EVENT LOG: SCAVENGER HUNT

[lucetimods]

Who: All you scavenger hunters!
What: Scavenging and other fantabulousness, I suppose.
When: November 24th to 28th
Where: The whole village! And yet also all over time and space...
Summary: See this post for more info.
Rating: P for Points! (Keep it PGish, folks. Anything worthy of a higher rating can be brought to your appointments posts.)

As announced by CJ, the village's immediate environs are divided up according to this map. There are five areas: the Nile, Ice Age, Space Opera, Shogunate, and Gangland. Time-and-place appropriate architecture and conjured up NPCs exist in each area.

Don't forget the scavenger hunt! While actually finding things is ultimatly optional, you can find more information on the hunt here. If you want to claim a reward from the hunt, be sure to link at least two related threads on the new rewards claims post.

Finally, here's a quick rundown of the objects:
- In THE NILE: A ceremonial dagger and a piece of Pharoah's treasure
- In GANGLAND: A tommy gun and a set of car keys
- In ICE AGE: A bone spear and a smilodon's tooth
- In SPACE OPERA: a raygun and part of a robot
- In SHOGUNATE: a samurai sword and water from a kappa's head

Happy hunting!

Comments

[snikting]

Logan was pissed off to find himself not only in an icy home, but also decked out in a familiar outfit (though decked out with more animals skins). Yeah. Really pissed. Which is why he was glad to just not go home and stick around in Gangland, having drinks and getting into bar fights with anyone who gave him too much lip. He lived through this era and frankly, he rather liked it.

He can be talked into going into other places and may at some points be found poking around them just to see the sights. But he'll be staying primarily in Gangland. He's personally not so interested in playing along with the scavenger hunt. Notable, in the Shogunate, he seems distracted. Like there's something he should be remembering, but can't seem to.

(Costumes: Gangland, The Nile, Space Opera, and Shogunate)

day one. nile.

[herotypical]

Buffy caught sight of the man as he prowled past her house. There she was -- sitting on the steps of a home now made of stone rather than wood. This Nile-ish area was...well...hot And sandy. And she squinted at him as he passed.

Then: "H-hey! You! It's you!"

She stood quickly in a froth of sheer, glittery fabric. Great and diaphanous sleeves whirled about her slight frame. The sleeves, in fact, were the problem.

She needed them removed. Sliced, in point of fact.

[snikting]

This wasn't the bar he was looking for. Just the woman who worked at once. He grimaced upon spotting her, not anticipating any sort of happy reunion with her. But upon being beckoned, he crossed his arms and made his way over.

"Yeah?"

[herotypical]

"If I recall at all correctly, you've got quite the pair of slicers hidden away in those hands..."

She nodded down at his knuckles and -- well -- and tried to avoid staring at too much of that exposed buffness.

[snikting]

"I do. What's it to you, Summers?"

He didn't quite grasp what she was asking for.

[herotypical]

Up went her hands and the delicate sleeves trailed from equally delicate wrists. A wind picked and plucked at the fabric, creating a scene that would be eerie on a poorly lit night by a fog-wreathed pond but which mostly looked...ridiculous in the all-revealing, down-beating Egyptian sun.

"Because I was kinda wondering if you'd help me with a little tailoring issue I've been having. Wh-which..." Buffy's head tilted. Now she truly was sizing him up -- but not in a good way. "Which I can totally understand you refusing."

After all, they hadn't parted on the sweetest of terms. And his nose was still hella-creepy. But any port in a fashion storm, eh?

[snikting]

A single razor sharp claw shot out from his right arm, just as he held it up in her direction. Followed by one hard, discerning look.

"You sure about that? There ain't too many people who like havin' these too close. An' I ain't exactly known for being delicate either."

[herotypical]

"I do dimly recall being threatened with them, buster. I'll live."

But her hands lift higher and her chin, too, lifts. So proud. Buffy wasn't afraid but merely mildly uncomfortable; it was a little like eating crow. However, a darker corner of her heart more than welcomed the sudden proximity of sharp and threatening objects. One had to satisfy a biological imperative to live on the edge somehow.

"Just make it clean. I hate a ragged hem."

[snikting]

"Fine."

He gave her a dirty look, but fine. He obliged. First thing's first. With his left hand, he took hold of her upper arm to hold it in place. If this was her time to back out, it wasn't a good one, because he was already making the cut. Moving would just make it bloody.

Before he moved on to the next one, she'd have time to take objection.

[herotypical]

Oh. She was in a mood to relish the man's dirty looks. She damn well did revel in them, pleased to make a nuisance of herself. I bother therefore I am.

"You should be careful, y'know. All that exposed skin. You'll get burnt." A beat. "Or can you not get a sunburn?"

That was all she really could remember, aside from the drunk rudeness. Good at healing. She patiently waited out the second sleeve's demise.

[snikting]

Her response was an eyeroll and exasperated groan. He swapped hands, including which hand was sporting a claw. Time to trim the other side.

"I can't even tan."

Snikt. Logan retracted a claw and stepped back to admire his work. She certainly looked marginally less ridiculous now.

[herotypical]

And she glanced downwards, waggling her arms in order to experience the satisfaction of freer movement. The discarded dregs of dress rustled in the sand, impatient to steal away on a momentary wayward breeze.

"How sad..." Buffy commented -- perhaps to Logan, although she addressed her sleeves directly.

[snikting]

He chose to be insulted over his handiwork. It felt more familiar.

"Sorry if it ain't up to snuff. I'm not known for fashion."

He wasn't sorry. At all.

[herotypical]

"Huh?"

Buffy looked up rather sharply. Even so, her expression still held a thoughtful fog. Like she might as well have been a million miles away. Or in the real, honest-to-goodness Egypt. It was almost a compelling kind of expression. Raw and real. Solemn.

And she had to go and ruin it by suddenly waggling her arms once again. Penguiny, really. She was moving in a penguiny fashion.

"No! The snipping was superb. Exactly what I needed. I only meant that..." Her brows knit. "Well. Who knows. Maybe a tan isn't something you've ever wanted, anyway."

[snikting]

Logan was aware of his shortcomings. But he'd had a long time to have bigger ones, like being a mutant and monster, to make him not give a damn about his physical appearance so much. All the same, he wasn't interested in conversing about it.

"That all you needed, Summers?"

[herotypical]

"...That's just about it--" She hesitated, as if she wasn't entirely certain what she should call him in return. Eyes ever so slightly narrowed. But she recovered quickly with a light-hearted shrug and a valiant attempt to save face.

"Thanks," she turned back towards the house. "I guess we're even."

Even. Because that just about absolved Logan of his ridiculous drunken display. Possibly. Perhaps. Harrumph.

[snikting]

"Even." He repeated it as if it was ridiculous. But. It seemed fair enough and he didn't care to argue.

"Right. Careful about the sun. No point in you burning."

He had no pockets to bury his hands in, so he folded them behind his back instead and moved on.

wow i didn't even have to make this image myself

[merelychewed]

STAYING IN GANGLAND, HUH?

WELL.

Then.

This was the last place Logan might expect to run into a dragon, but, hey, stranger things happened in Luceti every single day. Draco had woken up in the mountains where the changes had not touched anything, but when he had gone out on his daily flight, the sudden sprawling gangland city that stopped just short of his own stomping grounds was enough to prompt further investigation.

When he flew into the shift, however, a sudden change prompted him to land. From outside whichever speakeasy Logan has settled into for his drinks and bar fights, there comes the sound of something big hitting the pavement, followed by cars honking wildly.

"Go around if you're in such a hurry! Honestly. What a racket... Pffbleh! What is this?!"

Out there, one dragon, set up to fit (not so well) into the gangland atmosphere. He was blocking a whole street, contemplating the giant, smoking cigar that he has pulled out of his mouth.

that's great

[snikting]

Logan had quickly arrived on the scene when he heard tires squealing, gun fir, and angry shouts. Followed by people running in terror. Tommy gun in hand, Logan ran directly towards the source of the kerfuffle. Upon seeing the dragon, though, he didn't see much point in keeping it on the ready.

"You'll be needing more than a hat and cigar to fit in around here, croc."

[merelychewed]

He sure does make an impression wherever he does land. The running, shouting people got a sigh and an exasperated look from Draco. Figured. Just as he was feeling comfortable with visiting the village proper, there would be a whole other group surprised and scared of him around.

"Like a completely different body," Draco replied, turning as he did to eye Logan. "Ah. The short, stinky man. So we meet again."

Whether that was good or not was yet to be seen, a thought he kept to himself as he carefully put the cigar back between his teeth and moved to stand back up.

[snikting]

"Nice to see you too. Ain't smokin' a bit redundant for you?"

This time around, Logan was more relaxed around the big dragon, a contrast from last time. It was different because this time, he didn't have to protect anyone from big, scaly, and ugly. Any of the people around weren't real.

[merelychewed]

He turned to examine himself in the nearest, largest reflective surface he could find. A storefront window would have to do.

"I don't breathe smoke," Draco corrected with an amused snort. "If I ever do, you'll know there's something wrong. Though I can't say I find this very appetizing, although the hat doesn't look too bad on me, if I do say so myself."

[snikting]

Logan just made with a fake smile as he sarcastically answered with: "Yeah, yer a regular Drake Tracy."

[merelychewed]

"If you're trying to say something witty, you should know it isn't working," Draco replied and turned back to look at Logan again. "Drake Tracy?"

That one made about as much sense as 'croc' did!