revivalproject | Temba Beach Party!

Entry tags:

Temba Beach Party!

WHO: EVERYONE!!
WHERE: Temba Beach
WHAT: BEACH PARTY TIME!!
WHEN: noooooooow
Notes: Mix & Match the prompts as desired. Any format goes!
WARNINGS: Pride Birbs. It's Pride month. So. PRIDE BIRBS! Oh. And you may add your own warning labels to the respective threads, I suppose.

Isn't it amazing what people can achieve when several come together and pool their ideas and resources for a shared goal?

It certainly is in Jon's eyes, whose innate lack of creativity originally has gone as far as bringing some blankets to the beach and hoping for a good mood. What has ended up being set up on the bluish, almost purple sand of the beach is far beyond anything he would have imagined and he won't deny being glad he has reached out over the network with his little suggestion.

Of Barbecues, Grills and other Beverages

Do you remember Cobb asking for a grill to be made for him? Right. That grill can be found at the party. Kyle has offered to prepare burgers to be grilled along with whatever meat selection the diner has to offer and Clarice is the person to thank for the home made ice pops, created from native fruits such as glueberries and mangourd. Of course these are kept fresh under a parasol and in an insulated box mostly buried into the sun. That's how the majority of the drinks offered at this party are being kept cool as well.

If you want to catch one of those fat green lobsters roaming the beach as well and toss it onto the grill, you sure can try.

INTO THE OCEAN!!

You better bring your swimwear, because jumping into the water is an option. No actually dangerous creatures are this close to the shore, making swimming or potential swimming lessons very much possible.

Tony also ensured there is a little kiddie pool for the babies. And Cobb.

Someone brought an inflatable Eyeball?

Before anyone asks, it wasn't Jon. But it's there. An inflatable eye beach ball.

Any questions? Yes? Good.

Lounging in the Shade & Music

Parasols, blankets and a guitar borrowed from Cayde's bar. Sit down, relax, chat. And if you know how to play this instrument, you're very welcome to do so.

Let there be BIRBS

Have you wondered yet why those birds are in the banner for this party? It's because they are here.

At first they linger in the trees near the beach, watching and squawking and being colorful parrots. As a little time passes, they leave the safety of their trees and start coming over, sitting on parasols, hopping curiously between this oddly large amount of people gathering at their beach and in all likelihood attempting to steal a snack or two.

But if you pay close attention, you can also observe them swooping down at the nearby lobsters, easily picking them up and carry them back into the nearby forest. Apparently these birds aren't just colorful and curious they also hunt lobsters. Who could have known...

Don't forget the Caves

Actually not far from our little party waits the entrance to the caves. Take a wrong turn in them and you will find yourself in a large chamber filled with those energy crystals that make all your technology glow and go insane or result in your powers to fluctuate greatly. Take the right turn, and you find yourself at those mysterious hot springs only few know about.

To be fair, the actual party is at the beach, but who knows when the need for some privacy arises.

When it gets Dark we gather around the Rainbow Colored Fire Pit

While set up at the edge of the gathering, the fire pit Tony and Cayde have set up to have a bonfire in easily is one of the center pieces of the party. Benches and seats either brought over from Temba or crafted from different material are set up around it and once the sun begins to set and the bonfire gets lit along with the many torches set up around the party, the invitation to remain a little longer couldn't be clearer.

There's more to it than just a cozy fire, a pleasant atmosphere and the company of friends. Next to the fire pit sits a small box. In that box, wrapped in plain tissue paper, are what at first glance are little more than lumps of wax. But mixed into this wax are different chemicals and tossing these into the pit will result in the fire burning with different colors or even sparkle. Way to set the mood and linger as the party winds down.

Due to health concerns Jon does not recommend cooking any food over the chemically altered flames, thank you.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Kyle shrugs. "I don't know that," he says. "About the ghosts. No marshmallows, right. Not that we have any, anyway."

He looks at the coloured flames with a smile. "I mean, okay, I guess most of them are just 'a ghost showed up and talked to me' but surely YOU know some cool ones, Jon."

Jon scowls at that. "What you are referring to as cool ghost stories are witness reports of genuine paranormal events, Kyle. A lot of these witnesses died a gruesome death shortly after giving their statements and those that didn't were tortured later. I refuse to consider any of these statements as a possible source for entertainment."

Sorry, Kyle. Jon may be a monster, but he still recognizes when something is inappropriate.

You've never seen someone's face fall so fast. Guilt replaces enthusiasm quickly and completely.

"Sorry," he says, subdued. "I didn't know you meant ALL the ones you know were fucking tragedies. I thought... you know, you'd know unique ones but not where the people who saw em people died..."

Sitting on the sand by the fire, he gathers his knees up close to his chest and falls silent.

The scowl on Jon's face softens, but his expression remains grim as he sighs and shakes his head.

"No. You- Didn't know. I'm sorry. I- Hrmm. I don't think I can do any other stories anymore. You know. False ones. Fictional ones..." Those aren't what the Eye wants.

"It's cool, don't worry about it. It's just a dumb thing we'd do back home."

He pokes at the sand. "Okay, so. Fuck that, what do you usually do around a fire, then?"

"Well, exactly that. At least... Before the apocalypse. And by people that were permitted to life their lives without the awareness of what powers aim to destroy their world." It's a lot less fun when one has to deal with these things.

Jon's frown drops down to the flames and nudges some wax into it, causing part of the flames to turn blue. "These days I just try not to think too much about it." With little success.

Kyle doesn't want to be a smartass, but sometimes he really can't help himself. "I mean, there's always powers aiming to destroy the world," he points out. "Even without like... Cthulhu or whatever."

Kyle steals some wax and winds up turning flames neon pink. He wrinkles his nose. "...uhm. If you say Biggie Smalls in front of a mirror three times, he appears. Did you know that?"

Jon watches the flames for a moment, then glances up at Kyle. "Cthulhu doesn't exist on my Earth, I'm afraid. All the Fears, they... They are- They once used to be one being. A being that existed and eventually fragmented as living beings evolved and with them the things they feared."

Another pause. Then a decision. "I can tell you about it. About fear."

"Dude, you get what I mean."

Kyle thinks about that a moment, then raises an eyebrow. "Is this gonna drive me insane or make me shit myself or something?"

"Hm." The answer is a little shrug, then fixes his eyes on Kyle over the fire that just for a moment seems to flicker a little wrong. And with that flicker a possibly familiar faint distortion settles back into the Archivist's voice.

"I don't know. Ạ͑́r̢͖͋ě̸̹ ͖̈́́ÿ̵͔o̫͊̕u̴̗̅ ̩ͨ̀s̡̰̆c̩͗́a̭̓͘ṙ̷̝e̵̥͌d͐͏͇ ̮̅͟ę̜ͭa̓͏̤s̵̼̋iͣ͏̱ḻ̢ͪy̮͌͞?̲͒̀"

Well. That's hella creepy.

But, on the other hand, it's Jon. Sure, he might be a conduit to unspeakable powers and he could most likely kill Kyle in a heartbeat (but then who in Temba couldn't?) but...

It's not like he's Eric Cartman.

"Nope," Kyle replies.

Jon simply nods, takes a deep breath and begins to speak. His voice is steady, yet that underlying crackling distortion doesn't leave it through the entire recitation.

"Once upon a time there was fear. Old fear. Primal fear. A fear of blood and pounding feet, a fear of that sudden burst of pain and then nothing. And that fear was nothing. Went nowhere. Knew not what it was.

Then it became. Or perhaps it always was and simply entered. But fear was here and true and was itself, and it hungered. It wished to know more. It wished to feel more. It wished to be more. And to those things that hurried through the grass, that shivered through the night in their burrows and their caves, because they knew the dark held flashing talons and shining eyes, they fed the fear. It was blunt and it was simple, but still it was solid enough to satisfy. And the thing that was fear was sated and content.

Then came minds that knew it differently. They grew slowly, over the millennia; inch by inch they found new things to dread. The fear of their own end, of the things that lived in the darkness, became a fear of the darkness itself. And as they grew to know what it is that they saw, to give it names, and struggle at learning, so too did they learn to fear that their eyes might deceive them, or show them too much. And as they learned to know their friends and kin, so too did they learn to fear the unknown figure, the coming of the stranger, and the silence when they were alone. And when they found fire, that bright ignition of home and hope and progress, the thing that was fear gorged itself on a newfound terror once again.

And as these tiny, strange minds grew and learned, they did something new. They began to take their thoughts, their instincts and their horrors, and they crystallized them. They gave them sound and form and shape to share them. And as they did the thing that was fear felt itself began to tear, to crack and fracture along a thousand unseen fault lines. It bled and warped and multiplied, and could no longer see itself as once it did. It could never be whole again.

But within these forms were freedoms, new and wonderful dreads to push and explore, new muscles to flex. The joy of oozing, crawling pestilence as minds distrusted their own corrupted bodies. The satisfaction of surrounding them, suffocating them, reaching down into them and drinking in their panic as breath failed them.

And as they grew to learn their place within the world, the pathetic meagerness of their own existence, they could not spin a story rich or grand enough to fully hide their own awful insignificance, lost and alone in the terrible greatness of the universe. And by the time these minds had reached a point of intricacy to lie and scheme and puppet one other, they had also learned to conceive of war.

And as the things that were fear hovered at the edge of the world, the flowing horror of these minds nourished them, swelling some and withering others, pushing and pulling the shattered, swirling mass of terror into ever newer and undiscovered forms.

And something else began to happen. Some minds did not simply recoil from them and feed them. Some seemed almost to call them, to court them, to hunger for them in return. Minds that saw the faces of the things that were fear, and were compelled as much as they were repulsed. Whether or not they knew what it was they did, they called out. And they were answered.

Time is different for fear, and it cannot be said exactly who was the first to open themselves and be filled with the power of terror. A hermit, huddled in a pitch black cave through winter, who emerged and brought the depth of night with him wherever he trod. A pestilent chieftain who found her breath sloughed from her body and rotted whatever it touched. A warrior driven from their village, who found their face as smooth and shifting as the sands of their home. Which came first does not matter, the unseen gap was bridged, and the thin veil between the world that was and the things that were fear had been torn, ever so slightly.

And with this tear, they grew stronger, bolder, pouring themselves into the world and creating monsters. Long things that wore you like a suit, smiling things that stripped you from your bones, unseen things that watched and watched and watched and never left you. And with each new creation, each new servant, the Fears reached further and fed the things that made them.

And with this newfound power came greed. The hunger for more, the unformed, unfocused, but impossibly huge desire to exist. To join the minds that gave them shape and purpose, and finally drink their fill ‘til they were one and the same. They had no concept of how, or when, or even why, but they needed it. They needed it.

And so the things that were fear began to sing, to draw ever more multitudes to them, to shape them and push them and beg them for freedom. For existence. But though they jostled and pushed and fought to emerge, they could not. For they could not conceive of what or where they were beyond the words and images the minds below could give them."

And that's where he finishes. The state in which the fears of his world have lingered in for thousands of years: Yearning to be released and claim the world they could just barely brush against.

Jon sure knew how to tell a story.

Kyle sits by the fire, skinny arms draped around his knees, watching Jon with fascinated eyes. He knows this to be a true story, but that doesn't make it any less compelling. In fact, it might make it more so.

"So they're stuck," he says at length.

"Used to be." Jon nods. "Until I left them into my world." Starting a bit of an apocalypse.

"Then they were released from my Earth and into the multiverse, to possibly other unsuspecting worlds."

Well.

"I mean. It's not like you did that on purpose, right? So, I mean. It sucks and all, but..." Kyle shrugs. "And if I'm following, they're still kinda fucked in terms of only being able to take forms that people can imagine."

Jon can only shrug. "Let's hope that's the case. But- I can't see them. Wherever they are now." He can only speak for the Eye.

"Right." He falls silent, watching the fire, tossing another handful of wax onto it. It burns deep green.

"You do know you're like, the most existential guys ever, right Jon?"

"Fear is rather universal, yes..." Jon can't help the little sigh. "I would have welcomed it if there were powers from less dreadful areas to balance them out, but- There are none."

At least some worlds have super heroes.

"Well. I mean, there must be SOMEwhere. Tommy keeps saying that Billy is like... actually a god in some universe. He's pretty not evil."

He picks at a hangnail. "I'm not quite naïve enough to ask 'what about God-God, but that's also mostly because God is kind of an asshole, if you ask me. 'Hey you're the chosen people, go wander around for forty years.' You know? ...I think I saw him once, but that might have been mass hysteria, or something. He didn't look how you'd think."

Jon nods. "I am aware. But I am also only speaking for my version of Earth." Making assumptions about other worlds isn't something Jon would do.

"As far as gods go..." He trails off for a bit, then lets out the tiniest huff of a laugh. "I suppose for a while I was the closest my Earth had for an actual god."

"Yeah... I guess just like, you said they might have gotten out into the multiverse. So maybe somewhere they're getting their asses kicked."

Kyle throws his hands up, but he's grinning a little. "You guys are giving me a complex! Billy's a god, you're a god, all the Jedis are fuckin space wizards, there's an actual elf around..." He shakes his head. "I wake up back here and you guys can all kick my ass with a thought again."

"I actually would welcome that." The response is given with a small smirk. Jon indeed wouldn't mind the fears to actually be dealt with somewhere somehow for good.

The smirk morphs into a little shake of his head before he bows his head a little. "Having these powers is rather frustrating without any control over them."

"You gotta have hope, dude."

Kyle considers this. "Could you ask for help here? From Mr. Kenobi or the twins or somebody? I know it's not the same, but I assume all powers require similar mental disciplines in order to control em."

"I have spoken to them in the past. Before I was returned to my own world and- Well. I actually gained the control I needed." And he didn't even have to master any meditation techniques.

"It remains something I need to get fully used to, but I have more agency about what's going on in my head now. Which... Is nice."

"Well, then you're golden!" He claps his hands together as if that settles things. "So now life's gonna get a lot less frustrating. Well. In that regard, anyway."

Temba Beach Party!

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In favor of readability you get italics in place of further zalgo.

thanks XD

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