Jacob Stone (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
bookbrawler) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
apocalypsehowcomm2021-08-04 08:50 pm
bookbrawler) wrote in apocalypsehowcomm2021-08-04 08:50 pm
LOG: It's a Seally Good Time
Who: Jacob Stone and you!
When: August
Where: Apartment A3, the General's Store, the Docks/Arcades
Summary: There's an angry seal in the middle of the living room, a saga in three parts. Exploring the town, plus dealing with the consequences of magic and entities
Warnings: Body horror, fear-feeding for the Eye with terror, paranoia/stalking, will update if necessary
A. Warranty Void if Seal is Broken - OTA and to anyone who pops by Apartment A3 -
So he'd managed to hang onto the seal skin. He's not Jones, he's not a thief (stealing artifacts is necessary in their world, okay), but he knows that if this gets confiscated he's probably never gonna get any answers. Besides, Cassie probably would like to get a good look at it, too. Just when he's done studying it. Admittedly he's kind of excited about it, even after the awful experience. It's a real selkie skin, from real selkies! He could learn a lot from this, even if he leaves the science stuff to Cassie...
He closes the door to his room and sets the seal skin out on his bed, and starts writing down the dimensions in a notebook, sketching it out on paper, and making general notes.
The skin starts to curl a bit and he wonders if maybe he should keep it wet, maybe. Will it decompose on its own or is it fueled by magic? His fingers brush the edge of it, smoothing it down, when suddenly it grapples over him, like a venus fly trap snatching up its prey.
"Wh--"
Is the only sound he manages to get out before the skin drags him back into itself, his body all twisted up to fit inside it and he makes a very undignified, high-pitched barking noise. The notebook and pencil tumble onto the floor and he sort of...rolls off the bed, landing with a thump on the ground.
He has to get out of here, find someone to cut him out of this thing and--
...he closed the door to his room, didn't he.
After a good, long, frustrating struggle he manages to open the door with his mouth and galumphs his way over to the living room in search of help.
One might find Jake literally perched on the couch, looking like the world's grumpiest seal. One might find him sprawled out on the floor, barking squeakily in some sort of indignation spiral. One might find Jake trying to sneak into the bathroom because he's supposed to be in the water, right?
He is a very smart Librarian, he swears.
B. The General's Store - OTA
Historian wants to check out a historical sight, news at 11. Jake finds his way over to the store, taking in the architecture and occasionally muttering something to himself about steep roofs and gables and Cape Cod versus Dutch colonial.
If you're unlucky enough to wander close enough to him, he might actually engage with you and start pointing up at the building.
"You know, this reminds me of the Aptucxet Trading Post? The Pilgrims built it to trade with the Wampanoag tribe and the Dutch. It's actually first permanent settlement on Cape Cod. 'Course the building itself isn't original, it's a replica built in the 30's. Did you know that--"
He'll probably keep talking if not gently directed to enter the store.
C. The Docks/Arcades - OTA
The touristy part of town is nice and Jake wanders down here, checking out the restaurants and the kitschy shops, looking to see if any local artists had a shop that he can chat with. And old-timey arcades! He loves those! He'll chatter excitedly to anyone about the history of skee ball and pinball and try out some machines for himself.
In the middle of walking down the docks, he stops in front of a shop with some sad-looking plants in cheap, gaudy painted pots. There are some drooping succulents and the world's saddest aloe vera plant, a rose bush's attempt to live without leaves or flowers, and a ficus bonsai that's barely clinging to life.
"Aw, man, don't--don't do that, does anybody know how to water their plants? Hello!?"
There's an itch in the back of his mind and the longer he stays here the more it's pissing him off. He can almost feel it, how close they are to death, and it's like he can feel how bad off they were. It reminds him entirely too much of being one with the Grandfather tree, when he could hear the voices of the forest. Is he using magic? He can't use magic here, but how can he stop this--
"Can I help you?" It's an older woman who approaches him, friendly and smiling, looking like someone's grandma, and the first thought he has is that strange, buzzing need to scare her, to feed off that fear and he must have looked like all the blood drained out of his face because she looks concerned, moving forward. "Are you all right, dear?"
"Your--you need to water..." he waves a hand at the sad plants almost frantically, backing up, running into another tourist and mumbling sorry as he hurries off into the crowd. He rubs his face, his fading connection to the plants seems to have only made him...hungrier. He can feel it, like a gnawing pit, though in his mind and not his stomach. No, he can't, he can't, it's just gonna feed it, and he can't be part of this.
He stumbles into another person, accidentally spilling the drink they were holding, too wrapped up in his own problems.
"I'm sorry--man, I'm so sorry--"
"Hey, wise guy, thanks a lot!" The dude shoves him, tossing the rest of the cup and its contents on him.
Damn.
Don't do it. Don't do it--
"You really think that's smart? I said I was sorry, and I was even gonna offer to give you a couple dollars for the drink but no, you just had to do somethin' about that, didn't you? I'd warn you about pissin' off strangers. You never know who they might be. They might just be angry enough to jump you when you least expect it. Days later. Could be when you're gettin' back in your car after a trip to the bank. Or maybe at the gas station, gettin' a cup of coffee."
"If somebody does that--if you do that, I'll knock you out!"
"Will you?" Jake says, in that strangely calm voice. "Are you that confident in your own fighting abilities?"
"Course I am! And I got my phone! I'll call the cops!"
"Mm, sure. Let's hope you're fast enough."
It's faint, very faint, but he can feel it. Fear, fueled by some paranoia. The man's too angry to think hard enough to be afraid, but it's there.
And it feels good.
It feels horrifying.
Jake freezes, then quickly turns around without another word.
D. Wildcard - Anything goes! Let me know atindymica or PM!
When: August
Where: Apartment A3, the General's Store, the Docks/Arcades
Summary: There's an angry seal in the middle of the living room, a saga in three parts. Exploring the town, plus dealing with the consequences of magic and entities
Warnings: Body horror, fear-feeding for the Eye with terror, paranoia/stalking, will update if necessary
A. Warranty Void if Seal is Broken - OTA and to anyone who pops by Apartment A3 -
So he'd managed to hang onto the seal skin. He's not Jones, he's not a thief (stealing artifacts is necessary in their world, okay), but he knows that if this gets confiscated he's probably never gonna get any answers. Besides, Cassie probably would like to get a good look at it, too. Just when he's done studying it. Admittedly he's kind of excited about it, even after the awful experience. It's a real selkie skin, from real selkies! He could learn a lot from this, even if he leaves the science stuff to Cassie...
He closes the door to his room and sets the seal skin out on his bed, and starts writing down the dimensions in a notebook, sketching it out on paper, and making general notes.
The skin starts to curl a bit and he wonders if maybe he should keep it wet, maybe. Will it decompose on its own or is it fueled by magic? His fingers brush the edge of it, smoothing it down, when suddenly it grapples over him, like a venus fly trap snatching up its prey.
"Wh--"
Is the only sound he manages to get out before the skin drags him back into itself, his body all twisted up to fit inside it and he makes a very undignified, high-pitched barking noise. The notebook and pencil tumble onto the floor and he sort of...rolls off the bed, landing with a thump on the ground.
He has to get out of here, find someone to cut him out of this thing and--
...he closed the door to his room, didn't he.
After a good, long, frustrating struggle he manages to open the door with his mouth and galumphs his way over to the living room in search of help.
One might find Jake literally perched on the couch, looking like the world's grumpiest seal. One might find him sprawled out on the floor, barking squeakily in some sort of indignation spiral. One might find Jake trying to sneak into the bathroom because he's supposed to be in the water, right?
He is a very smart Librarian, he swears.
B. The General's Store - OTA
Historian wants to check out a historical sight, news at 11. Jake finds his way over to the store, taking in the architecture and occasionally muttering something to himself about steep roofs and gables and Cape Cod versus Dutch colonial.
If you're unlucky enough to wander close enough to him, he might actually engage with you and start pointing up at the building.
"You know, this reminds me of the Aptucxet Trading Post? The Pilgrims built it to trade with the Wampanoag tribe and the Dutch. It's actually first permanent settlement on Cape Cod. 'Course the building itself isn't original, it's a replica built in the 30's. Did you know that--"
He'll probably keep talking if not gently directed to enter the store.
C. The Docks/Arcades - OTA
The touristy part of town is nice and Jake wanders down here, checking out the restaurants and the kitschy shops, looking to see if any local artists had a shop that he can chat with. And old-timey arcades! He loves those! He'll chatter excitedly to anyone about the history of skee ball and pinball and try out some machines for himself.
In the middle of walking down the docks, he stops in front of a shop with some sad-looking plants in cheap, gaudy painted pots. There are some drooping succulents and the world's saddest aloe vera plant, a rose bush's attempt to live without leaves or flowers, and a ficus bonsai that's barely clinging to life.
"Aw, man, don't--don't do that, does anybody know how to water their plants? Hello!?"
There's an itch in the back of his mind and the longer he stays here the more it's pissing him off. He can almost feel it, how close they are to death, and it's like he can feel how bad off they were. It reminds him entirely too much of being one with the Grandfather tree, when he could hear the voices of the forest. Is he using magic? He can't use magic here, but how can he stop this--
"Can I help you?" It's an older woman who approaches him, friendly and smiling, looking like someone's grandma, and the first thought he has is that strange, buzzing need to scare her, to feed off that fear and he must have looked like all the blood drained out of his face because she looks concerned, moving forward. "Are you all right, dear?"
"Your--you need to water..." he waves a hand at the sad plants almost frantically, backing up, running into another tourist and mumbling sorry as he hurries off into the crowd. He rubs his face, his fading connection to the plants seems to have only made him...hungrier. He can feel it, like a gnawing pit, though in his mind and not his stomach. No, he can't, he can't, it's just gonna feed it, and he can't be part of this.
He stumbles into another person, accidentally spilling the drink they were holding, too wrapped up in his own problems.
"I'm sorry--man, I'm so sorry--"
"Hey, wise guy, thanks a lot!" The dude shoves him, tossing the rest of the cup and its contents on him.
Damn.
Don't do it. Don't do it--
"You really think that's smart? I said I was sorry, and I was even gonna offer to give you a couple dollars for the drink but no, you just had to do somethin' about that, didn't you? I'd warn you about pissin' off strangers. You never know who they might be. They might just be angry enough to jump you when you least expect it. Days later. Could be when you're gettin' back in your car after a trip to the bank. Or maybe at the gas station, gettin' a cup of coffee."
"If somebody does that--if you do that, I'll knock you out!"
"Will you?" Jake says, in that strangely calm voice. "Are you that confident in your own fighting abilities?"
"Course I am! And I got my phone! I'll call the cops!"
"Mm, sure. Let's hope you're fast enough."
It's faint, very faint, but he can feel it. Fear, fueled by some paranoia. The man's too angry to think hard enough to be afraid, but it's there.
And it feels good.
It feels horrifying.
Jake freezes, then quickly turns around without another word.
D. Wildcard - Anything goes! Let me know at
indymica or PM!
B. but it was a hard choice to make over other options
He absolutely knew none of this. The information dump had come out of nowhere but, strangely enough, the stylishly dressed mafioso wasn't complaining. In fact, he seemed to be genuinely listening as he gazed up at the structure being talked about. Look more closely, however, and one might catch the twinkle of amusement in the Chinese man's eyes.
So this must be what it was like to go on one of those guided tours. He saw them marching through his turf back home all the time. They were common tourist attractions in Chinatown after all. The thought made his lips twitch in further amusement.
He glanced at the talking man, still going on about architecture and history and whatever else came up. Zhao wasn't interrupting.
How long could this guy go on?
Excellent choice
And he keeps going on. And on. And on.
And on.
"...yeah so the colony needed corn and beans from the Native Americans. But the trading post was kinda far from the colony itself, so there were people there the whole year running the post. A hurricane in 1635 wrecked one of the buildings there and the whole place was eventually deserted in..."
He takes a deep breath, realizing that he's been babbling on for some time.
"...I'm not boring you, am I?"
:'D
This guy had a lot of random facts stuck in that head of his. Zhao couldn't decide if that had use somehow or was just plain ridiculous. Only time would tell, he supposed. For now, it was crazy, scarily impressive.
"Nah, man. Eatin' it right up," he replied in a lazy drawl. His eyes sparkled again with that hint of mischief though, curious to see if the man would notice or just go right back into his spiel of useless information.
no subject
"I am boring you. No, what I should have done was asked if you had any questions."
He still sounds so eager about it, though.
"Do you have any questions about...this stuff?"
no subject
"You're really into this, huh? What made you want to learn all this stuff? Did you just pick it up along the way or was it something like school or work related?"
It was...a lot of information. That seemed completely random to know, too. Zhao had to imagine there was a reason behind it unless the guy was some sort of savant. Or just really bored one day. Who knew.
"I'm not that knowledgeable in American architecture or history to be perfectly honest. Not from around here. Wakatta ka?" Said in the lazy tone of 'ya know?' and fully not expecting anything from it.
no subject
"Yeah, you could say that. History, art, architecture, all of that is my jam." He rubs the back of his head. "Sort of. Read books about it all the time when I was a kid." Reading college-level texts as a little kid, that kind of thing. "The job I have now--" Or at least back home. "--it's definitely work related, but I learned most of this on my own."
"Man, I could tell you everythin' you were ever curious about," he says brightly. "I learned a ton of languages, too. Taught myself Ancient Greek, Latin, the works. Plus modern languages. I can speak Japanese, if you'd like? Wakarimasu!"
His accent is well, not the greatest, his Oklahoma twang still very evident, but he sounds eager enough.
no subject
"Sokka..." After a moment of contemplation, Zhao did in fact switch over to Japanese. Even an American accented Japanese was better than none at all. "I'd like that. I have the feeling I won't be hearing or speaking much of my native language around here."
He smiled and nodded appreciatively. "So you found a job that managed to make use of all your favorite hobby material, eh? That must be nice. What are you some kind of teacher or librarian?"