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Denizens of Reverie may notice something different this morning: It started by getting gradually colder the previous night, and today the entire island is covered with white, powdery snow. Even the jungle has gotten in on the festivities, the boughs of its trees lined with garland and lights and a myriad of small presents resting beneath them. Those waking up today will find a present close by them containing a full set of weather-appropriate clothing in whatever style they prefer: Scarves, jackets, hats, etc and another gift specific to your character.

Should you eat the snow, it tastes like peppermint!

((OOC stuff: Reverie gets a White Christmas! :D Snow will last about a week or two until it all melts and the weather gets warm again. Presents in the jungle will have things like candies, popcorn, even those tiny liquor bottles if that's what your character wants. XD Merry Christmas everyone!))

the latest late intro post ever :c

Sup, Reverie. There is now a disoriented, gangly repilian-looking chick sitting on your beach. She groans, pulls her knees in closer to her chest, presses her palm against her head, and reluctantly opens her eyes.


Gerra sits up slowly, squinting a bit against the sun's glare reflecting off the water, and has her first good look around. Paint. It all looks just like... like something from a movie. Maybe it's a bad trip, or maybe she's fever dreaming. It's kind of pretty for some kind of head problem, though. For a fleeting moment she wonders if she's dead, then decides no, that can't be it, because that wouldn't be fair. She has a kid to look after, god dammit, and there's nothing in the world that's going to--

Suddenly worried, she stumbles to her feet. Fuck this, she can't be sitting around watching the colors shift when she has a little son to look after. Time to find her kid and maybe that handsome jackass she calls babydaddy when she's in a good mood. Knowing Kyle and Skye, they'd head for that town first. Hell, it's what she would do.

She brushes off her clothes and heads for Glaucio.

Bird boy's crash landing

Today those in the area of Paint beach, they might have seen what initially looked like a half drowned mass of pale gray feathers and child wash ashore. As the water gently lapped away his feathers, it would become increasingly obvious that yes, there was in fact a child who lay on the shoreline. His small and battered body in a half curled position, his eyes remained shut.  

Never, in his entire life, had Sinon experienced a dream so lucid.

He could hear the sound of water, he could smell it in the air, he could hear the soft sound of birds... though that may have been his imagination. It was now more then ever that he had grown a special fondness towards birds, now being partially bird himself. The spirit of the water fowl had saved his life earlier that day, and for that there were no words to describe his appreciation.

As he became accustomed to his surroundings he relaxed, and he decided he must have flown far away. In his chaotic state after being nearly mauled to pieces, his mind had yet to completely separate fantasy from reality. Even though it was a dream, he didn't want to open his eyes. He didn't want to be there, to see her, he didn't want his peaceful sleep to turn into a nightmare.

Still, as time distorted itself and felt unnaturaly long, he soon felt the need to take in his surroundings. Opening his eyes slowly, it never seemed to strike him as odd that visually the world looked as though it had been painted. He wasn't quite lucid enough in dreaming to realize that this was abnormal. As the dream quickly became reality he also didn't question why he wasn't in pain from his injuries.

No instead he sat up and looked at the sky vacantly for a painted bird to fly by.
Bulky laptop was bulky. Kaikoura Wolfe's nerd heart bled sadness, but she had to discard it as she backtracked along the painty, sandy trail.

Kai wasn't used to being alone. Ignoring her still-stinging foot, she quickened her step, hurrying onward in direction that had been suggested by the mysterious voice coming at her through the laptop.

Painty grasses scraped and stung her legs through her jeans and she quickly decided that this place wasn't necessarily as soft and bouncy as it seemed. These things felt real. The Shion!voice had sounded real. But how could she be sure how much of this was real? When she tried to think back to the last moment that made sense to her, she had been studying in her crappy little apartment. If she hadn't been a member of a race that had themselves become alien overlords of several distant planets, she would have decided that alien abduction was the most likely explanation. But, no. That thought can't occur to her because humans are The Shit.

The longer she walked, the more her mind wandered. She started thinking about Shion. Why would someone who had just washed up on a strange beach want to walk in the opposite direction of a fairly obvious city in the dista--


Kai's little body hit the ground with a mighty thud. She scrambled around to take stock of what had tripped her, and to her delight found that it had been the manhole of prophesy.

Because she always gets what she wants, Kai picked up a torch and slowly, quietly, cautiously descended into the darkness.

Karkat: Wake up already, asshole.

Just in case you didn't have enough to be annoyed about, you just regained consciousness on a GAUDY BEACH. It's bright and colorful, and you HATE IT ALREADY. Seriously, fuck this place, whatever and wherever it is.

Your HIDEOUS MUTANT OFFSPRING appears to have washed ashore with you. She's STILL SLEEPING. There is no sign of your STUPID MATESPRIT.

It's TOO DAMN HOT to be sitting around waiting for her dumb blind ass, so you pick up the brat, plop her over your shoulder like an ANGRY LITTLE SACK OF POTATOES, and head for the PORT TOWN visible in the distance.

Surely somebody around here can tell you what's going on, how you got here, and what you can do to make this shit stop happening.


With the squirrel gone, the surroundings became the focus. Brilliant pallets of color and light played across the sky, with clouds twisting and churning into surreal sculptures that wafted apart on a moment's notice.

Even the ocean seemed both near and distant. A long blink did not erase the effect, and the artist marveled at such perception that shouldn't exist. Sometimes, the water behaved like mercury, beading and bouncing along the black shoreline in multicolor reflections.

The scenery whirled in a three sixty reminiscent of a bad trip. When the perception of motion ceased, she stood with her back to the ocean, faced with derelict buildings framed by a foggy cityscape. Chunks of concrete and metal railings dangled and twisted apart, degrading sharply and violently in hateful reds and oranges.

Antony recognized these buildings, and the emotion. Her eyes darkened and she bared her teeth, letting out an enraged snarl that brought her to her knees. An entire wall of duplexes tore apart with the sound.

Her hair was a long mess and she shivered against the cold she couldn't not feel exactly. And now... Now her limbs failed to move or work properly. They were heavy with melancholy and loss, too heavy to move alone.

Like the sky, her skin painted pictures and scenes she'd rather forget, the images dragging her further into the sand. Colorful and morbid, deaths and loss dragged across her skin, overwhelming and crippling the squirrel woman.