timidtwin: (Journey)
[personal profile] timidtwin
[Hello, Makoto, welcome to the Nowhere Islands. That's where you are right now. Why? Nobody can tell you, but you're here so you might as well make the most of it. In fact, you're standing on the outskirts of a small town once known as Tazmily Village. It's grown quite a bit from it's humble beginnings over three years ago - a time when there was no money, no Pigmask soldiers roaming around and nobody had the faintest idea what a 'Happy Box' was. Now? The buildings had grown, soldiers had intermingled with the people to enforce their new rules (everyone needed a Happy Box, don't you want to be happy?) and a new currency had been introduced known as DP or Dragon Power. There's even a frog driving around in a tiny red convertible.

If you look around you'll see a man in desert garb trying to rally the townspeople and keep them under the spell of his new merchandise. There's a new hotel, a bakery, an item bazaar and the mayor's huge hotel to be found as well.

There's also a large brown dog running straight towards you and he seems to be barking a lot, stopping as he gets close and wagging his tail. Luckily his owner isn't far behind but being a young boy, he hasn't quite caught up yet...]
rebuiltspring: (one chance to fuck up their lives)
[personal profile] rebuiltspring
[ it's cold. freezing, in fact, to the point where it could be life-threatening to stay out in the open for too long without wrapping up warm against the bitter cold. Iria was a beautiful city, in its time, and there are still echoes of that beauty even now, among the rubble of shattered houses and theatres scattered among the tiles of the city's streets. the wind's chill cuts through any available opening, and sheets of ice hang suspended between the gaps of buildings, or coating the surfaces of bridges, windows, roofs. snow eddies around corners, and occasionally children use it to have snowball fights; there are still fleeting moments of merriment to be found even now.

Astor breathes on his hands and stamps his feet to warm them, loitering outside a museum. the fledgling ironbird perches on a ledge nearby, alternately watching him and keeping a lookout for anyone approaching, as if guarding him. nice of it to do that, Astor thinks. he's still not sure where the creature came from, or why it's so attached to him - he's never seen anything like it during his time spent as an envoy-cum-spy in Iria, or in any other system he's been shuttled off to, for that matter. but it already seems bizarrely affectionate towards him, and in a place like Iria's become - well, that's no small thing.

idly, he ponders what to do now; he can hear the sounds of a riot a few blocks away, probably over smokewater again, and frowns; no doubt the Ocular Guard will be there in a few minutes in an attempt to "keep the peace". Astor is not fond of the Ocular Guard. not that he's fond of the riots either, but the guard seem to care less about the well-being of Iria and its people and more about their own agenda, or so it seems to him from what little intel he managed to gather before the Winterstrike hit.

maybe he should make himself scarce. he was supposed to meet up with a contact from the Society later, anyway; it wouldn't hurt to get there early. ]

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