Intro Log: Puddle Jumpers

[hadrielmods]

Who: New arrivals and everyone else!
What: The intro log for September
Where: The colosseum and all around the city.
When: September 10th-13th
Warnings: Fresh meat, lots of rain and angry ogres

If the rain on your face isn't enough to wake you up in the colosseum, maybe the thundering footsteps and- well, thunder- is. The first thing that you may notice is that it's incredibly wet around here, with winds that could knock you over if you aren't careful and thunder that brings with it a torrent of constant rainfall.

That's all fine though, because the gods saw fit to help you out on your way in and now everyone will be waking up wearing a rain coat! These coats are a little odd, and some of them are downright silly, but we trust that you'll make do. Of course, a few of the raincoats have additional sleeves, neck holes, and entirely too many buttons as well- but hey, it's the best we could do.

Wait, what was that about thundering footsteps? Oh right, as you're navigating your new fashion choices, there are some monsters afoot who will want nothing more than to grind you into a pulp and eat you- well, if you're organic, that is. If you're not organic, then they still want to grind you to a pulp, but maybe not so much the eating part.

Ogres are from many fantasy stories, but these in particular are from the Dragon Age series. With incredible strength and stamina and massive horns, fangs, and a bloodlust for violence, these monsters won't stop until everyone around them is a blood smear on the ground. They're also not too happy about this rainfall either, so be careful not to slip in the puddles as you run away from them!

Once you've splashed around a bit, feel free to run off into the stormy abyss of our islands. You can explore the rest of the city! Find a house, a new monster, a project to help with, or simply scavenge for supplies. Good luck, and enjoy your stay in Hadriel!

► This log covers September 10th-13th.
► Feel free to make your own logs as well!
► All characters arrive with phones that have network communication and the newbie guide installed.
► Please put your character's name and open/closed in the subject line of your starters!

Comments

[chemethtry]

[ Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, why is this happening, why is any of this happening. Jesse's eyes are squeezed shut and he feels like he might puke. From terror or from being so out of shape, with smoker lungs, and having just run for his life - he can't tell which. He snaps his eyes open to look at the guy, and he looks down at his feet. Or tries to. The goddamn pink umbrella raincoat is jutting right out, blocking his view entirely.

Dashing up a hand, he slaps it down against his chest, and — Shit. His feet, yeah. They're seriously messed up.

Jesse looks back up, to the guy. God, he can't seem to catch his breath. ]

Calm down? After — [ Shoving away from the door, almost skidding in his own blood, and throwing a trembling arm out to point at what they'd just been running from out there. The pink umbrella part of his raincoat pops back out into shape with a snap. His words are a stage whispering shout. ] That? [ A sarcastic scoff of incredulity at the guy. ] Oh, yeah, sure, yeah, piece of cake! Yeah, this is a real 'sit down and shut up' kinda situation we're in.

[dadyl]

[ This guy is so animated that Daryl has a second to wonder where all his energy is coming from, even after their dash, the raincoat really capping off how much of a cartoon this kid is. Daryl just scowls though, still worried more about the fact that there could be walkers hidden anywhere, ready to come around any corner, than anything else. He hasn't even had the chance to clear the house yet to make sure they're alone, but...

Well. With all the noise Jesse is making? If the house had any in it they would already be here. And least there's that.

But when Jesse starts to freak out again and skids, practically slipping in his own blood, Daryl steps forward and forcefully grabs him by the upper arm, grip like a vice, and drags his struggling, stupid ass over to a weirdly shaped couch. He shoves him down, the world's worst nurse.

Just what he needs now, after losing his people - to be babysitting some little asshole that doesn't know what's good for him. ]

I said, sit. [ And Daryl raises his crossbow, but it's just to take with him down the first hall, checking that the first floor is deserted before making his way back to the front room. ] Ain't no one here, so chill. We gotta figure this shit out. [ And he nods pointedly at Jesse's feet. ] An' you gotta deal with those.

[chemethtry]

— Yo, what the hell, lemme go, bitch!

[ Jesse hiss-whispering this all the he's while trying to yank his arm, trying to fight his way out of the guy's grip, feet slipping and skidding smeared bloodied footprints across the floor with each protesting step. To no avail. Dumped in the couch, Jesse sprawls ungracefully, almost bouncing off the couch onto the floor. In his dumbass pink umbrella raincoat, no less.

With a flail of arms and legs, he kicks himself into a sitting position, glaring defiantly up at this bleeding asshole. Although... the fucking crossbow. Jesse gulps in spite of his outrage. Yeahhh, nah, not gonna say shit so long as the guy is right near him with that thing.

So, Jesse waits, until the guy is safely in the hall with the crossbow, before daring to yell out: ]

How 'bout you eat me, bitch!

[dadyl]

How 'bout you don't tempt me! [ Yelled back, fuck being quiet at this point. Nope, definitely no walkers here. No sound from the upstairs floor, either.

No living people either, which Daryl is both surprised and somewhat disappointed by. If there were people here they might have scared the shit out of them, but they'd have someone able to tell them what's happening - at least tell them where they are. Daryl had been half-expecting to find someone in here, what with how weirdly clean the place is, but there's no one - not even the signs of a life having been lived before they got here.

Daryl was panicked before, but now he's starting to get seriously weirded out.

There's a strangely designed kitchen down the hall but it's the towels at the sink he makes for, bypassing the appliances Daryl can't begin to explain to himself. If the kid wasn't being so irritating, Daryl might have called him in to have a look, but he also doesn't want him walking around on those feet. What sort of idiot has managed to make it this far if he doesn't even know how to take care of himself?

Daryl broods, thoughtful, soaking the towels under a stream of running water (another surprise) before bringing them back into the front room. ]

Here. [ He throws one of them at Jesse, hard, taking a little of his slow-boiling fear and annoyance out on him. Daryl sits heavily on the other end of the couch, doubled over and resting on his knees, the crossbow propped between his legs. He dabs carefully at his head, at where he thinks he's been shot somehow, and the towel comes away soaked red. ] Shit...

[chemethtry]

[ Oh fuck, thinks Jesse, with the guy now out of sight. Oh fuck, oh Jesus. Dropping both elbows onto his knees, head dropping into his hands with an anxious drag of his fingers through his hair. Fuck, what the hell is happening, what the fucking hell is happening? A tear dribbles out of the inner corner of his eye and he sniffs and quickly wipes his nose with the back of his hand, before peeking down at his feet. Blood everywhere, all over them. Smearing messily on the floor immediately around them.

He's got one bloodied foot propped up on his knee, examining it with grimacing alarm when the guy returns, and launches that wet towel at him. It slaps him half on his face, half on his chest so hard. ]

Hey, fuck you, man! [ Snapped in an angry almost-shriek... although, as several tense, silent beats pass, Jesse, still sitting motionless with the towel slung over him, sneaks a glance across at the guy. Watches him. And he finds himself daring to ask, in a much more cautiously subdued voice: ] ...You... you okay?

[dadyl]

[ This guy sure wears every mood on his sleeve, doesn't he? Daryl listens to Jesse cycle from furious to almost timid in less than a minute, Daryl refusing to look over at him until the question makes him scoff. ]

M'fine.

[ But he isn't, really. And he's still not looking at the brat, not quite, but he nods at the bloody foot propped up on his skinny knee. ]

Anythin' deep?

[chemethtry]

[ Jesse's eyes dropping back to his foot. He clutches his ankle and tugs it in a way to get a better look at the bottom of his foot. So much blood... ]

I, uh... I dunno. I mean, they-they're both, like... [ Gingerly setting that foot down, bringing up the other to set it on his knee to inspect the bottom of that foot. He grimaces slightly at the pain. ] All messed up and shit, but... might be worse than it looks, y'know?

[dadyl]

[ Daryl sighs straight at the floor, the sound so depleted and exhausted, even a little exasperated. He closes his eyes for a long second. ]

Hang on, just don't- don't touch 'em anymore. Put 'em up on the couch, 'kay?

[ And he's forcing himself to his feet again, rag pressed against his head, and a minute or two later he's back with a full jug of water from the kitchen and an empty bowl. The jug itself is a bit weird-looking, but it'll pour, and he sets the bowl by Jesse's feet. ]

Rinse 'em. Don't wipe till you know what you're dealin' with.

[chemethtry]

— Whoa, wait, man, what're you—?

[ Watching Daryl haul himself off the couch and head for the kitchen. And when the guy returns to the living room with the jug and the bowl... Jesse's anxious confusion withers into relenting guilt as both are set down by his feet. The guy looks like death, and he's helping Jesse?

Just for that... Well, Jesse can't bring himself to argue. Seeming to shrink into himself a little, Jesse does as he's told, leaning forward to pick up the jug in his trembling hand, and it shakes as he tips it into the bowl. He glances up at the guy, though. What a mess this guy is. ]

...Jesus, sit down, man.

[dadyl]

[ Daryl is just... used to it, in a way. Both helping those who need it and putting up with his own poor treatment and rough shape. It comes as second nature to him, even though he doesn't exactly seem happy about it.

Though he does sit down heavily on the couch next to Jesse, dabbing at his head. The bleeding seems to be slowing, at least. That's good news for a head wound. But then he notices Jesse's hands shaking, and he does not feel like getting up again to replace a broken pitcher. ]

Give it here.

[ And Daryl takes it out of Jesse's hand whether it's offered or not, weakness and blood loss causing less of a shake in Daryl's hands just because he's used to controlling his own nerves by this point. As unnerved as he still is.

The steady stream of water reveals nothing bad on the first foot, thankfully, but Daryl has to put the jug down on the table in front of them right afterwards to recover himself. ]

[chemethtry]

[ Wait, yo, wait, he can do this on his—! All Jesse manages is his mouth opening in protest as the pitcher is tugged out of his hand. But what can he say, especially when he has to focus on the water being suddenly poured onto his foot. He darts it into place over the bowl, biting back a small hiss around a self-reproaching sigh huffing out of him. And so, reluctant obedience, turning his foot this way and that. The unexpectedness of it all, where Jesse was instead anticipating being berated, subdues him into sheepish obedience, and when the guy lugs the pitcher onto the table, Jesse looks quickly over to him. ]

Hey, you—? Look, I... I got it, it's cool, man, just relax. Take it easy. [ Reaching for the pitcher, leaning in to peer with a startled grimace. ] Jesus... Man, you okay? The hell happened?