Wayne (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ablativeholopleather) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
come_sailaway2023-02-27 05:32 am
ablativeholopleather) wrote in come_sailaway2023-02-27 05:32 am
Entry tags:
[OPEN+CLOSED] An Endless Cycle
Who: Wayne, mostly prior CR, and a couple open slots for new friends
What: Memory share reality funk, for those that are more into the chiller end of poking brains
When: Early-Mid March
Warnings: N/A, will update as threads progress
The cracks in reality seem to gather where he passes by most frequently, usually in the highest density around his cabin, and the buffet. The colors that peek from inside are soft, pastel yellows and oranges, pinks and blues, and if one is to get close enough to them to investigate, they might hear some pretty sick guitar riffs, a result of the thing most prevalent in his mind lately, as they're being dumped into a reality very much like the man himself: soft and squishy-looking, with mild weather and a spectacular view of the surrounding ocean. You have arrived on an island chain, in the middle of a deeply blue, weirdly reflective ocean, and in the distance you can see an edifice. Everything here seems by and large pretty peaceful.
You might look down to see some changes to yourself. Perhaps not your clothes, but maybe your shape, or the texture of your skin. Do you still have the same number of limbs? Are there more? Are there less? Have you turned a color? Have you sprouted horns in any configuration? Are you now yet another Wayne? No matter how you might have ended up...
1. The Garden [Closed, for Fio and ??]
Wayne seems busy, moving back and forth from his house out to his garden. There are a few tools sitting on the ground outside the low wall, some dirty gloves over the top of it, and there are sprouts of plants already coming up in one half of the plot that he's working on. He's clearly been out here for a little while already, his preoccupation half borne of exhaustion.
A cat sits on top of the wall. It watches him moving back and forth across the plot that he's preparing for another row of vegetables. It looks smug. That's probably just its face.
Wayne pauses when he's deposited a sack that could possibly be soil, or fertilizer, or whatever this world's equivalent might be, standing straight and stretching his arms out behind him with a soft groan and a pop of the joints. His expression slackens when he spots a visitor, one hand coming up in an easygoing wave.
"Sup?"
2. The Afterlife [Closed, for Nobunaga and César]
The beach is kinda nice. If you like red water and random fish on the shore. The sand underfoot holds the shape of footprints even better than normal wet sand, and the few denizens of the realm seem largely content to keep to themselves. One fish might explain that its seen people making sand castles and how pleasing an activity it seems to be, even when the tide inevitably comes to wash them away. Down the beach, further away from the little crystal complex, Wayne is hanging out with another fish, holding idle conversation with it while he builds a sand castle himself.
Or, it would be a sand castle, if not for the buildings that he's constructed all around himself, carefully sculpted until it's become more of a small citadel. He probably shouldn't be spending as much time here as he is right now, but there's a certain reluctance that comes with the fact that if he simply goes back out there again, alone and unprepared, he will once again be reduced to goo. Not a pleasing prospect.
3. The Airship [Closed, for Security and ??]
Wayne and his crew are setting up for departure. The newly-acquired airship is spotless after having been grounded after the initial fall of Lord Gibby, Blerol's officers taking good care of it in the event that it would be necessary to deploy again. Now, after the solid done for him by Wayne and his crew, and being made more fully aware of the terrible situation presented by the return of Gibby and his cult, they're preparing to head out and gather resources, get in touch with the sages and with the Monitor, and attempt to find more information on the cult itself to be able to actually stop it permanently, since it apparently just didn't take last time.
Hopefully anyone else coming along with them has been informed of the situation. Otherwise, it's going to fall to Wayne and his crew to do the explaining. Which means going and attempting to catch one of them after they've settled in with their supplies, topped up the pneumataphores of the ship, and set a proper course. They just...have to decide what their course should actually be. There's so much to do, and not enough time to sit around and talk about it all.
4. The Concert [Closed, for Ava and ??]
It's been a while since they've had a show this raucous. Usually the people that come out to see Moonage Lobotomy are a chill bunch, but now the crowd is pressed right up against the stage, watching the Crew with an energy borne of having finally been allowed to snap out of the intense fugue state brought on by the Hylemxylem's signal. They're happy, the monstrous and humanoid alike crushing up against each other and getting absorbed in the music that has only gotten better in the last half dozen cycles.
Wayne sits on the edge of the stage when it's all over, shaking hands and getting hugs, pressed against his best friend's side while the others rest and talk with others in the audience. There's mention of new merch that will be coming out soon and, when the group starts to disperse to go and get some fresh air, Wayne has his arms out wide, looking out toward a figure he recognizes, a neighbor or perhaps a friend from the City, grinning more widely than most ever see.
"Heeeey you made it!"
5. Waynehouse [OPEN!]
It's nice out here. Quiet, most of the time. There's a breeze off the ocean, a beach where the Larvae congregate to be looked after, a field where there's almost always a group of Waynes in various stages of their training occupied with drills to keep them sharp while they prepare for the tasks that Old Wayne might send them out on, and at the top of the House, Old Wayne himself overseeing the place from his shaded perch where he'd settled in before he could no longer easily move under his own power.
Some Waynes are utterly identical, others have found their own little claims to individuality. Most have very similar names. The two that stand out the most are also those at the head of the bunch, making sure that they're all able to take care of themselves when left to their own devices. Old Wayne says they're not ready yet, and so, it falls to the toughened Wayne that had only just made it upright before the first 'xylem was erected, and a twin from the same hatching that had found her own identity and started to tailor her own clothes. The former is hanging out near the ocean cliffs with a juice box in hand and his legs hanging over the edge, watching the water and perhaps dissociating a little bit while on a break. Nearby, a larva meanders back and forth, just seeking to be close to someone else while it suns.
What: Memory share reality funk, for those that are more into the chiller end of poking brains
When: Early-Mid March
Warnings: N/A, will update as threads progress
The cracks in reality seem to gather where he passes by most frequently, usually in the highest density around his cabin, and the buffet. The colors that peek from inside are soft, pastel yellows and oranges, pinks and blues, and if one is to get close enough to them to investigate, they might hear some pretty sick guitar riffs, a result of the thing most prevalent in his mind lately, as they're being dumped into a reality very much like the man himself: soft and squishy-looking, with mild weather and a spectacular view of the surrounding ocean. You have arrived on an island chain, in the middle of a deeply blue, weirdly reflective ocean, and in the distance you can see an edifice. Everything here seems by and large pretty peaceful.
You might look down to see some changes to yourself. Perhaps not your clothes, but maybe your shape, or the texture of your skin. Do you still have the same number of limbs? Are there more? Are there less? Have you turned a color? Have you sprouted horns in any configuration? Are you now yet another Wayne? No matter how you might have ended up...
1. The Garden [Closed, for Fio and ??]
Wayne seems busy, moving back and forth from his house out to his garden. There are a few tools sitting on the ground outside the low wall, some dirty gloves over the top of it, and there are sprouts of plants already coming up in one half of the plot that he's working on. He's clearly been out here for a little while already, his preoccupation half borne of exhaustion.
A cat sits on top of the wall. It watches him moving back and forth across the plot that he's preparing for another row of vegetables. It looks smug. That's probably just its face.
Wayne pauses when he's deposited a sack that could possibly be soil, or fertilizer, or whatever this world's equivalent might be, standing straight and stretching his arms out behind him with a soft groan and a pop of the joints. His expression slackens when he spots a visitor, one hand coming up in an easygoing wave.
"Sup?"
2. The Afterlife [Closed, for Nobunaga and César]
The beach is kinda nice. If you like red water and random fish on the shore. The sand underfoot holds the shape of footprints even better than normal wet sand, and the few denizens of the realm seem largely content to keep to themselves. One fish might explain that its seen people making sand castles and how pleasing an activity it seems to be, even when the tide inevitably comes to wash them away. Down the beach, further away from the little crystal complex, Wayne is hanging out with another fish, holding idle conversation with it while he builds a sand castle himself.
Or, it would be a sand castle, if not for the buildings that he's constructed all around himself, carefully sculpted until it's become more of a small citadel. He probably shouldn't be spending as much time here as he is right now, but there's a certain reluctance that comes with the fact that if he simply goes back out there again, alone and unprepared, he will once again be reduced to goo. Not a pleasing prospect.
3. The Airship [Closed, for Security and ??]
Wayne and his crew are setting up for departure. The newly-acquired airship is spotless after having been grounded after the initial fall of Lord Gibby, Blerol's officers taking good care of it in the event that it would be necessary to deploy again. Now, after the solid done for him by Wayne and his crew, and being made more fully aware of the terrible situation presented by the return of Gibby and his cult, they're preparing to head out and gather resources, get in touch with the sages and with the Monitor, and attempt to find more information on the cult itself to be able to actually stop it permanently, since it apparently just didn't take last time.
Hopefully anyone else coming along with them has been informed of the situation. Otherwise, it's going to fall to Wayne and his crew to do the explaining. Which means going and attempting to catch one of them after they've settled in with their supplies, topped up the pneumataphores of the ship, and set a proper course. They just...have to decide what their course should actually be. There's so much to do, and not enough time to sit around and talk about it all.
4. The Concert [Closed, for Ava and ??]
It's been a while since they've had a show this raucous. Usually the people that come out to see Moonage Lobotomy are a chill bunch, but now the crowd is pressed right up against the stage, watching the Crew with an energy borne of having finally been allowed to snap out of the intense fugue state brought on by the Hylemxylem's signal. They're happy, the monstrous and humanoid alike crushing up against each other and getting absorbed in the music that has only gotten better in the last half dozen cycles.
Wayne sits on the edge of the stage when it's all over, shaking hands and getting hugs, pressed against his best friend's side while the others rest and talk with others in the audience. There's mention of new merch that will be coming out soon and, when the group starts to disperse to go and get some fresh air, Wayne has his arms out wide, looking out toward a figure he recognizes, a neighbor or perhaps a friend from the City, grinning more widely than most ever see.
"Heeeey you made it!"
5. Waynehouse [OPEN!]
It's nice out here. Quiet, most of the time. There's a breeze off the ocean, a beach where the Larvae congregate to be looked after, a field where there's almost always a group of Waynes in various stages of their training occupied with drills to keep them sharp while they prepare for the tasks that Old Wayne might send them out on, and at the top of the House, Old Wayne himself overseeing the place from his shaded perch where he'd settled in before he could no longer easily move under his own power.
Some Waynes are utterly identical, others have found their own little claims to individuality. Most have very similar names. The two that stand out the most are also those at the head of the bunch, making sure that they're all able to take care of themselves when left to their own devices. Old Wayne says they're not ready yet, and so, it falls to the toughened Wayne that had only just made it upright before the first 'xylem was erected, and a twin from the same hatching that had found her own identity and started to tailor her own clothes. The former is hanging out near the ocean cliffs with a juice box in hand and his legs hanging over the edge, watching the water and perhaps dissociating a little bit while on a break. Nearby, a larva meanders back and forth, just seeking to be close to someone else while it suns.
no subject
"Yeah dude, we gotta have each other's backs. Old Wayne's setting up a proper network to be able to communicate with Lord Blerol too so we'll have the support of New Muldul soon and be able to expand from there and give 'em the chance to make homes in the city. Got contacts with the college there and everything through Dedusmuln."
Again, as if that name should mean something.
Crichton's reaction to seeing Old Wayne for the first time is brushed past, as Wayne steps forward with a small wave.
"New guy's here, I'm showing him around," Wayne explains, and Old Wayne lowers himself enough to be more level with the two of them. One hand clad in a black glove similar to that that Wayne wears lifts and draws a sigil in the air meant to cause the target to calm, the pluck of a guitar string and accompanying clay-like squiggle fading in the comfortable sea breeze.
"Welcome. Feel free to avail yourself of the facilities while you settle in." After all, this is, for all intents and purposes, one Wayne greeting another. Even if one is all huge and old and wise and intelligent and fucking weird. Now Crichton has more context for when Wayne explained that he had more life cycle to go.
no subject
"Yeah. H-hi." Crichton says with a hesitant little wave.
Oh. Oh, he's coming closer. And raising his hand and making some kind of... sign? Then, whoa. As that sound rings out Crichton suddenly feels like a weight has been lifted off his chest. He can breathe without it feeling so tight anymore. That's... nice, actually. He's much calmer now. Huh.
"Thank you. I... I will. It's been a while since I've been anywhere so peaceful. But, what did you do just now? Was that some kind of spell?"
no subject
"The Proscribed Gestures," Wayne explains, making a sort of twisting motion with his own finger out, a couple of funky little shapes in the air curling into and then out of existence with a similar plucked guitar note. "If you have the appropriate well of Will for it you can learn stuff from the Monitor." Crichton might not, though, if he hasn't had anything to drink in a while, or perhaps a bath. He'd have to point that out too, when they were finally ready to leave him to his own devices.
"If you don't, you can always make good use of the Flesh you have and keep watch over the House here," Old Wayne suggests as he lifts himself back up to settle back again.
"Hey yeah, you can train with Decres," he adds, nudging his elbow against Crichton's arm. "She's better at the fighting thing than I am anyway."
no subject
"Make use of the Flesh?" That sounds... vaguely ominous. "Train? Oh, uh. I'm pretty good with guns already, actually. If that's what you mean?"
Wayne's elbowing makes him smile. This place is so calm and everyone is so willing to accept him. It's starting to, absurdly, feel like a place he could call home. Too bad he can't stay. Right? Then again, he's not sure how to get out of here. He's not really in a hurry to yet, if he's honest with himself. He's been saying he needs a real vacation for years now.
"I'll help any way I can."
no subject
Wayne looks from Crichton to Old Wayne, offering the latter a thumbs-up, getting one in turn.
"Guns, gloves, whatever melee weapons you might want to check out. We'll get you set up as good as we can, dude. If you're good already, maybe you can help some of the others."
The meeting with Old Wayne out of the way, this Wayne can show Crichton around the place as much as he might want to look around.
"You hungry? Kitchen should be totally set up by now, you can grab whatever out of the fridge and then it's whatev."
no subject
Oh, God, the thumbs up. It's very cute, somehow, despite Old Wayne looking like an eldritch abomination.
"You mean, like, giving lessons? Sure. I guess I could do that."
Crichton will eagerly tag along, starting to feel more at home with this place despite the absurdity of it. Their hospitality rivals that of his down-home grandma, bless her heart. He half expects to find a peach cobbler in the fridge.
"I could go for a bite, sure. Do you want to join me?"
no subject
Wayne's wraps a companionable arm around Crichton's shoulders. "Let's do it, man."
He chatters easily about the training drills that the others have started doing down in the field on their way to the kitchen, which is a surprisingly open affair, though it doesn't have a lot going for it outside of a pretty big refrigerator. This, he would open to retrieve an oddly-shaped juice jug, as well as a burrito wrapped in foil. He hops up onto the counter to wait for it to warm up in the microwave.
Foil and all.
no subject
"You know..." he says, sounding stupidly like he's on the edge of tearing up. "You got a really good thing going here. Really. You don't know what a safe haven like this means to someone like me. You and Old Wayne and everyone are pretty cool. Makes me wish I never had to leave." He' just so tired of the stress, of running, fearing for his life. It's going to come back for him eventually but... hell. He hopes not before he gets a snack and maybe a nap. A really nice long care-free nap.
no subject
"Hey dude, we're glad to have you here. I don't think we're goin' anywhere for a while, short of someone deciding to sink the island or whatever. You're welcome to hang now and then come back whenever." Sure in a couple of cycles things might be a little bit stressed, but all hands on deck would be better than being left alone right?
The microwave chimes, and Wayne twists in place to retrieve the burrito, lightly steaming in its foil. He holds it out to Crichton to take, figuring he could just nuke another for himself.
no subject
"I love it here," he says once he gets himself composed enough. By that point half the burrito is gone. Wish I could stay forever." If only he could. But, alas, the memory is already starting to dissolve. Everything good must come to an end.
no subject
He smiles, soft and reassuring, leaning his weight forward on his elbows and looking Crichton in the face.
"Forever's a long time and the world's pretty big, man. It'll appreciate the sentimentality."
As the memory fades out, Wayne continues to chat, idly mentioning other places that he's heard of and people that he knows out there in the world. The college, the juice ranches, the ruins, the ocean. The memory of the conversation carries on even while Crichton is deposited back in the buffet where he started.
no subject