RP: The Silent Horizon Find My Way

[Andrew]

RP Date

Unknown

RP Location

Unknown

It was dark. It was cold. It was loud. Metal on metal, the sound of a sword pulled from it's sheath. The fear it was so intense, it made him breathless. It was something that someone so young should never have to face. Something had gone wrong with it all, the supply of information corrupted or perhaps they truly were barbaric and only capable of being violent. "Captain, are you sure we should do this?" The sounds of the place seemed unreal as the sound of that blade as it moved through the air, whispers of corruption and deceit grew more and more faint. Warmth like that of a heartfelt hug, "Hide the body their delegation will be back soon...We control when his father learns of this."

It was dark again, the sound of the wind screamed from what seemed as if it was all around him. He felt his body in midair just for a second before there was a hard drop. He opened his eyes and then almost immediately he wanted to close them again, the smoke stung his eyes. He looked around, the shuttle cockpit was in shambles, wiring harnesses hung from the ceiling and conduits smoldered thick black smoke that was mostly being sucked out the starboard side of the shuttle. A secondary explosion rattled through the shuttle and he looked at the smashed controls unable to do anything, the mindhive was silent. The other two passengers were unconscious and maybe that was for the better. The wind continued to roar, debris shook free from the shuttle's frame. He looked out the viewport and watched the pillowy clouds become more dense. It was not long before there was a flash of lightening, the clouds grew darker and finally the rain and hail pelted the broken outer hull.

He caught a glimpse of himself in the glass and seen a man that the boy never knew. How did this happen? Was he about to die? Why? The past seemed so distant. Below he could see the tops of huge evergreens growing closer and closer. The branches scraped against the side of the hull as the shuttle barreled downwards. The angry wash of waves could seen below. The darkness came once more, the splash of water enveloped the ship and there was a moment when he could not draw breath. A loud gurgle and then the motion of the waves took him and lulled him to sleep.

The First Morning​

The sound of the waves returned but they lacked the fury they had before. He felt warmth as the sunshine spread its rays around him. He grabbed around him and felt the warm sand move through his fingers. The cry of birds echoed through the air and his slender pointed ears twitched as a fly tickled the back of his neck which he instinctively swatted at. He pulled himself upwards, his mouth felt as dry as a desert, and the bruises on his side and forehead ached. His vision blurred as he struggled to open his eyes, it hurt at first the sudden illumination almost blinded him a first before his eyes slowly adjusted. Debris of the shuttle was scattered down the beach, the main body of it didn't appear to be in sight unless it had completely come apart. He looked behind him and past the dunes was a thick forest of evergreens.

The cries of the lake birds made his head hurt even more than it already did. He looked down the beach and could see the two others that had been in the shuttle, they were in the sand just as he was. He tried to get to his feet, but he just ached. He didn't remember his legs being this big or his feet for that matter. Other than those minutes of the shuttle coming down, the only he remembered was the time his father had gifted him a place on a diplomatic delegation for his twelfth birthday. He couldn't seem to remember his own name even. He blinked a few times and looked to see what else he could see, down the beach to the west he could see five or six small fishing shanties lined up on stilts, a few overturned boats and further on the silver whisp of smoke from chimneys. To the west, just more forest, same with the south. The wind blew from the north and across the lake, which made magnificent white caps atop of the waves.

"Huw? Aru wie irauw?" ("Hey? Are you okay?) he yelled down the beach as he finally managed to get to his feet and stumble a few steps before he got his balance back. He noticed a decorative chain around his neck, a strange knotted symbol that seemed to be important hung from it. His flight suit tattered and ripped, he certainly would not be winning a fashion award anytime soon. He slowly began to walk down the beach toward the others.

---

"There are many things in the universes that we will never understand..."
"Just because we don't understand them doesn't mean they aren't real..."
"Sometimes that escape comes at just the right time..."

 

[iaincarter]

Before

There was nothing, until there wasn't. What suddenly was, found no recognition within him. An ephemeral experience of sensory stimulus that, much like smoke, slipped further betwixt his fingers the more he tried to grip upon it. There was heat, there was light, there was sound, there was pressure against him. Or was there? Maybe not. If he could just focus enough to make sense of what he did or did not know, if he could just learn enough to say 'here is a starting point' then maybe he could force himself to awareness. Yet, like a drowning sailor caught within the tumultuous waters of the maelstrom, he knew not what was up, nor down nor what was inside or without. Then again, he knew only nothing.

The First Morning

He couldn't have said what it was that he felt first. Only that once again he could feel and think and no longer was he that drowning sailor adrift in a screaming sea of silence. The heat of the sun beat down upon his back, the heat oozing and pooling through his body like a wave of languid honey. He could feel grains of sun-warmed sand shifting under him with each and every slight movement he made. He could hear birds crying on the wing and his ears picked out the susurration of gentle waves as they broke upon the sandy shore ad retreated back to whence they came. He could smell water and, realising he held a great thirst, turned his head towards it.

He groaned, that movement of his head revealing a headache that hung heavily and seemingly grew with each breath he took. Snarling to himself, he forced his eyes open, blinking away the sudden brightness. He brought a hand up to shield his eyes, blinking them in an attempt to speed up the adaptation to the environment. Trying to stand, he made it as far as kneeling in the sand before the accumulated aches and pains became too much for further motion. His eyes looked upon on a face, somehow familiar yet not. It slowly swam into focus and he realised that it was his own reflection he had seen in a reflective piece of debris.

Looking around he spotted more debris dotted along the sand and signs of vegetation, trees and dwellings further away. Any further investigation was halted upon spotting a figure heading along the beach wearing a flight suit that had most definitely seen better days. Looking down revealed that his own sartorial situation left equally as much to be desired for also consisting of a tattered flight suit. He waved in the man's general direction in response to his cry.

"Alozu! I shonr?" ("Alive. I think?") he called out, trying not to wince at the increased thundering of his headache. He tried once more to stand upright, stumbling as his sense of balance took it's time to reassert itself.

 

[GingerGlitch]

Before
Something had happened, then all she knew was darkness. There was no memory of before, no knowledge of the present and for a time she floated in between. A prisoner in her own mind as she struggled to cling to that light in the distance. Clawing towards it seemed like a fruitless effort as she gave chase to the inevitable, there had to be an end to this chasm.

The First Morning
Out of what seemed like an endless eternity she was thrust back into the light. A sharp gasp wretched from her lungs as she broached consciousness. For a moment there was naught but the mere knowledge that she was no longer lost in darkness. As her alertness baby stepped to becoming fully alert she became aware of little things around her. She felt the breeze blowing across her exposed form before sight returned to her eyes. When she regained sight she was in shock, blinking rapidly as she looked at the sky in an attempt to orient herself. Where was she? Her eyes looked side to side from where she lay, forest and waves. Had she been somewhere like this before? It certainly was no place she remembered. Then again she could not even remember her own name. "What the hell happened?" she thought as her hands flexed with reacquired muscle control. "Hells?" she thought as her fingers caressed a warm gritty substance.

The woman flexed her hands into the sand to push herself to a seated position when other voices echoed nearby. Her slender pointed ears twitched as she narrowed in on what was being said. Oh! Someone had asked her something, why would they be talking to her? Were they someone she knew? After a moment of looking at both men she had gathered that they both likely knew of each other at least. They both wore tattered flight suits, though maybe they were just as lost as she. Wait a minute, she was wearing a tattered flight suit as well! What was going on?

Cautiously she pushed herself to a standing position, brushing sand off her body. "I kin's rniw. Whaus's jionj in?" ("I don't know. What's going on?") The woman stumbled as she tried to approach the man with a strange necklace, nearly falling on her rump. A soft grumble escaped her lips while her right palm raised to caress her forehead. What the hell happened? She walked towards the other man that had nearly stumbled and offered her arm in support.

 

[Andrew]

Togi Beach, Shoishuggo​

He reached the male first, the tattered flight suit hung from his limbs like rags not that he was in any better shape. He reached down and helped him to his feet. "Alive is something at least, it could be worse. Our shuttle came down last night, we must of been thrown from the wreck when it hit the water. " he explained the best guess he could give, he knew that when they fell from the sky he had been the only one conscious. His attention was then pulled to the female that approached, "Not really sure what is going on but we were in some kind of accident," he said as he looked toward the fishing shanties that lined the shore. "I have no idea where we are, nothing here seems familiar. Maybe we should check out those shanties? We might be able to find someone that knows more of what is going on." he suggested, the wind still was fairly strong, the last of the night's storm slowly pushing away to the west.

"Um, out of curiosity do either of you know who I am?" he asked hoping they would have the answer to his dilemma. He hoped that they would find someone that knew where they were. The birds continue to call as they performed their acrobatics in the air, they would dive down grabbing the small crab-like creatures that ascended the shore. Then they would drop them on the rocks sending their insides splattering before they would land and gobble them down.

He looked over toward the southwest in the distance, if the shanties didn't pay off there was obvious signs of life from the village as smoke billowed up and out the chimneys of the buildings. He could not shake the feeling that they were being watched, but there was no one in sight other than them.

 

[GingerGlitch]

Togi Beach, Shoishuggo​

The first male that had spoke made it to the other male before she had. Her head swam as she observed both men, looking for clues that would give any information. They were on a shuttle? A single blue eyebrow raised, whatever the case may be, this one knew more than she did about what had happened. Her gaze focused on the pair as one man helped the other up, "We should investigate the shanties. Though we should be careful about our surroundings. There is no telling what's going on here." she responded. The wind whipped her blue hair into her face, causing her nose to wrinkle.

"Uh, I have no idea who you are. I have no idea who any of you are or how we got here. Do you know who I am?" she inquired. It seemed that while the strange necklace bearer knew more about how they got there, he was just as lost as they. She pointed towards the necklace on his neck, "You sure you want that out in the open?" she asked tilting her head to the left slightly. "I have no idea what it means, but drawing attention to yourself might not be in your best interest," her words trailed off towards a crab like creature as it smashed against a rock.

The crab's guts splattered as if some macabre reward for the birds' efforts, or an omen for what might befall them. Her gaze followed that of the necklace bearing man towards the southwest. While it seemed like the obvious idea, something made her hesitant about walking into a village blind. They knew nothing about where they were. They knew nothing about anyone that resided here. Something made her extremely uncomfortable, as if she needed to be cautious about every move. There was something about such peace that made her innately suspicious of what lay unseen. "I think we're being watched," she attempted in a vesper to the two men in front of her.

 

[iaincarter]

Togi Beach, Shoishuggo​

Considering that the presence of the other two was reassuring in its own way he affirmed that maybe, just maybe, there was some truth to the oft-muttered maxim that 'misery loves company'. The other man's explanation of events tracked so far and there was indeed enough debris scattered around to lend it plausibility. Not that he could remember a shuttle ride. Or anything else, really, so he'd go along with it for now and worry about the man's trustworthiness should he later be proven untrustworthy. He couldn't think of any reason not to start their search for information with the shanties but, not wanting to worsen his headache, refrained from nodding his agreement.

"No, I know not who either of you are." He tutted to himself. "I didn't even recognise myself when I saw my reflection in that." He pointed to the debris that had so recently shown a dull reflection of his face. "I look too old - like one of those image editors that artificially age your appearance to show how you'll look at different ages. Or how someone who has been in a coma for decades awakens to a new older, face than that which they remembered." He ran a hand down the side of his face, feeling the stark incongruity between sense and memory.

"Aye, the shanties sound like a good place to start." He agreed. "Although, given the evidence of a local populace, I'm concerned that nobody has come to investigate the crash." He added thoughtfully, wondering at the lack of scavengers, investigators and do-gooders that often rushed to the site of such crashes in the search for loot, scapegoats and survivors respectively.

 

[Andrew]

"Well..." he said, still struggling with the fact he could not seem to remember who he was. "Maybe someone here knows who we are? Either way, I don't think we're going to be too comfortable in these torn up flight suits," he suggested as he playfully flipped the large tear in the chest area of his shirt up and then let it drop down again. He then took off the necklace, and looked at it. "I don't know what this means? Maybe I am the leader or something?" He was going to tuck it in his pocket until he realized those were ripped out too so he put it back on.

"Lets see what is in these little shacks," he said as he led the way down the beach. The waves washed up the sandy shore, leaving a white bubbly surface close to the water's edge. There was various forms of seaweeds and abandoned shell fish home dotted up the reach of the wave's wash. "I can look in this one, why don't you guys try the next two?" he suggested, then walked up the creaking old wooden steps of the stairs and into the shack. It didn't have a door, none of them did -- just a old length of fabric pinned to a line of rope across the top of the door.

The next two shacks awaited the arrival of the other two. Should they decide to check them out they will find a basic layout, a single room with a twin sized bed messily made, a night table beside the bed made in a somewhat familiar intricate style. Various ropes, lines, hooks, and nets were hung on the walls. A closet sat in the left back corner, opposite of the bed on the right side. There was a thick layer of dust on everything and cob webs stretched between the small beams above. It would seem abandoned. The birds continued their fishing for the crab-like creatures that washed up the shore, every once in a while they would here the splatter of one of the crabs being tossed down on the rocks.

There was also a small table to the left of the doorway inside, it had various writing implements, stacks of paper as well as a small gas burner, with a kettle set atop of it. A few tins with snap on lids sat on the far side of the table, the writing on them would seem unfamiliar and unknown to them. The first shack over from the one he took, had a blue and orange color scheme, while the one after that was dark red and black. As the waves came, out further in the harbor a buoy rocked back and forth which caused it's bell to ring in a steady rhythm with the waves. Three more shacks of a slightly different design were beyond those two.

 

[GingerGlitch]

Togi Beach, Shoishuggo - Blue and Orange Shack​

She stood silently, her blue eyes watching as the two men conversed. It seems that none of them knew who they were or who anyone else was. This conundrum puzzled her mind to no end, her thoughts distracted by the constant interruption of breeze blown hair billowing into her sight. While one discussed how old he looked she reached up towards her hair to braid it back out of the way. One less nuisance to worry about, out of the infinite number that lay before them. Her fingers danced along the lower ends of her hair, she finished braiding while she listened to one of the men's stark observance. "Someone could be watching us," she reiterated after her attempts at non-verbal communication had failed. "Nonetheless, it is quite concerning. It makes me wonder if the crash was loud or if this place has some special qualities about it," she tossed the blue braid back behind her so that it did not dangle over her shoulder.

The blue eyed woman looked around at the debris field, her curiosity growing alongside her concern. How could no one have heard the impact? More red flags were added to her growing list of observations about the place. She looked back as the man with a necklace flipped his tattered uniform about. This reminded her that her own covered, well, it covered nothing. It was mere tatters that clung to her shoulders by a wisp of a prayer to a god that did not exist. "If you are a leader, probably not best to outwardly display it until we know a little bit more about what is going on here. Worst case scenario you can hide it in my braid until we find suitable clothing." she said softly just between the three of them.

Her nose wrinkled at the thought of separating from the group, though she did not have enough knowledge about what was going on to put up a fuss. Softly she padded along behind the leader towards the shacks, observing everything her senses were capable of taking in. There was no telling what little detail might come in handy later. While the others pondered about which shacks they were going to take she cast a glance over towards the seaweed and abandoned shell fish homes that dotted up at the limits of the wave's wash. "Why are they empty?" she thought as she outwardly whispered "That's odd." Turning fully towards the shacks she stood back for a moment as she watched one of her companions enter the first shack.

A long curious glance was cast towards the last companion that remained outside. Her gaze towards him conveyed silent worry filled concerns she dare not speak aloud. Well she could stay outside a touch longer and listen for any screams from within the first shack. After all, she wanted to walk around the blue and orange one before she dared enter it. Slowly she approached her selected shack and thoroughly looked over every outside facet. She made a point to look for anything that would seem unsafe or give a clue as to anything that would give them more information as to where they were. All the while cursing to herself about the damned sands squishing between her toes.

She eyed the stairs, knocking her foot against the sides. If it did not give any outward sign of concern she continued on a round outside of the shack going along the right side. She looked over every nook and cranny to look for traps, clues, or other items that might be helpful. Not to mention structural integrity concerns. She knocked on several spots along the side as she walked towards the back of the shack. Her ears twitched as she kept her senses peeled for any sounds of distress or approach. When she reached the back of the shack she repeated the same process as she did for the side. Again she repeated the process for the other side of the shack after finishing up an inspection of the back. When she broached the front of the shack she repeated the same process as she had for the two sides and back. Carefully she put one foot on the bottom step, applying enough weight to ascertain whether it was safe for not to continue. This process was repeated for each of the remaining steps if each step was deemed safe. If they were safe she preceded to the door.

Finally she reached the door to the shack looking over the length of fabric pinned to a line of rope. Softly she placed her hand on the fabric while looking over the entire doorframe. It was quite odd that three shacks stood in such proximity to one another. She kept her ears peeled for sounds from the others or newly approaching parties. After a short glance to the shacks on either side of hers she noticed that there were three more shacks of a slightly different design beyond the ones they now found themselves at. Her eyebrow raised as she turned back to focus on the shack in front of her. She carefully brushed the linen to the side. She did not immediately step in, but instead looked around what she could see from the doorstep. It seemed as though the shelter was abandoned.

She noticed a thick layer of dust and swirled the thin linen a bit to kick some dust up. Hopefully, if there were any traps inside the dust floating about in the air that was freshly agitated might highlight it. If it was safe to enter, she did so. Now inside she tucked the linen up over the rope it was pinned to, that way there would be little chance of surprise guests. Once that was done she turned around to get a more thorough over view of the room. Its basic layout aided a quick analysis of what appeared to confirm her earlier thoughts, it appeared even more so now to be abandoned. Her gaze looked upwards to the beams above, thoroughly looking them over to see if there might be something of use to them behind the coating of cob webs. She proceeded along the wall to her right side, inspecting the lines and ropes as she approached the bed. A few steps away from the bed she knelt onto the dust covered floor to look underneath the bed to see if anything was under there.

Once she had thoroughly looked she stood and proceeded closer to the bed, that is if nothing was under the bed. Each step carefully placed in front of the other, nervous that the floor might give way underneath her feet. It seemed that the twin sized bed had been messily made, she peeled back the covers and looked under the pillows. After she looked under the pillows she removed the sheets and looked to see if there was anything there. Once that was complete she lifted the mattress to see if anything was on its bottom side. She replaced the sheets and bed to their original state once she was finished looking it over. Anything of note was set aside to gather for display to the others. Next she looked to the familiar night table, she could not place what exactly made it familiar.

She looked over and under the night table then knocked along its outer surfaces. If there was anything that looked like it could be opened, she opened it. If there was anything useful, it was set aside along with the others on the bed. She eyed the ropes, lines, hooks, and nets along the back wall, adding anything useful to the pile she had assembled. Each step from the right side, along the back wall to the left side of the shack was taken with care. Her eyes looked along all outward surfaces of the closet as she knocked along its surfaces with one hand. If she could open it, she did so only if it was deemed safe. Anything useful was again added to the stack, separated into categories based on area of the shack, as much as she could on its twin mattress. Once she finished with the closet she closed its doors and examined the decor on the shack's left wall. The same process of acquisition repeated for anything useful that was found. She kept a vigilant ear out for auditory disturbances, new arrivals, her companions or other patterns that her ear might pick up.

As she walked towards the front of the shack she inspected its front facing wall. The same decor was here that adorned the others, anything useful she also added to her assorted piles. This brought her to the small table by the doorway. She knelt to peer underneath to thoroughly look it over before standing. She checked the small gas burner with a kettle on top, though she assumed it to be off she double checked. If it was on, she turned it off. She then turned her attentions to the stacks of paper and writing implements. She organized the implements off to the side opposite the gas burner and gathered the papers in her hands. One after another she looked over each page looking for something, anything that would be of use. She even repeated the process holding them up to the light for anything she might have missed the first go round. Once they had been looked over twice she set them back down next to where she had set the writing implements. She picked up a writing implement and gently tapped on each tin. The writing was unfamiliar to her, she had no way to judge its contents. If they were safe she then picked them up to look at the bottom, then taking a light sniff of each before setting them down. If nothing was glaringly wrong she attempted to open them.

Once her inspection of the shack was complete she peered her head outside to see if the others had finished. She positioned herself at an angle in the doorway so that she could see the other cabins. Every few seconds she shifted to the other side not wanting to have her back any particular direction for to long. Something was very, very odd about this place.

 

[Andrew]

[GM to Taesi]​

As the woman moved cautiously around the shack, the rhythmic sound of the lake's waves washing ashore accompanied her steps. Occasionally, the distant ringing of the buoy's bell cut through the soft hiss of the wind, lending an eerie undertone to the scene. Her thorough inspection revealed no traps ~ only a few forgotten remnants of time: a dirty, cobweb-draped shovel leaning forlornly against the back wall and an empty, dented toolbox shoved to the side, long abandoned and now more artifact than tool.

The shanty’s exterior held no immediate threats, and when she approached the door, her gaze fell on the small interior. Dust and time had left their marks on the structure, the weathered floorboards creaking faintly underfoot as she stepped inside. The faint, constant breeze whistled through gaps between the nearby cabins, setting the linen door covering into a gentle sway, brushing back and forth as if beckoning her to enter.

Underneath the twin-sized bed, she spotted a velvet bag nestled in the dust. When she picked it up, she could feel the spherical shapes of its contents rolling against each other, their weight shifting with the movement of her hands. The faint scent of the lake mingled with the earthy aroma of aged wood as she moved to examine the fishing tackle arrayed on the walls. Nets hung like cobwebs above the table, and small containers lined a shelf, filled with a jumble of tackle~hooks, sinkers, and faded bobbers, meticulously organized despite the room’s overall disarray.

Her attention would likely be drawn downward as she noticed the floor: deep gouges carved into the planks, as if something heavy and sharp had been dragged across them. She knelt briefly to trace them with her fingers, the jagged grooves hinting at untold stories of this forgotten place. Opening the closet revealed clothing that was all too small to be of use, paired with tiny boots collecting dust at the bottom. Yet, on the closet’s shelves, a handful of fishing trinkets and tools gleamed faintly in the dim light, alongside a sharp, ornate dagger. Its intricate design sparked a flicker of familiarity within her, though the memory it tried to surface remained frustratingly out of reach.

As her inspection continued, she found the gas burner to be thankfully off, though the kettle atop it was filled with a dark green liquid. Its scent was earthy and decayed, reminiscent of wet, rotting leaves from a forest floor in late autumn. Beneath the kettle’s handle, she found a lighter~small and well-used, its purpose clear as she flipped it over in her palm. On the floor next to the table was an old bag about 60 cm long and 30 cm wide.

A pile of papers on the table revealed letters exchanged between someone named Melfehil and a lover affectionately nicknamed “His Meat Pie.” She paused to read fragments of their correspondence, the light-hearted affection between them a sharp contrast to the ominous feeling in the shanty. Beneath the letters, she discovered a notice ~ its bolded title catching her eye: Troubled Times. Though she didn’t fully grasp its significance, it hinted at a larger story beyond the immediate mystery. The rhythmic bell of the buoy outside rang again as she concluded her search, her findings organized neatly on the table. The dagger, the velvet bag, the lighter, and the fishing tackle lay alongside the papers she had examined.

Troubled Times​

Dear Mister Dalodmed Hornbeard,

I regret to inform you that the fishing here has taken a dire turn. It's been nearly two weeks since any of us have managed to catch more than a fish or two! Barely enough for our own suppers, let alone anything worth selling. At this rate, I simply can’t afford to continue renting the boat or this shack. The others aren’t faring much better, I’m afraid. It’s as if something has driven all the fish away.

As for the other matter you asked about, there’s been no sign of anyone unusual on the beach. Honestly, I think Padum may need to ease up on the whiskey, his imagination seems to be running wild.

I hope you’ll understand, but I need to take what little is left of my earnings and seek better waters. I wish you the best, and I hope there are no hard feelings.

Respectfully,
Melfehil

Spoiler: OOC

Summary of Items found:​

• A dirty shovel leaning against the back wall, covered in cobwebs.
• An empty, dented toolbox, shoved out of the way and forgotten
• A velvet bag containing spherical objects (exact nature undetermined).
• Assorted fishing tackle (hooks, sinkers, faded bobbers, and lines).
• Nets, neatly hung.
• Small containers for tackle, organized.
• Clothing too small to be usable.
• Tiny boots at the bottom of the closet.
• Various fishing trinkets.
• An ornate dagger, sharp and slightly familiar in design
• A gas burner, turned off.
• A kettle filled with a dark green, earthy-smelling liquid.
• A small lighter, used to ignite the burner.
• An empty bag.
• A stack of letters from someone named Melfehil to their lover ("Meat Pie").
• A notice titled Troubled Times.

 

[iaincarter]

Togi Beach, Shoishuggo - Red & Black Shack​

He half-waved to the others before trudging over to the dark red and black of the third shack, it's colouration of blood and death seemingly apt for their situation. He couldn't help but wonder if such emotive visualisation meant he had been some kind of artist in the life he couldn't remember. Or perhaps someone with a keen understanding of colour theory albeit he really didn't think he felt like an interior decorator. At least, if he was, he hoped he was good at it. Such rumination served him little in the moment though, so he cast the idle thoughts aside to better assess his chosen venue of investigation.

It didn't take long to do a quick once-over of the place and it quickly became obvious why none of the residents had come to investigate the crash - nobody had lived there for a while. It was plausible that the former tenant had been religiously against dusting or cleaning, but simply moving around would have created disturbances in the dust that simply weren't there. He assumed whoever had lived there had worked in fishing, although the writing supplies suggested a general level of intelligence. Or perhaps, given the larger bed, the presence of a second person who was so educated.

Ignoring the ringing of the bell out in the lake and the sound of the birds attempting to crack open their crabs, he quickly decided on a strategy for his searching. First would be a quick check of the fishing equipment hanging on the walls to see if it felt in good enough condition to take along. Having rope for climbing might prove useful, let alone if they needed it to restrain someone for questioning. Anything useful could be thrown on the bed for now - if he didn't find a bag of some kind, he could always tie some of the bedding into a makeshift sack.

Next would be a search of the closet, although he would be careful to stand to the side when he opened it. After all, if the former occupant had taken shelter within and not emerged, he didn't want their corpse falling atop of him. He didn't think it was likely, but his jumpsuit was already ruined enough without getting splattered with decayed corpse juice too. With the closet sorted through, he could move over to check under the bed. Hopefully there'd be no monsters there given how woefully underequipped he was to deal with such. It would be worth giving the night table a quick once-over too.

He'd finish his sweep of the shack with the table beside the doorway. Hopefully the gas burner and kettle would be light enough to take with them, for boiling water if nothing else. Of course, that would depend if there was fuel for the burner somewhere in the shack. He wasn't sure if any of the tins would contain food or drink compatible with their digestive systems, but it might be worth taking some along just in case it was. Similarly, after rifling through the papers for anything that looked useful, he'd grab some paper and writing implements in case they decided to make a map or keep a log of their activities.

Before he left, he'd have to give in to the urge to stomp on the floorboards to see if there were any signs of hidden compartments or trapdoors. Using the table, he could even lift himself up to check the rafters, just in case someone had stored something up there. It was probably worth the effort - given that his worldly possessions started and ended with his tattered flightsuit, just about anything might prove itself useful.

 

[Andrew]

[GM to Seojun]​

As the man stepped closer to the dark red and black shack, the lake's waves washed ashore in rhythmic crashes, their sound blending with the intermittent ringing of a distant buoy bell. The oppressive stillness surrounding the cabin was broken only by the soft rustling of birds scavenging near the beach, their attempts to crack open crabs echoing faintly. The exterior of the shack revealed no immediate danger ~ no traps, just weathered fishing gear hanging haphazardly along its walls. A closer inspection showed frayed nets, an old bucket partially filled with rusted hooks, and a small, broken crab trap tucked under the stairs.

Inside, a heavy layer of undisturbed dust blanketed everything. The air was stale, carrying the faint scent of mildew. The walls were adorned with old fishing tools, including a spool of heavy-duty line, a worn hand reel, and a bundle of rope, which, though aged, seemed sturdy enough for practical use. There were also small jars containing desiccated bait. He would find a folded up fishing net that had very little wear on it, and fishing pole with a bag tied to it that had various hooks and lures. Behind an old life ring that had obviously hung on the wall for a while he would find a pouch with a pile of gold coins and a bunch of rolled up paper currency.

When he opened the closet he found some dusty jars with fruit preserves and other various fruits and vegetables. Whoever had been in the second shanty, had obviously left in a hurry compared to the one which his female companion was searching.

Under the bed was a suitcase, within there was a few sets of well made clothing. It had obviously been hand sewin. It was a bunch of male tunics, pants, socks and belt. The female clothing matched the style of the male's but had obviously a more feminine cut, there was a tunic, pants and a folded up herb bag with nothing in it. There was a few more stray coins in the bag, a rather skimpy bit of female sleepwear and a leather box with a polished gold flute that had inscriptions in a strange language. The nightstand yielded less intrigue: a faded journal, its pages mostly illegible due to water damage, and an empty tin cup.

On the other table, the kettle was empty, and the gas burner was out of fuel. On the table he would find a bunch of letters written in cursive in an unknown language. In this pile there was a note however that he would be able to read, it had a familiar symbol on it which matched the one which hung around his male companion's neck. The letter said, in a language that he would understand.

Dear Padum,

I think they are onto us. They keep sending people around. We noticed a few in Togi this morning. I don't think it will be safe here for long, that or someone else is going to get hurt because we are here. I wanted to thank you old friend for the shelter. We will probably work our way east and see if we can find somewhere safer. We may have to leave n a hurry, if so please feel free to take our stuff. We will come back for you when it is safe.

Your friend always,
Tet

His decision to stomp on the floorboards revealed no trapdoors, but the boards groaned under his weight, some slightly splintered from age, but one kicked loose. Beneath which there was a small locked box, but no key. It would need to be pried open or one would need to be found. Climbing onto the table to check the rafters, he spotted a bundle of cloth tucked away, which, when retrieved, contained a small, rolled-up net and a tin whistle.

Spoiler: OOC

Items found in the second shanty

• Frayed nets
• Old bucket partially filled with rusted hooks
• Small, broken crab trap tucked under the stairs
• Spool of heavy-duty line
• Worn hand reel
• Bundle of sturdy rope
• Small jars containing desiccated bait
• Folded-up fishing net (minimal wear)
• Fishing pole with a bag containing various hooks and lures
• Pouch behind an old life ring containing:
  • Gold coins
  • Rolled-up paper currency
• Dusty jars of fruit preserves
• Other preserved fruits and vegetables
• Well-made male clothing: tunics, pants, socks, and a belt (4 sets)
• Well-made female clothing: tunic, pants, and a folded herb bag (empty) (4 sets)
• A few stray coins
• Skimpy female sleepwear
• Leather box containing a polished gold flute with inscriptions in a strange language
• Faded journal with mostly illegible water-damaged pages
• Empty tin cup
• Empty kettle
• Gas burner (out of fuel)
• Letters written in cursive in an unknown language
• One readable note with a symbol matching that of the male companion's necklace
• Small locked box (no key, needs to be pried open or unlocked)
• Bundle of cloth containing:
  • Small rolled-up net
  • Tin whistle

Daelan​

He carefully combed through the shanty he had chosen to investigate. The small structure bore a striking resemblance to the one his female companion was exploring—weathered, abandoned, and sparse in its offerings. By the time he finished, he’d managed to gather a modest collection of items into a small bag:

• A pouch of old gold coins
• A bundle of blank paper
• A nature guide detailing edible plants in the Togi Region
• An old box of stale crackers
• A water damaged wanted poster that was all blotched out

One peculiar find stood out: a rolled-up, stained wanted poster. However, the water damage had rendered it unreadable, with faces and names reduced to smudges. "Nothing of much value..." he called out as he stepped down the rickety stairs of the shanty, his voice loud enough to carry to the others. "What about you guys? Anything worthwhile? This place seems abandoned." As he glanced around, his eyes caught a faint plume of smoke curling into the sky beyond the trees. His nostrils flared as the breeze shifted, carrying with it the distinct, sweet aroma of burning cherry wood from the west. "I think I found something," he muttered, his tone more serious now, as he gestured toward the distant chimneys.

 

[GingerGlitch]

Togi Beach, Shoishuggo - Blue and Orange Shack​

After a few moments of silence she figured that she should gather the items she would be taking with her into that old bag she found. First she grabbed the shovel that she had brought in with her and set if off to the side, leaning up against the bed. It seemed useful enough, though she certainly would not be jamming it into the sack. If no one else saw the need to bring it along she would likely leave it behind. She turned her attention the velvet bag, opening up to take a peak inside before closing it and putting it into the sack. The contents of Melfehil's notice haunted her, only adding to the pieces of a puzzle scattered across a wide board. "Troubled Times indeed," she thought.

"No sign of anyone unusual. Who's this Padum? Was he the one that had suspicions of oddities occurring here?" she pondered while she looked over the fishing supplies that lay across the bed. Would any of it be useful in taking? There was only so much she could fit in the sack. Only what was absolutely necessary, seeing as they might need things to bargain with a lover's letters could come in useful. Though she was not entirely sure, she put the stack of letters in the sack underneath the velvet pouch. There were three people she'd be interested in talking to if they got the chance. Those being Mister Dalodmed Hornbeard, Padum, and this Melfehil, while not necessarily in that order.

Perhaps this "Meat Pie" would know something, but that seemed unlikely given the light-hearted nature of their letters. All those fishing tools could not go in the sack, but there was that dented toolbox. "Well lets at least gather them and if the others deem them unnecessary, we will go from there." She grabbed the dented toolbox assembling a little bit of all the fishing tools she could that would fit inside. The dented archaic nature made her doubt how useful it would actually be as she set it next to the shovel once filled. "Oh! This is not going in a cloth bag." she whispered to herself adding the lighter to the tool box. No way she was putting that gas burner in a bag either, though she would mention it to her companions. With that her attention was drawn to an eerily familiar dagger she had set separately on the bed, she had a flicker of familiarity when she looked at it. What did this remind her of?

How desperately she wished for some decent clothing right in this moment. It would be a small comfort to have a pocket or something to hide this dagger in, a sheath for it would be better. Whatever it meant to her was just out of reach and it elicited a soft grumble. Carefully she took one of the sheets and wrapped the dagger up. Then she took another sheet and wrapped that around the bundle. There was no chance this, whatever its significance was, was being tossed in with the dented tool box. She closed the toolbox and picked up the bag after gathering it closed. Carefully she managed to carry the tool box and bag in one hand with the bundled dagger held very carefully in her other arm. She handled the dagger almost as if she was afraid it would shatter to pieces and pierce her flesh.

A stomp from the Red and Black shack startled her enough to make her jump. She walked briskly out of the shack she had searched with her spoils in tow as quietly as one possibly could. Her back was towards the ocean, herself firmly several feet away from the shacks. Then she heard a stomp from the shack on her other side, "What the," she trailed off as she quietly knelt to set her stuff down before reaching for the bundled dagger. Her eyes flicked up just as she had reached down to see her companion near the door of the black and red shack. He was not dead and did not look in need of assistance. Her gaze ripped over to the shack opposite hers that the man with the necklace had entered.

He emerged having reported finding nothing of note. "Yes, there's a few things. It seems this place might have been abandoned for a reason and not a good one." she said. Her gaze flicked in the direction he suggested as she clutched the bag and freed the dagger gripping it in one hand with the handle in her hand, the blade carefully pressed flat against the underside of her forearm. Her eyes narrowed as she spoke, "We should really talk first. Even if its brief. " Her suspicions were heightened enough that she positioned herself defensively as her eyes fixated towards the smokey chimneys. Her body language as if she was expecting something to come at them from that direction.