Snippet #2788534

located in Lunalake Island, a part of The Imagiverse, one of the many universes on RPG.

Lunalake Island

A large island and major hub, Lunalake City is here, along with a few fishing towns situated around the river and lake. In the middle of the lake is a strange clock tower where the governor lives. No one knows why he lives there, he just... does.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Adam Skelecoot ((Roleplay Creator)) Character Portrait: John Skelecoot Character Portrait: Max the Robloxian Character Portrait: Jack "The Ducky Boy" Quackers Character Portrait: Fancy Pants Character Portrait: Skitters Character Portrait: Sir Betelgeuse Grimms Character Portrait: Vragi Odd
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The figure atop the the tower sunk quickly within the building disappearing from sight, likely some form of elevator contraption or chute. Almost immediately after this, the figure emerged at the other end of the red carpet bridge, out from the doorway to greet the most abrupt visitors of his... abode. A real dapper dandy this one was, dressed fancy from neck to toe, wearing a black suit, red tie tucked neatly, black dress pants, shiny black dress shoes, carrying a black cane with a crow head carved into its handle, white gloves covered his hands, and yet tall and spindly was he, he had to bow to walk through his own door. As he faced them, courteously still rising from his bow, it was clear he was no ordinary man, had his stature not given that away yet, his face was akin to a bird, witch a beak-like curved nose, angry-looking feathery eyebrows, and piercing large red-to-yellow eyes, feathers rust-red and white, hair slicked back into a slope and silvery, giving the impression he was rather advanced in his years.

He looked them over briefly, his eyes looked like they were scrutinizing every detail of his visitors, though that may just be because they are so large and piercing anyways. He then cleared his throat, fished through his coat to glance at a paper, before making a gesture towards the group. He began to speak boldly in an unknown tongue, only to note some confusion. He cleared his throat and started again.

"Welcome, travelers from beyond the veil, to the humble island of Lunalake! I am the governor or this piece of land, Abdown is the name, and I will be acting ambassador for this land, foreign to you. Before you in this direction is Lunalake City, which-" he said in announcement, holding his hands out back towards the other side of the lake, a large city of variable colorful houses, big and small, with a rather eccentric pattern, or lack of pattern to them. They could still be defined as housing, at the very least, and by technological level and general aesthetic seemed late Victorian. What seemed out of place, however, is that even from this distance, it was clear there had been some small battle, breaks in the streets, pieces of roofing blown off, a still steaming crater in the city square. He furrowed his brow, breaking from his rehearsed cordiality. "-well, is still very much intact. A bit of an unfortunate misunderstanding that I can assure ended without tragedy."

"Right," Basalah said, suspiciously squinting. "First off, how do you know we came from beyond the veil and are not just travelers from another part of this world, and why are you being so... nice... to armed aliens? This isn't one of those ploys to get outsiders to do random quests to solve the problems the natives are too lazy to do?"

"First off, this craft of yours literally came out of a hole in the sky, a craft of make and design that even here is uncharacteristic, running on what I presume to be a fuel definable as the physical manifestation of thoughts and dreams, which, while, is not at all an unfamiliar concept to us Memorians, the usage of devices explicitly to manipulate it, is. Furthermore, this implies you are beings, or at least there are beings among you that are not innately capable of producing these effects. Not to brag, or put you down in any way, of course, because by ability alone, few of us can pierce the veil, so I applaud your feat!"

"I-," Basalah began, finding herself without words.

"Secondly, I'd rather our problems be solved by us, without dragging outsiders into it, as that would be rather rude, and well... needlessly dangerous... as well as likely resulting in bad reviews to our tourism department, which is barely existent to begin with," he continued, adjusting his tie. "Anyone want tea or coffee? Crumpets perhaps? I'm sure you are all exhausted from your trip, and I'd be a damn bad host not to offer, especially with a lady in my midst," he finished, motioning to the inside of his tower before heading inside and descending within.

"This... is all so strangely familiar to me," Grimms said, getting a good glance at everything as he got upon and walked across the cuckoo bridge towards the door.

"La- hmph, didn't ask for- I'll show you a... you... ugh..." Basalah muttered incoherently with her crackling voice, arms crossed and puffed up in proud agitation, flustered and confused shifting eyes about for anything to say. At last she exhales, looking defeated. "Ffffff... fine!" She then followed suite.