Fablelands mods (
fablemods) wrote in
fablelands2018-08-27 11:34 pm
TDM/September.
![]() Once upon a time, in a land far, far away... ![]()
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![]() Once upon a time, in a land far, far away... ![]()
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[it may not be the strangest place he’s ever woken up in, but it’s certainly the most unexpected. it isn’t the metallic surface of the ship he'd been clinging on to for dear life. isn’t even a trash-filled alleyway in queens. it’s…a forest. one that makes him think of camping trips with ben. of field trips to state forests. but he’s alone here. alone, and something feels wrong. off in a way that has nothing to do with his senses, and everything to do with his lack of memories. of him not knowing how he got here in the first place.
or why.
sitting up, peter takes a few moments to try and get his bearings. to pat himself down and make sure that, yep, he’s still in one piece. somehow. another few beats, and then he’s scrambling to his feet, eyes flicking around in a panic because where is everybody?
…
it’s almost an hour before peter finds his way to the lake, his suit swapped out for the clothes in his pack, and gaze constantly flicking back towards the trees. there’s something out there, and something tells him that now isn’t the time to go find out just what that is.
so instead, he heads as close to the water as he can get, tracking a slow path around the edge of the lake in the hopes of stumbling across a familiar face. or perhaps just an answer or two.
…a boat wouldn’t go amiss either.]
[since arriving, peter has been on edge. that constant feeling of being watched, of having something following him around is something he can’t shake. can’t ignore. he’s spent days wandering the island, doing his best to try and find some kind of clue as to where he is. why they’ve been brought here. but magic is something he’s only recently experienced first hand, and it’s far from being familiar to him yet. it’s one thing to see people like wanda and doctor strange do things beyond the realms of science. but it’s another to have to try and explain it. to work out how to use it to his benefit here.
(he really needs to find a magic user.)
at the start of the week, peter can be found continuing his explorations, a map slowly being formed on the wall of the cabin he’s (semi) claimed a bed in. whether it’s unofficially become a joint effort or not with the other people who live there, he doesn’t know. but the map looks different every day, and he knows he isn’t the only one making changes to it.
it’s over a week later though that the map has its largest changes made, and peter definitely isn’t to blame here. not with the set of claw marks gouged into the wall. the map may be destroyed now, but that really isn’t his biggest concern here. not when someone, or something, has decided to leave a calling card like that.
by the end of the second week, peter is nearing his breaking point. no matter how much he tries to stay awake, tries to keep watch over what’s happening, he can’t be everywhere at once. can’t really keep his eyes open for as long as he’d like when he’s running on such a limited amount of food here. so waking up to find the remains of may’s sweater bundled at his feet brings a cold sense of dread to him. of panic.
don’t mind the teenager huddling in the corner as he fights to remember how to breathe again.]
Want something else? Hit me up atrebelled for a starter or leave something here.
[ he wrenches himself off the ground with a violent snap, blinking his eyes unseeingly before rubbing at them to try and bring the world back into focus. ]
Crash landings really need to come with a gentle cycle.
[ he murmurs, rubbing at his neck. where's his team? he remembers a moment later that it was only drax, mantis and himself, rocket and groot having gone with that super dumb and not at all handsome thor guy, and gamora- he'd find her. he'd always find her. ]
Okay, Morons, Olly olly oxen free! [ he yells before reaching behind him to push up off the ground only to be met by a backpack under his hand. what the...? ] Okay, who left their... bag.
[ he looks around before digging through the thing, throwing things carelessly behind him. wooden disks? useless. snacks? less useless. good looking out, whoever you are. his walkman? wait. why is his stuff in here?? there's also a tiny sapphire frog, like the same one he buried with yondu. he takes it out and swallows. this is starting to really freak him out. he sets his personal items down more softly and dives back in, ripping open the leather pouch and immediately cutting his finger. ]
Who the hell does that? Ow. A-holes. I really need to stop gettin' kidnapped already.
[ it seems like it's on him at this point by now. and he can only really think of one person who wants to kidnap him. the thought makes his blood run cold. he sticks his bloody finger in his mouth before finally getting to his feet, glancing nervously around. ]
[ something wakes him up, face dripping with sweat. he edges towards the door on bare feet, hearing the scratching and not all that eager to find out what's making the sound. still, he's the captain. he has to be the brave one, right? peter gulps and shoves the door open and - nothing. he's greeted with the cool air of the night and a whole lot of nothing looking back at him. peter starts to breathe a sigh in relief when he catches sight of the bloody claw marks on the door and throws it shut with a loud slam. loud enough to likely be heard by neighboring cabins. ]
Wrong Kevin Bacon movie. Wrong Kevin Bacon movie.
[ just give him a minute to not flip the eff out when you come to check on him... ]
[ once it becomes clear he's not immediately getting out of here, peter loads up his pack and sets out to explore as much of this unfamiliar planet as possible. it seems uninhabited save for the people inexplicably dropped here, but that seems highly unlikely for the infrastructure in place. and the terrain reminds him of earth, it makes him want to return more than ever before. feel free to encounter him anywhere along the way!
there's nowhere that's off-limits for him and he walks often from sun up until sundown, often making camp by one of many bodies of water. he always ends up at the same place, however, something about it intriguing him more than any other location: the wishing well. peter thinks it reminds him of stonehenge - some mystical place that should make him feel some type of way. when he peers into the waters around it and notices the wooden disks like the ones in his pack he's rifling through to tear one out. huh. ]
[ Honestly, Dorian would be more upset but that was the best sleep he’s had in weeks. There’s something to be said for not being stuck in the depths of the Emerald Graves with a tree root digging in to your back and the Inquisitor’s snoring ringing in your ears. There’s a moment of delicious enjoyment as he stretches luxuriously, relishing in the feeling of a bloody good night's sleep before –
He jerks awake, like a mis-step climbing a flight of stairs, with a horrible feeling of what he can only call oddness. There’s grass where there should be a bedroll, a leafy canopy where there should be a tent. His breath catches in his chest as he thinks, hard and fast, and digs his fingernails in to his palm until he’s sure he isn’t somehow still asleep.
But no, here Dorian is, jolted awake in an idyllic little woodland glade with somebody’s ugly bag under his head and the onslaught of nature all around him. He stares at the (disgustingly lovely) wooded glen that surrounds him with a look of incensed suspicion before announcing with crystal-cut sharpness: ]
Oh, yes. Haha, very funny.
[ Because this is obviously a joke, isn’t it? Sera’s handiwork, most likely. They’ve taken his tent and moved the campsite and in two minutes time Sera’s going to fall out of whichever tree she’s hiding in and give the whole game away. A stupid prank and nothing more.
...Hopefully. ]
[ Right. Fine. Maybe it isn’t a prank after all.
Ten minutes later Dorian finds himself on the shores of a vast lake with an expression of mystified annoyance. Normally he finds knotty little problems like time travel and rifts in the fabric of reality are fun, but not this one. This one is aggravatingly confusing, all the more so for how very painfully alone he is.
At least the view isn’t bad. There are plenty of trees for people who like that kind of thing; a rather elegant castle that looks like it might hold some kind civilised life; a pretty lake that would probably look prettier if Dorian wasn’t so alarmed by it all. He doesn’t recognise the landscape (except perhaps in that distant way of having a nagging feeling he’s seen something like this in a book perhaps) but it’s all beautifully peaceful.
Deceptively so, apparently, because the water ripples as black-green scales break the surface. Something – something huge and scaled and mean (probably) – roils the water as it lurks beneath the glassy water. ]
Oh, well that's wonderful. [ Dorian bites out waspishly, gesturing as the creature – whatever it is – dives back in to the depths. ] A monster in the middle of the lake, of course! Because crossing it couldn’t be simple, could it?
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