06-13-2016, 02:35 AM
The healer looked back at him with a quizzical glance.
“Huh? Do you mean the mansion? It’s not really a tower… at any rate, its mine.” She gave him a slightly tired grin “Welcome to the world of Plastic Beach!” she said, “I’ll see if anyone has scrounged up some food for you yet. Frankly I think some of them will be surprised to hear your still alive!” With that the young woman left the hut out into the early pre-dawn air, and the Sage was alone once again.
He allowed his over-wrought body to relax, but kept himself from actually going under, there was too much he needed to deal with right now. As the first fingers of the sun began to creep into the window of the bungalow, the memories of his previous island journey began to reappear with new clarity. The ships, the old woman, that faceless pair of eyes that had attacked him, it was all bizarre beyond imagining. That island must have been huge, and the sheer number of ships found there… it boggled the mind. The woman had said something before he left, talking about fires and words. As he sailed away, hadn’t he become incredibly ancient? He glanced down, remembering distinctly seeing a beard in the flash of the storm that had been raging overhead. But now there were no long white tangles laying on his chest, only the torn and salt-encrusted garment he had made for himself before he left. Had it been a dream?
Remembering suddenly, he began to search his person for the letter he had taken from the wreck. With a pause, his fingers found what was unmistakably the soaking wet remains of a leaflet. Then it had to be real, all of it… right? With a renewed interest he sat up, and began pouring over the note, attempting to gleam any inkling of significance from it. The paper was in terrible shape, though that was only to be expected after the trip it had taken. Water never just leaves; it always takes a little bit away as well. Still, the paper had been well-crafted, and in the light of the strange lantern he could still make out sections of the note.
The man, Jadeveon Clowney, was stuck in Cinnibar Island, with few men and few supplies. He had barely made it through the blockade that surrounded the island. He had supposedly determined the likely coordinates for what he claimed was a piece of a star. It seemed strange to the Sage that the man would be so interested in a meteorite, but the tone of the letter strongly suggested that this development would be of interest to his superiors, and the order which they were a part of. He and his bodyguards were trapped on the island, without the means to actually pursue the discovery he had been sent to make. The Sage felt a twinge of pity for the man, arrogant wizard though he likely was. And from the tone of the letter, this artifact was powerful and important enough to be worthy of his attention. The world may be strange, and his current journey had been less than smooth, but it was not so different from his own.
An artifact that was worth something to people in power, was worth more to the one that had it.
The wizard was cut-off, desperate, in need of allies. This was something that the Sage could leverage. But he would need to find this Cinnibar Island first, and he was lost on an island that could be frankly anywhere. He needed a reliable guide to the islands, or at least someone to get him to Coasta del Sol. Even as the thought crossed through his head, there was a sharp rap on the door, and a stranger walked in with a tray of food. The Sage accepted the tray readily, and ate as fast as he could while keeping up some pretext of civility. The stranger sat for a moment, then spoke, “There are dangerous folks in these seas, by the way… names are helpful things.” The Sage looked up with a feigned surprise, of course you’re suspicious of me, I just washed up on the shore with a bloody arm. Give me a moment to eat… He finished the food in his mouth before answering. “I am merely a humble sage, who ran afoul of pirates in his journeys.” Lou gave him a look as he returned to his food.
“Sure, and I like to play some soul in my spare time. Miss Noodle says she’s pretty sure you’re a prime, like her. Now I don’t know a lot about all this prime and secondary stuff, but Miss Noodle… let’s just say she can do some things that you wouldn’t think possible.” The Sage watched the musician as he continued, utensil straying to the bowl of soup at every available opportunity. “So if you’re also a prime or whatever, and you can do the same things she can? I think I need to know a little more than that, pal.” The guitarist finished staring the Sage down pointedly. Let’s see, how truthful shall we be with you, sir? Are you feeling particularly discerning today?
“Very well, I have recently left Coasta del Sol, en route to Cinnibar Island. I was… intercepted…by a band of pirates before I even made it to the blockade. The captain had some weapon that I’d never seen before, and I was struck with it in the arm. After a storm destroyed our ship I… made my way here. Is that a sufficiently elucidated explanation for you?” He asked, the slightest hint of contempt slipping through his honeyed tongue. Sloppy, that’s not how you make friends… that’s how wizards behave. He gave Lou Reed an appraising glance as he returned his attention to his rapidly cooling soup. The musician seemed to be mulling over the story, trying to determine which of the half-truths he was going believe.
After a time, the guitarist looked back at the Sage, who had found the bottom of his bowl. “And you are going to Cinnibar Island because why, exactly?” well, we’ve taken more than a sip of the skeptic bottle. The Sage sucked his gums for a moment, he hadn’t waited for the soup to cool at all, before answering. “I have business with an astronomer there… I am afraid I will not tell you any more than that. As the matter is of a confidential nature.” Lou gave him a look, which the sage pointedly ignored before continuing, “Yoou wouldn’t happen to have means for me to get to Cinnibar Island would you? I’m not currently sure how I will get there.”
The guitarist huffed “The only one of us here that knows a ship is miss Noodle herself. Now I can’t speak for her but…” Lou broke off as the healer, Noodle, entered the bungalow. “What am I doing?” she asked, having heard only snippets of the conversation as she approached.
The Sage placed his cleaned-out bowl on the table beside him. With slight effort, he moved himself into a sitting position. “Noodle, is it? Would you be able or willing to take me to Cinnibar Island? I have pressing business there.”
“Huh? Do you mean the mansion? It’s not really a tower… at any rate, its mine.” She gave him a slightly tired grin “Welcome to the world of Plastic Beach!” she said, “I’ll see if anyone has scrounged up some food for you yet. Frankly I think some of them will be surprised to hear your still alive!” With that the young woman left the hut out into the early pre-dawn air, and the Sage was alone once again.
He allowed his over-wrought body to relax, but kept himself from actually going under, there was too much he needed to deal with right now. As the first fingers of the sun began to creep into the window of the bungalow, the memories of his previous island journey began to reappear with new clarity. The ships, the old woman, that faceless pair of eyes that had attacked him, it was all bizarre beyond imagining. That island must have been huge, and the sheer number of ships found there… it boggled the mind. The woman had said something before he left, talking about fires and words. As he sailed away, hadn’t he become incredibly ancient? He glanced down, remembering distinctly seeing a beard in the flash of the storm that had been raging overhead. But now there were no long white tangles laying on his chest, only the torn and salt-encrusted garment he had made for himself before he left. Had it been a dream?
Remembering suddenly, he began to search his person for the letter he had taken from the wreck. With a pause, his fingers found what was unmistakably the soaking wet remains of a leaflet. Then it had to be real, all of it… right? With a renewed interest he sat up, and began pouring over the note, attempting to gleam any inkling of significance from it. The paper was in terrible shape, though that was only to be expected after the trip it had taken. Water never just leaves; it always takes a little bit away as well. Still, the paper had been well-crafted, and in the light of the strange lantern he could still make out sections of the note.
The man, Jadeveon Clowney, was stuck in Cinnibar Island, with few men and few supplies. He had barely made it through the blockade that surrounded the island. He had supposedly determined the likely coordinates for what he claimed was a piece of a star. It seemed strange to the Sage that the man would be so interested in a meteorite, but the tone of the letter strongly suggested that this development would be of interest to his superiors, and the order which they were a part of. He and his bodyguards were trapped on the island, without the means to actually pursue the discovery he had been sent to make. The Sage felt a twinge of pity for the man, arrogant wizard though he likely was. And from the tone of the letter, this artifact was powerful and important enough to be worthy of his attention. The world may be strange, and his current journey had been less than smooth, but it was not so different from his own.
An artifact that was worth something to people in power, was worth more to the one that had it.
The wizard was cut-off, desperate, in need of allies. This was something that the Sage could leverage. But he would need to find this Cinnibar Island first, and he was lost on an island that could be frankly anywhere. He needed a reliable guide to the islands, or at least someone to get him to Coasta del Sol. Even as the thought crossed through his head, there was a sharp rap on the door, and a stranger walked in with a tray of food. The Sage accepted the tray readily, and ate as fast as he could while keeping up some pretext of civility. The stranger sat for a moment, then spoke, “There are dangerous folks in these seas, by the way… names are helpful things.” The Sage looked up with a feigned surprise, of course you’re suspicious of me, I just washed up on the shore with a bloody arm. Give me a moment to eat… He finished the food in his mouth before answering. “I am merely a humble sage, who ran afoul of pirates in his journeys.” Lou gave him a look as he returned to his food.
“Sure, and I like to play some soul in my spare time. Miss Noodle says she’s pretty sure you’re a prime, like her. Now I don’t know a lot about all this prime and secondary stuff, but Miss Noodle… let’s just say she can do some things that you wouldn’t think possible.” The Sage watched the musician as he continued, utensil straying to the bowl of soup at every available opportunity. “So if you’re also a prime or whatever, and you can do the same things she can? I think I need to know a little more than that, pal.” The guitarist finished staring the Sage down pointedly. Let’s see, how truthful shall we be with you, sir? Are you feeling particularly discerning today?
“Very well, I have recently left Coasta del Sol, en route to Cinnibar Island. I was… intercepted…by a band of pirates before I even made it to the blockade. The captain had some weapon that I’d never seen before, and I was struck with it in the arm. After a storm destroyed our ship I… made my way here. Is that a sufficiently elucidated explanation for you?” He asked, the slightest hint of contempt slipping through his honeyed tongue. Sloppy, that’s not how you make friends… that’s how wizards behave. He gave Lou Reed an appraising glance as he returned his attention to his rapidly cooling soup. The musician seemed to be mulling over the story, trying to determine which of the half-truths he was going believe.
After a time, the guitarist looked back at the Sage, who had found the bottom of his bowl. “And you are going to Cinnibar Island because why, exactly?” well, we’ve taken more than a sip of the skeptic bottle. The Sage sucked his gums for a moment, he hadn’t waited for the soup to cool at all, before answering. “I have business with an astronomer there… I am afraid I will not tell you any more than that. As the matter is of a confidential nature.” Lou gave him a look, which the sage pointedly ignored before continuing, “Yoou wouldn’t happen to have means for me to get to Cinnibar Island would you? I’m not currently sure how I will get there.”
The guitarist huffed “The only one of us here that knows a ship is miss Noodle herself. Now I can’t speak for her but…” Lou broke off as the healer, Noodle, entered the bungalow. “What am I doing?” she asked, having heard only snippets of the conversation as she approached.
The Sage placed his cleaned-out bowl on the table beside him. With slight effort, he moved himself into a sitting position. “Noodle, is it? Would you be able or willing to take me to Cinnibar Island? I have pressing business there.”
If history is to become legend, it first must be recorded.