THE SQUAD GOES HANG-GLIDING ※ TRAVEL LOG

[wildermods]

THE FLOATING ISLANDS

Armed now both with the information from the delegates of all the different lands and with plenty of traveling supplies, the squad departs from Rivendell, following the map Ange got from Tiffany. They’ve been warned that it will be several days before they reach the mountain with the blocked pass and will need to make the decision between trying to magic their way through the snow or going through the dangerous mines. Some of the squad may find the delay a relief, while others may just be eager to get it over with instead of stewing in dread.

For most of them, the travel won’t be particularly comfortable, because the weather here is sunny, warm and even slightly humid - and yet here they are anticipating either a snow-logged mountain or a cold subterranean maze, hauling warm clothing generously provided by the elves. The terrain slopes upwards slightly, and over the first day there’s a clear change in elevation as the air gets thin. Low-hanging clouds rest on the hillside, and whenever the squad has to walk through one the visibility gets so poor that they have to move slowly so as not to run into each other.

Soon, the gentle, gradual hill turns into something far more dramatic, as deep canyons and jagged ridges replace loamy gradients. Sudden drops seem to go down forever, and some ridges need to be scrambled over hands-and-knees. Walking through the occasional clouds becomes not just unpleasant, but actively dangerous, as each step could lead to an endless free fall off a cliff.

Whenever they step outside the clouds, the mountain looms in the distance.

I. Hang-Gliding on the Islands

Eventually, the squad will run into a canyon so wide that there doesn’t seem to be any way around it other than to turn back. The solid ground on the other side is within eyesight, but too far away for just about anyone in the squad to cross without Toothless’ aid.

Which is when they’ll make a fortunate discovery; the upwards wind currents here allow them to float between the patches of solid ground. It’s not an exact science and it’s certainly not flight; the upwards, warm drafts of air buoy people upwards, and then gravity slowly pulls them back downwards. Thankfully, the warm drafts seem plentiful enough that no one seems to be in real trouble of plummeting to their death, but controlling which direction to go in is a matter of developing some skill. Those who figure it out can not only travel over the canyons and gaps, but can even find some joy in this makeshift hang-gliding, swooping down and letting the warm air rocket them back upwards.

Those who really experiment with the air currents will discover that they aren’t the only ones levitating - if one drops a few feet down they can see that what they thought was solid ground is actually floating islands, some small as vans and others so large that they could hold multiple buildings. Unlike the members of the squad, the islands don’t seem to be moved at all by the air currents; instead they simply sit, fixed, like gargantuan stones in a river.

Further exploration leads to treasure troves of natural wonder. The larger islands have caves and tunnels, many of which are filled with strange, glowing flowers and colorful butterflies that seem as ephemeral and insubstantial as breath. Sugar-water drips from stalactites and verdant moss yields small, delicious berry-like fruits.

Other large islands are shaped like massive bowls, with football stadium-sized valleys and meadows. Strange prey animals abound, such as rabbits with wings or antlers that seem entirely unperturbed by the squad’s presence. Swarms of meerkats mill around, sometimes attempting to crawl up on members of the squad and rest in the warmth of their clothing or, more often, eat the supplies.

An impossible, circular river winds through one of the meadows and then meets itself again, somehow still coursing despite at some point having had to go uphill. The water is sweet, clear and cold, as if it just melted from a glacier.

II. The Crows

Members of the squad who go hunting will find that the rabbits and meerkat are pathetically easy prey. However, on some islands the prey animals have unusual protectors: murders of crows that have claimed this food as theirs and theirs alone. While the crows, hopping around on the ground and picking at rocks, are content to let people walk among them, the instant someone makes a move for the rabbits or meerkats the crows launch into an assault.

The crows are vicious; they attack in huge flocks, pecking and clawing straight for the eyes. The smallest are the size of housecoats, and the largest are almost the size of a small adult human. They’ll chase people off their islands or rip them to shreds, whichever comes first.

III. Huddling

Night is decidedly less pleasant than day up here in this high terrain. The temperature precipitously drops, and the cloud-moisture throughout people’s clothes chills to the bone. The scraggly trees are either too green or too damp to make fire with.

The only option seems to be huddling together in groups. Anyone trying to go it solo will likely run into dangerous hypothermic territory, even with the cold-weather clothing the elves provided, due to the moisture. Huddling doesn’t make things pleasant, and there’s unlikely to be good sleep to be found, but it does make things survivable.

IV. The Storm

By the third day of trekking through the floating islands, the weather begins to take a change for the worse. The white clouds they’ve been passing through darken, and the air takes on the brisk smell of impending rain. Electricity in the air raises people’s hair, and accidental touches are occasionally met with surprising static shocks.

In less than a few hours, what was previously just ominous and unpleasant becomes downright dangerous. The warm upwards drafts seem erratic and too strong, kicking the clouds into whirls. Everything gets wet as the clouds seem to spew rain everywhere, along with thunderbolts that snap out and hit trees and occasionally small animals that haven’t sought cover. The squad will have to seek cover in the caves, hopefully before anyone gets injured or killed by Mother Nature’s tantrum.

---

NOTES
✦ Exploration Post: As this event is not beholden to any particular canon, feel free to invent additional places, creatures or scenery for your characters to find so long as it fits within the common-sense bounds of this setting.

Comments

[awfulcer]

General

[Figuring out the flying certainly was neither intuitive nor enjoyable for Dixon, but he hasn't outright embarrassed himself, and that means that going island to island has been a significantly better experience than the hiking portion of this journey. If he thought that resting in Rivendell was somehow going to rejuvenate him for the next leg of the trek, he was sorely mistaken. It's like all the blisters healed up just so that they could get the most out of opening again.

At this point he's refusing to take the shortcut of hanging back until the magic bonds between them all zap him back up to the rest of the group, if only because there's a thin but important distinction between straggling and just straight-up admitting defeat. His goal isn't to stay with the rest of the squad, but just to not need the teleportation.

All the trudging will have to pay off at some point. It has to.

When they get to the floating islands and the blessed support of the updrafts, the squad takes a while to explore the area. They could stand to restock some of their supplies, and the islands seem almost suspiciously generous. Rather than get right to collecting food or water, Dixon figures he's earned a rest and lounges about in one of the prettier meadows. Someone can find him fiddling with some of the flowers, peeling the leaves off them for no reason other that absent-minded distraction, or possibly startling awake as they approach as the exhaustion of the day tries to take a hold on him.]


A. Birds

[At some point Dixon decides it's finally time to stop recuperating from the travel and try to chip in, and the obvious answer to that is to help out trying to restock the food supplies. Getting to the caves requires a little bit more finesse with the hang-gliding than he's comfortable with, so that leaves trying to catch the rabbits and meerkats. Armed with his shield, he makes his way over towards one of the smaller islands, one maybe the size of a swimming pool, figuring that if you're trying to catch something small you shouldn't give it many places to run away to.

When he gets there he shoves aside a crow the size of a sheep, which squawks at him and indignantly bounces away to give him an evil eye. Though Dixon originally planned on just trying to snag one of the horned rabbits, as he sizes up the bird he figures it probably has more meat on it. He glares back, turning so that his shield is between him and it. He feels a premature rush of triumph at the idea of bringing this ugly feathered thing back to the crew, and then he lunges.

He realizes probably a little bit too late that not only is the crow not just some overgrown, docile chicken, but that it has a horde of five or six buddies all willing to back it up. He gets mobbed before he knows it and winds up flat on his back, calling for help, protected only by the shield keeping him and the beaks searching for his eyes apart.]


B. Meerkats

[The meerkats are stringy and insubstantial food, but at least they're cute as hell. They pop up on their hind legs to watch people, looking like little militaries at attention, and then they scamper around, rubbing up against ankles like cats and squirming into the nooks and crannies of the packs people are carrying, trying to get their greedy paws on that elven bread. Dixon spends a good amount of time watching them, occasionally tossing pebbles at them when they get too close to the food, but they never seem scared off for more than thirty seconds. Occasionally one will come over and sniff at his knee.

Impulse control has never been his strong suit, and when one starts crawling up the back of his shoulder, Dixon decides he wants to hold one up close and get a good look at it on his terms. It's curiosity more than anything.

Of course, when you just grab a wild animal, it's liable to wig out on you and bite, and Dixon yelps and drops the meerkat to the ground and jerks his hand back, immediately bringing the injury to his mouth to try and staunch the blood.]

Does anyone know how to catch one of these without hurting it?


C. Storm

[This whole area has been a sort of whiplash in terms of comfort. The idyllic days keep giving way to torturous nights with nothing to blame but the elements. By now Dixon's afraid that they're all going to be dangerously sleep-deprived by the time they get to Moria, where theoretically they're supposed to have their wits about them - they'll need at least a chance to truly rest before they get there.

That isn't going to be tonight, because between the howling winds, cracks of lightning and torrential rain would wake the dead. The thunderheads came up so quickly that when the squad went for cover, a bunch of their supplies were left behind, and from the cover of one of the rock ridges Dixon can see some of their packs getting soaked and starting to float away in a muddy torrent of water.

He turns to the person next to him, someone else who must have made the running dash from the lightning to the paltry shelter of the rocks here.]

You think we should go for it?

a.

[kickpunk]

( Sanji finds himself caught between two islands, one significantly smaller than the other. The bigger one was what he was shooting for, since bigger means more to hunt and discover, but the sound of angry crows gives him pause. And then it gives him urgency.

Beaks and talons scrape at a huddled form, thankfully not finding much more than the shield; all the same, he has no time to waste.

He lands, and immediately finds his footing enough to pivot and send all his strength into kicking the biggest of the birds. It squawks angry and bewildered; Sanji just grins at them, but addresses the fallen comrade. )

Are you good, can you get up?

( Just as he asks, he sends a couple birds flying away with a rapid succession of kicks, but they're incredibly tenacious and tough.

Great. Maybe it's time to run now that a lot of the birds need to regroup. )

[awfulcer]

[Dixon picks himself up, uninjured except for a small cut on his forehead, above the burn scars, where red droplets of blood are just starting to bead up. He gives Sanji a look that's more annoyed than grateful, peevish both at the birds and at how quickly Sanji was able to jump in. ]

Did you just kick birds? [For the most part, Dixon's adjusted to how bizarre this whole quest has been. He's suspended his disbelief and now slips into new unusual things the way someone would slide into a hot bath, with a sense of comfort, even, that he can't predict how weird things are going to get and is thus absolved of any expectation to try.

But sometimes this shit's just absurd.

The moment to consider it doesn't last long, because the crows seem less dissuaded by Sanji's efforts than they are just straight-up pissed. They seem to come together into a unit, and just like that they launch themselves at the two of them.]

Fuck! [Dixon brings the shield back up and goes through an undignified scramble backwards.]

B

[unsealthecatbox]

Why, do you want a pet?

[She's sure that can't be it. Dixon doesn't seem at all the type to want a pet of any type]

[awfulcer]

No. I mean, maybe? [Look, that one kid is running around with an electric rabbit. Dixon examines the bite wound, the ring of bloody fangmarks between his thumb and forefinger.]

I just wanted to get a closer look at it, but the fucker bit me. You'd think it'd just be happy I wasn't trying to kill it and cook it like some of its buddies.

[unsealthecatbox]

You wouldn't stay still if something grabbed you like that.

[She's also unsure wild animals can feel gratitude, but hey, maybe this ones can, in the right situation. Who knows]

B

[wherenoonegoes]

Not startling them would probably help. Just because they're curious about you doesn't mean they'll like being handled.

[Hiccup pulls out some bandages, gesturing for Dixon to move his hand over.]

[awfulcer]

I'm fine, I got it, [Dixon protests, even as he does end up accepting the bandage.] Probably got myself magic rabies or something from the little fucker.

[He glances over at where Toothless is watching fish in the river.]

You're good with animals, huh?

[wherenoonegoes]

[Hiccup shrugs.]

Eh, I've had practice. I never would have gotten as far as I have if Toothless hadn't been as patient with me as he was when we first met.

General

[greyerrant]

Practicing floral arrangement, are we?

[ Loken smiles slightly, as if to remove any sting from his little jest, as he lumbers towards the officer in the meadow. ]

I'll admit, there is a great deal of natural beauty here. If you don't mind, I might tarry here as well.

[awfulcer]

What? No. [Dixon looks a little bit offended and sits up, quickly casting the mangled flower aside.] I'm just checking to see if any of them are edible.

[He absolutely isn't. He has no idea how one would even do so. All he remembers about determining what you can eat in a forest is that you should think twice before shoving strange berries in your mouth, and he's pretty sure all rules are out the window in magic-land. For all he knows if you eat something strange here you're apt to blow up into a blueberry like in that one movie with the candy.

He sits up and pats the ground near him.] Go ahead. Ain't like I own the place.

[And if he's truthful he likes the company. Maybe he can even talk Loken into giving him a hit on the shield.]

[unsealthecatbox]

[She knew these floating islands were in the way. She also had read they would have to glide through them. What may be a fantastic experience for many was something she wasn't looking forward to. At least watching the sunset from the edge of a floating island, and enjoying the surreal landscape always managed to bring a slight smile to Ange's face.

A: Gliding isn't as fun as it should be, because it reminds her of bad memories. When you pass by you may notice she gets tense, and although she spreads her arms and seems to be doing well, she's not having fun at all.

B: Huddling isn't a particularly enjoyable experience either, although that one is for more obvious reasons. Who enjoys having your personal space all invaded? Ange bundles with a bunch of blankets, and although she has her coat in addition to that, she still feels cold]

Okay, I'll be indebted to you forever if you tell me a way to stay warm that doesn't involve huddling with two or three people more.

[She's slowly starting to get resigned to the bitter truth: she'll have to if she doesn't want to risk hypothermia.

C: The Storm is a different problem. Ange had been sitting at the edge of an island, watching the canyon and enjoying the sun, when the air started feeling ominous. Being the urbanite she was, she wasn't sure what it meant. Ange prepared for danger, but she didn't expect a storm. When the first few droplets start falling and the electricity in the air starts raising her hair, she gets running]

Get over here, to this cave!

[Before they get soaked to the bone. It won't be long before it starts raining real bad]

[reluctantgenius]

A - Rock Climb

Hanbei isn’t a stranger to marching about an entire land with a variety of vast terrain. Ignis in particular was a mountainous piece of Ransei most known for its host of fierce fire type Pokemon. For someone with his particular constitution though, he always preferred sleeping whenever he could.

So by the time the entire ragtag squad finally makes it atop the perilous cliffs, he’s exhausted and immediately slumps down into a seated position, just short of flopping onto his back entirely. Physical exertion, ew.

His small companion is sticks close to him for a moment, but Hanbei waves them off. “I… I’m fine. How about... you help everyone else scouting this area, hm?”

Once the rodent reluctantly nods and scampers off, you can run into Hanbei’s Pikachu peeking curiously over the edge of the canyon and caught by surprise by how strong the updrafts are… or the self-proclaimed genius strategist trying to get a nap in.
---

B - Fly

Eventually Hanbei is recovered enough to see all the excitement about the winds being capable of carrying them to each of the floating islands with some effort and skill on their part. The two observe with curiosity and amazement at all the meerkats, rabbits, and even the crows. After all, there’s no other creatures that he knew existed besides Pokemon.

Instead of immediately writing off the resident wildlife as an easy source of meat, perhaps you might encounter the duo using them to a different sort of advantage. Hanbei could be found at work refilling water containers at the impossible river, since the animals seem to think it’s as safe and refreshing as it looks. Individual meerkats sniff at the electric mouse before moving on to the cave berries, which gives the Pokemon more than enough reason to join in on the foraging.

And much later on after making themselves productively busy, one could also run into Hanbei practicing with the magic granted by what must’ve been the Green itself. By then he’s figured out how to make small mirror-like constructs and he looks toward his fuzzy friend in thought. Seems he has an idea of what they’re meant to do and just needs to test it.
---

C - Sheer Cold

Keeping extremely close to the group, Hanbei isn’t used to the idea of huddling close to people for warmth, but he’s certainly not opposed to such a thing. Especially since cold weather isn’t his strong suit. Hanbei wishes he could do more for Pikachu, but the most he can offer to the rodent is the smallest degree of protection within the embrace of his arms beneath his dampened clothes. A silver lining to this is being able to feel the fuzzy body’s warmth at his chest. It’s not much compared to what fire types can produce, but it’s a small comfort even as the rest of him shiver.

“Ah if only we were back in Ignis. Even a Charmander or a Tepig would be miserable out here.”
---

D - Static

Contrary to all previous behavior, Hanbei keeps himself from making any physical contact whatsoever with his Pikachu as the sky pours and the clouds flash with lightning. Despite their haste for cover in the nearest cave, they’re still soaked to the bone.

Anyone who joins them will soon see it’s best to ignore the mouse as they make agitated hisses at the storm outside, their cheeks sparking near constantly in the presence of all the static in the air. It’s extremely different from the creature’s usually curious and docile nature and yet Hanbei doesn’t look very panicked about it.

“I know it might seem worrying, but electric type Pokemon like Pikachu are sensitive to electricity levels in their surroundings. Too much of a charge, such as from those bolts of lightning out there, could be very catastrophic to their health.”

So. No touching the mouse. For your own sake.
---

E - Wildcard

[Got something else in mind? Come at me!]

A

[unsealthecatbox]

[Ange knows what the average person knows of history. While she didn't comment about it, she knows the name Hanbei Takenaka and his feats as a strategist. The guy here, though...she had chalked his existence up to he being some guy with the same name, because for the life of her she still wasn't able to associate Hanbei and his fuzzy yellow companion to the samurai figure her school taught her about.

Seeing him trying to take a nap after climbing a mountain widens even more the breach. Unsure if she should approach him, instead she goes to Pikachu, pointing with her thumb over her shoulder]

Is that normal for him? It was just hiking -- nothing too strenuous.

[Not everyone has endurance and agility like you do, Ange]

[reluctantgenius]

[At the inquiry, the rodent folds their ears back and makes what resembles a human sigh. Then the Pokemon gives Ange a look with their beady eyes that's honestly hard to read. Pikachu isn't quite as tired thanks to being supported by the other for the more perilous sections of the climb.

So is it annoyance toward her assumption? Or irritation at Hanbei's apparent laziness? Genuine worry over their friend? Some combination of every possible guess?

Who knows, since there's such a wide language gap here. Maybe she should just go ahead and interrupt Hanbei's nap.]

[awfulcer]

Look, you're going to have to spell that warning out way clearer for Dixon, due to the his having no impulse control and no ability to read between the lines. Dixon's lifelong dream of becoming a detective is so divorced from his observation skills that it's comical, and he doesn't even really notice that Hanbei's pulled away from the big wet yellow rat.

Huddled up in the cave, soaking wet and watching with awe as the lightning splinters a tree, he hears the Pikachu hiss. He turns towards it and reaches to shove it towards the back of the cave. "Hey, settle down already, you little fucker-"

[reluctantgenius]

Between being absolutely drenched with water already, Dixon not being a native human from the Pokemon world, and the sparking rodent having no purposeful intent to let out a fully-powered Thunderbolt.... it's lucky for him the resulting shock just from touching the Pokemon doesn't cause any serious external or internal damage.

It's a sting that burns as much as putting one's hand on the exposed wire of an electrical cord.

... The Pikachu is far more surprised than hurt (which is not at all whatsoever), but does end up moving to the back of the cave anyway.

Closed for Simmons

[moscowpotatoblossom]

[The last thing Ruth feels is pressure in her ankle building to a blinding light, and then something seismic shifts, and she's falling. And then she's wet.

Wet and freezing. She gets to her feet, feels that her ankles are steady underneath her, and clutches her arms around her as tight as she can as chills rocket through the marrow of her bones. The rain pummels down on her, and her heavy stage makeup smears down her face and neck and onto her soaked leotard.]

Where...?

[Where's the audience? Where are the stagelights? Where's Debbie? With rain pounding into her, Ruth can't seem to make out anything, and panic floods her brain with adrenaline. She scrambles and slides over rocks, looking for shelter long enough to orient herself, slicing up her bare knees.

A bolt of lightning whips out of seemingly nowhere and fries a branch of a nearby tree tugging the wind. Ruth shrieks.]

[suckitblue]

[ Someone else yells in surprise. Not because of Ruth, but definitely because of that lightning bolt. She's gotten their attention, though: a point of light bobs closer in the murk and rain, though, because it seems to have heard her.

The source of this is absolutely ridiculous: A person wearing a suit of science fiction armor, scrambling along carrying a walking stick with one glowing end. It's like someone smashed a couple of bad halloween costume ideas together without thinking it through.

Simmons slides a bit on the wet stone but manages not to go over completely, awkwardly catching himself with his totally legitimate and cool wizard staff.

...Okay, it's just a fancy stick, but a person has to take what joy they can in this kind of thing, alright? ]

Are you okay?!

[ He has to yell a bit, it's pretty loud out here right now. ]

[moscowpotatoblossom]

I...

[Maybe, if Simmons had shown up looking like a normal person in a polo shirt and slacks, Ruth's brain wouldn't short-circuit as hard as it does. But the person before her is obviously in some kind of costume, and the only coherent thought that cutting through the cyclone of Ruth's cognition is that this must be part of the show. Not part that she planned, but Sam's pulled fast ones on them before, even if this kind of bombast is so, so far beyond what she expects he could pull off with their budget.

Instead of responding with the very real fear and disorientation that she feels, right there in the middle of the storm, she commits to a truly terrible Russian accent.]

Takes more than thunderbolt to kill Zoya! [She tries to adopt suitably confident and intimidating body language but the chill caves her body inwards and hunches her shoulders.] Pah, in Russia this storm would be little baby!

[wickerman]

Hunting

[There was one thing Caster was good at and that is survival. Hunting, fishing, you name it, he could kill it. He's intent on killing and trapping food right now, to supply provisions for himself and Ovelia, at the very least. Anything extra could be given to the rest of the group.

These crows were making it difficult. Not one to back down, he instead chose to stand and fight them. There were rune traps set to trigger in a few places as he went to grab the prey he'd killed.]

Look, if we can hold them off, we can eat. They're probably edible, too. Just cover me for a minute.

[Help him out, will you?]

Huddling (closed to Ovelia)

[It's cold and wet and miserable. Caster had not been dealing with his transition to a human form very well and this temperature didn't make it any better. He'd been charged with taking care of Ovelia, though, and that was a duty he took very seriously. Their immediate sleeping area was trapped by runic magic -- any intruders would get a surprise.

The wood was all damp and making a fire was out of the question, unless he set some of his underlayers alight. That wasn't something he wanted to do because it was short-sighted. A shiver ran through him and he looked to Ovelia with a weak smile.]

Sorry I can't get a fire started. There's nothing dry enough around here. You need to stay warm, though.

[He shrugged off his personal cloak. It's surprisingly warm and dry for the environment and is glowing faintly.]

Take this, it'll help.

[ofnovalue]

-Between Caster's cloak and her own, she could at least build some warmth, but she really didn't like the idea of Caster himself going cold. He'd been so kind to her, a good friend to her beloved, that it sat ill with her to see him suffer.-

Tis not large enough for us both? I shan't have it if you muse go without...

[wickerman]

[Caster made a face at that. He could live with the cold -- it reminded him of winters in Ulster, chilly and damp. But if she wasn't going to take it...With a little sigh, he took an edge of the cloak and pulled it around himself.]

Fine, fine. I can handle it, though -- this climate feels like home.

[If they were going to be traveling together and have him act as her protector, maybe he could lift the veil on his true identity just a little bit.]

[greyerrant]

By all means, Caster.

[ Loken looks ready to cover him for a moment, his bulky form ready for any kind of fight, even against large birds or whatnot. ]

Hardly the mightiest foe I've faced, but starvation would be an embarrassing way to die, no?

[wickerman]

[Caster looks back over his shoulder with a grin and gives a grateful nod.]

Not the worst I've faced, either, but there's too many for just me to handle, you know?

[He takes off towards the felled prey, grabbing them before scrambling away. He only has the one free arm to protect himself from the massive crows. A small fireball is launched towards them.]

Shit, they don't want us to eat.