in his manta form a few minutes longer. He swam a long, slow curve through the area to dissuade further displays of bravado from the stingray or any other predators nearby before returning to his smaller Mer form.
Then he took up his shells once more, the basket balanced upon his fingertips before he slid it more firmly onto his arm. The glowing bounty within was carefully dropped a few feet above the sea floor, falling gently to the sand as he returned to his route. It was not a straight line; he laid the shells around the outside of reefs and the castles of crustaceans, moving with the flow of the seafloor and the life upon it. Now, however, he kept warier eye out for further disruptions to his task.
Hadama makes sure no one else is inclined to cause trouble there, then shifts back to Mer and continues laying shells. This time he's keeping a better eye out for interruptions!
RE: she shells sanctuary - Jack - 06-29-2025
A tentative restoration of order is correct, because although they've flown free of the pollen and its effects, Jack is still drinking, and there's a long, fuck-ass way to go before they can stop dropping these stupid shells. Still, it appears that they've come upon Apopo at last, and it's a mildly buzzed captain that takes note of the unpredictable geysers. Only when he realises that there's absolutely zero method to the madness does he shrug and advise the crew to start the drop.
[say]"We know where they are, so don't fuckin get hit by 'em,"[/say] he calls to Murphy at the wheel. [say]"An' if any get tossed back up, we can persuade 'em back where they need to be with magic."[/say]
Jack instructs the crew to start dropping shells in the intended zones. He and any crew with air magic will redirect any shells that get thrown back up towards them back where they need to drop.
RE: she shells sanctuary - Melita - 06-30-2025
To be honest, Melita was rather impressed with the little one displaying its pirate flag. Kinda chic and badass. Besides all that though, she spotted the little ones still lingering nearby, and with a predilection for chaos and violence, adhered to the motions immediately. [say]“Obviously,”[/say] she winked towards Flora, signifying more with a salute, before sending Sila out there too.
While the dragon hovered and breathed unrelenting fire towards the remaining crabs, the Honeybee opted for her favored arrow method once more. Taking careful aim, she shot down another layer of lightning embedded arrows, careful to hold back any of her ongoing feelings about the sparks to a minimum.
--
[say]Melita and Sila attack the crabs with lightning arrows and fire.[/say]
RE: she shells sanctuary - Flora - 07-01-2025
THE SUGARTIDE & THE FIRECRACKER
The remaining crabs scatter like guilty children when Sila’s fire licks the edge of their hidey-holes, skittering with indignant clicks. One attempts a final stand by holding up a spoon like a sword—only to be promptly zapped by Melita’s arrow in a puff of steam and roasted coconut smell.
[say]"Fuckers,"[/say] Flora mutters, brushing sand from her arms before tossing the final shell into place. With the marauders mostly thwarted, the pair are free to set sail toward the technicolour sprawl of Rainbow Road, where the water shimmers with reflected dyes from the blooms above and the reef below. But instead of the tranquil charm Flora expects, they’re met with a deeply Torchline problem: a turtle migration.
Sure enough, dozens—no, hundreds—of round-shelled turtles are paddling slowly across the passage. Big ones. Little ones. A few riding on others’ backs. They aren’t hatching; they’re migrating, and Rainbow Road seems to be their chosen thoroughfare. A couple have even clambered onto the roots of overhanging mangroves to sun themselves like they own the place. [say]"Errr..y'think we can just...throw the shells over anyway?"[/say]
HADAMA
The reef patrol ends without incident, though a pair of particularly bold octopuses do their best to sneak into Hadama’s shell basket before slinking off under his watchful eye.
But as he glides toward Metacarpal Island, the seafloor begins to slope sharply—its coral-strewn base giving way to strange skeletal formations rising like knuckles from the earth. The currents around the island are oddly still, held in a heavy hush. All seems peaceful…until a sudden whumph of silt bursts from below.
From a cave mouth nestled between the reef’s bony ridges, a pale fish slithers forward—long, ribbonlike, with ghostly eyes that blink at different intervals. A ribbon eel, enormous and not-quite-normal, emerges with a movement too slow to be threatening and too curious to be natural.
It coils around a shell Hadama places and then...begins to follow him, mimicking every movement at a distance. Harmless, perhaps. But increasingly invasive.
THE ARK
The shell drop goes smoother than Jack probably expected (or deserves), with only two geyser eruptions forcing the crew to use a bit of air magic to bat flying shells back into place. A hel or two divebombs the mast in protest, but they miss.
The moment they lift away from Apopo, though, a thick fog begins to roll in ahead—unnaturally fast, smothering the horizon like it’s being poured from some invisible teapot. Aumakua, their next stop, is completely hidden from view.
As they enter the mists, navigation becomes tricky. The Ark's compass begins spinning without direction. Through the fog, they begin to see lights—gentle, lantern-like glows bobbing on the waves.
Then a voice drifts across the water. Soft. Distant. Familiar.
It says Jack’s name.
Then Murphy’s.
Then Bassian’s.
The glowing lights pulse in time with the voice. The crew will need to decide whether to follow, flee, or fight through the clear call of the siren ahead—because the shells still need to be dropped, and whatever is calling to them seems to know just who’s aboard.
4/8