Scionfest 2009: The Morning After


Pauline, Tybalt, Kailin, Wesley, Durandal, Connor, Carel

Scene Title Scionfest 2009: The Morning After
Synopsis Our tropical revelers wake up the following morning, some still hung over from the nights carousing, some just plain exhausted. Either way, they are greeted with a rude awakening

A Tropical Island

Lots of water, trees, sand, and rum!

Rustling under his sheets, Wesley's eyes slowly open, staring up at the ceiling, then under the sheet. "Hey, I'm naked, does that mean I-" Looking next to him, he frowns in disappointment. "No Pauline, damnit." That revelation had, he takes a quick shower, throws his clothes on, then kicks his door open and looks around, taking a deep breath.
It takes him a moment, actually about an hour, to feel his neck and realize that something is a bit off. "Hey, what the hell, I hate collars. I wonder if I bagged a hot pirate girl… still not Pauline though." He frowns, apparently not so concerned with the collars as he starts to sniff in the direction of Pauline's place, and knocks. He doesn't have his usual cocky grin, he just seems to have a constant look of disappointment. Wesleys have feelings too!

Durandal stirs awake, yawning a bit and lifting a hand to sheild his eyes from the sun that beats down. He curses in a grumbling voice before shfiting his weight. His eyes are half closed, and his face is loose and groggy. He continues to mumble, but none of it makes any sense. He fell asleep in board shorts and no shirt, in a hammock hung between two trees.
He pushes himself to his feet, still mumbling. Something about how the Sun is an evil titanspawn and where was Wesley to kill it? He scratches his chest idly, under the metal collar, not noticing it. He staggers across the sand, feeling it between his bare feet, moving in the direction of the shower stall. He slides in, and slips out of his boardshorts, draping them over the side of the stall and reaches out to run the water. It takes him a few tries to find the faucet, but he finally manages it, and the water begins to flow.

Durandal ducks underneath the flow, letting the water run down his face to wake him up, and he reaches up to rub his head, rolling it to limber up. Before his eyes open, he frowns. Something is keeping his neck from moving right. He forces his eyes open and reaches up to the smooth surface of the collar, and he frowns more, then his voice booms out from the shower stall. "WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS!?!?!"

The sun crests over the horizon, bathing the island in glorious tropical rays. Everything is peaceful, the gentle lapping of the waves upon the beach occasionally punctuated with the cry of a gull.
Very abruptly that peace is shattered by an angry earth-shattering roar that echos through the group of tiny sleeping huts. A flock of birds flee the nearby trees in a swarm, shrieking in started terror. One of the doors slams open hard enough to dislodge the hinges from the wood.
Pauline emerges, looking furious and clad only in her flannel pajama shorts and white tank top for sleeping. "WHO THE HELL TOOK ALL MY STUFF?!" she bellows, her voice bearing the underpinnings of one that could one day be used by a divine being.

Wesley, hand quickly drawn back from knocking on Pauline's broken door, tilts his head. "Someone took our…" He pauses for a moment, looking as if he's checking something, even though he's not apparently moving. "Those fuckers stole my stuff! Pauline, go get dressed, or undressed, whatever, we're gonna kill some people."

Durandal pokes his head out from the shower stall, leaning out far enough to see but not far enough to show that he's not wearing anything anymore. "What the hell?" He curses, then grins a bit. "Pauline… nice to see you… in all your morning splendor." He looks like he's trying to suppress a laugh, and he does a good job of it. He withdraws his head quickly before Pauline has a chance to find something heavy to throw, then after a few moments there is a heavy banging noise, and the walls of the stall start to shake a bit. Then one havy bang, and there is the sound of splintering wood. "Shit!"

Kailin looks slightly annoyed, but otherwise is mostly just subdued. He finds a seat near one of the common areas and just lounges back, folding his hands in front of him. He rests his head back against the wall and waits patiently.

Calming just slightly, she looks down at Wesley who had apparently come to visit her this morning too. This is probably the first time he's seen her with her hair down, which is about half the length of her back and pretty thick. Were she green, she could probably pull off a good She-Hulk. Suppressing the urge to deck Wesley again, she forces a, "You too, huh." through gritted teeth and tugs her broken door over.
Durandal's lucky, that door doesn't get thrown at him. Instead, she awkwardly tugs it over the doorway. "Don't you dare come in here."

The boardshorts are pulled down off the wall of the showerstall and after a few moments the water shuts off and Durandal walks into view, all wet and looking around for a towel. His collar is now a bit scuffed, but despite his best efforts to bang it against the wall of the stall, the collar is undamaged. He reaches up to rub his chin. "So this is new…" he says, stretching out a bit.

"Yeah, they stole my shit. And fuck, you're hot, why're you always keeping your hair up?" Wesley asks as he looks her up and down, then looks toward Duranal. "You're here too? You're smarter than me, who's the person we gotta punch to get our shit back?"

And suddenly as people are screaming over the collars, there's an explosion at one of the huts..oh dears!

Kailin sighs and stretches his back as he stands up from the chair. He casually makes his way over towards Pauline's hut to knock on the door. "Hey, I'm headed out. You want to come with me?" He looks up and forces himself to be more patient.

"Sonofabitch!" is the roar and the door to Connor's hut shatters outward as he stalks out. "Where is that fat asshole? I'm going to break somebody!" His rage is interupted by the sound of an explosion and he pauses to finger the collar. He's seen that CSI episode. Good thing he didn't try to tear it off first.
Durandal grins a bit. "If I knew that, you think I'd be here sunbathing?" He shakes his head. "I'm just as in the dark as you are. I get the feeling we'll find out who's responsible soon… I'm just glad I slept in my shorts instead of a speedo." He looks around. "Now… what are the odds I can find a drink around here?" He trudges off in the direction of the place the Luau had taken place, hoping there would be a cooler there. He only takes a few steps before the hut explodes. He shields his eyes and face from the blast, then begins to run in that direction in his best Baywatch impersonation.

A few minutes later, Pauline nudges her door down with a knee and probably accidentally hits Kailin with it. She's got jeans and a T-shirt on now but is notably barefoot. Her hands are occupied, putting her hair back up in a ponytail. "At least they missed the rubber band-" she grumbles only to abruptly stop at the sound of the explosion. "-sure Kailin." she finally replies, "Let's start with figuring out what that was."

Wesley starts walking in the direction of the explosion once Pauline comes out again, looking back at her with a frown. "Hey! What're you putting your hair up again for? You blow my freakin' mind more than normal with your hair down."

"Because it'll get in my face when I'm running around trying to do things if I leave it down." Pauline quickly shoots back at Wesley.

"I don't give a shit what that was, honestly. It was probably just some other dumb shit with a collar that got himself exploded and there is probably not much left of them to question, so I'm not really worried about it. I'm going to go find the guy that was talking about the scavenger hunt. You want to go?" Kailin certainly doesn't look to be in a good mood, but he does decent enough in still being civil.

And over the loud speakers, there's a young girl talking.."There's a reason it didn't just happen. It's not a mystery. I had sex and now Dad is dead. He had a horrible death because I had incredible sex. It's just the way life works. And death. I did this. I did it. And if I hadn't done it; if I hadn't had sex, and if I hadn't enjoyed having sex so much, then Dad would still be alive and you know it mom."

Wesley holds his hands up, looking around at everyone. "Wasn't me."
Connor looks around then starts moving toward Kailin as he picks the best course of action to pursue. "So I just woke up. Anyone know what the fuck is going on beyond the obvious? Or hasn't the Polynesian Blofeld revealed his master plan yet?" Pause. "Ummm, what?"

Durandal pulls up short of the hut, listening to the loudspeaker as he examines the wreckage. Specifically, he's looking for a couple of long planks of wood if any survived the blast, the heavier the better.

Pauline can easily tell that Kailin's in a bad mood. She can't really blame him. She pauses, lifting an eyebrow at the weirdness going on over the loudspeakers. "Yeah, let's go find that fat dude and get to the bottom of this crap." Stalking off, she heads for where they were having the luau the other night. "Though two things, Kailin, since you've been at this longer than I have." She ticks her fingers off as she walks, "One, what Titanspawn are smart enough to pull off something this organized. Two, how do you do get your metal to cover your clothes?"

"Gonna crack some fat Hawaiian heads!" Wesley says as he punches his palm with a loud crack, walking with everyone else as they apparently head for the luau. "You know, what I don't get is where the pirates are. I mean, obviously pirates did it, there's pirates all over this place. You saw the movie, read the title!"

He starts off to find the man that announced the scavenger hunt, but the logic - or lack thereof - of how any of what happened was even possible, especially with him, is far beyond him so he just shakes his head to her first question. "No idea." To the second he says, "It is just a stronger method of protecting yourself. You've got the first step down, just push it one further. Not only does it protect you better but the metal protection is a lot more impenetrable than before."

Durandal searches for a few moments, finding a couple of shatters planks of wood with sharp edges. Probably not sharp enough to peirce armor, but sharp enough to peirce skin when weilded by someone with his strength. He grabs a pair of the planks, carrying them over to the group. "Pauline!" He calls to the woman, tossing her one of the planks. "Little different then a sword, but same "pointy end in bad guy" theory. If you see any rough stone, let me know, I may be able to sharpen them a bit."

"Whatever it is, they did it through song." Connor notes. "Since this was obviously a trap, I was just going to stay awake for as long as we were here but last night after I went back to the hut I heard singing. Then nothing and I woke up a few minutes ago." Seeing Durandal's improvisation, he jogs over to the wreckage to find himself a makeshift weapon.

Pauline snatches the plank out of the air and tucks it under her arm. "Thanks. Push it one further, huh. Let's see if I can pull that off today." Her eyes narrow and she glances over her shoulder. "What did the singing sound like, Connor? Do you remember? Wesley I think we've got something worse than pirates here."
Backtracking to where the luau was held, Pauline hunts down the location where she saw that fat guy depart last night (and where she had followed him but gave up after losing him in the dark, though the desire to go back and get more food probably contributed this as well).

Pauline isnt the only one looking for the big fat Samoan. And there he is, his hands behind his back as he starts to rock back and forth on the balls of his feet, chuckling softly. He's not hiding. How.. weird.

"I hope so, pirates might break too easily." Wesley says as he begins to crack his knuckles. Then, there's the Samoan, and he instantly starts charging for the man, fists clinched. "Hey! Hawaiian Santa! Where's our shit?" he asks, then just draws his fist back and moves to slam a punch directly into the man's face.
Durandal follows behind the group, queitly looking around for anything he can sharpen his wood with. That's right, he said it… Duran's not so good with people, so he lets someone else do the talking. Besides, last night for him was a blur of ukelele music and pina coladas…

"If you like pina coladas.."

The song croons over the speakers, after that little bit. The samoan man snickers softly as he looks towards Wesley and raises his brows. There's an unseen shield keeping everyone away as they would feel the shield surrounding him all around. Obviously, Samoan Santa is not just jolly old fat man.

"Now..if any of your teams had won yesterday, perhaps you would still have them, but this evening..we shall begin.."

And he pulls down a bit of covering over one of the banners.

" SCIONFEST 2009!!! Now..go rest up and eat, you'll need it it..

Wesley smaacks into the unseen wall, futilely hugging and gnawing on it with his teeth. "You suck!" he yells through the shield, then starts walking back to the others.
Connor searches through the wreckage for an appropriate piece of wood and pulls out a large, jagged piece of timber. It's a bit large so he snaps off a section till it's about five foot long. At Pauline's question, he tries to recall as he heads back over to the group. "It was… many voice in a chorus. Both male and female. No instruments that I can remember hearing." And on seeing the Samoan, he growls softly under his breath but doesn't bother going any closer once Wesley bangs his nose. "You are so dead." he promises quietly.

"Damnit Wesley, punch him AFTER he answe…r…s.." Pauline trails off, tilting her head as Wesley begins flailing at an unseen barrier. Stepping over, Pauline reaches out and taps to judge where said shield is before stepping right up to it so she can draw herself up and loom over the Samoan. "Won /what/? Spill it, old man, what's the meaning of /this/?" she points a finger at her collar.

Kailin approaches the Samoan man and gives a shake of his head. "Let's not waste time over this, so just let us know what the game is." He crosses his arms over his chest and shakes his head in frustration when Wesley just goes to punch the man with an invisible shield. "So now we just wait around MORE? That's fantastic." He turns heading back towards his cabin.

Durandal watches the man speak, quiet, then turns around and walks away, back towards the wrecked hut. The others can talk, Durandal has work to do. First order of business is to get some more wood, then find some large peices of rough stone, and get to work. He doesn't wait around to hear the answers to the groups questions.

"Why it's a lost the first you won't get the advantage for this game.." the old man cackles softly, clearly amused. "You'll find out go eat.." he says firmly and resolutely.

"I'm not eating your poison Hawaiian Pirate food." Wesley firmly says with his arms crossed, turning to eye Pauline and see what exactly she'll do. Sure, he could start punching the shield, but it's best to see what the smart people are doing first.

Pauline's eyes narrow. "Alright, if that's how you're going to play it…" She let's her arms fall to her sides and….
…turns around and walks away, quickly passing by Kailin. She murmurs something quietly to him before heading off back to the camp.

Durandal collects some more peices of wood and some rough stone, then he ambles up to the bar. "Hiya boss… I need a bottle of rum, a bottle of vodka, and 4 bottles of beer…" He gives the bartender and easy smile and waits for his order to be filled.

Wesley, like a puppy, goes after Pauline and Durandal, though looks back at the Samoan a few times. "Why aren't we trying to crack that guy's skull open, again? I mean, maybe if we punch the invisible thing enough…"

Durandal smiles and nods as 6 bottles are presented, tucking them under his arms. "Thanks, pal, you're a lifesaver." He carries the bottles over to where his wood and stone is, then sits down… and begins to shatter the bottles agaisnt a tree.

"Waste of time." Pauline growls under her breath. "And judging by the shit-eating grin on his face he probably expects us to do that. I'm going to scout the island in the meantime. Could you do me a favor and look for some flint or obsidian? Obsidan's that shiny black volcanic glass."

Kailin turns from heading back to his cabin and heads out towards the island, intent on looking around for a while since they have extra time until the evening, whenever the next 'thing' was supposed to happen.

"Sure thing, Pauline!" Wesley says with a salute, quickly running in the direction of the volcano as he shows off his skills at being amazingly whipped.

Carel finally makes his way out of his gust hut. A good bit after some others from the looks of things. But then he has the bleary eyed, tousled haired, and not entirely happy to be alive look of one that perhaps indulged a bit too much in the open bar the night before.

Carel receives a friendly wave from Pauline before she disappears into the jungle. "Someone had a bit too much last night, huh?" she teases before heading off. In spite of all that's happened, she sounds oddly cheerful.

Sniffing around in the jungle, making his way to Pauline again as he kicks dirt around, hoping to see one of those black rocks, he seems rather frustrated already. "Pauline! You know an easy way to find this stuff?" he calls out, a few trees away.

Connor hefts his bit of wreckage but it's far from ideal. But this is a resort. There was a luau. A roast pig. There's got to be a kitchen, a barbecue pit, a spit. Very large knives. He's off to find them.

Carel waves cheerily enough to Pauline, before reaching up to massage at the collar around his neck. "I never met an open bar I didn't like." he calls out after the woman loudly before.. heading off in search of more alcohol. There is nothing quite like shaking off a hangover with a liberal application of more alcohol.

"Head to the center of the island!" Pauline calls back, "Where the volcano is! No wait…" she pauses, thinking, "…go to the beach and circle around the whole island first! Check to see if the lava meets or has met the sand anywhere! You'll probably find it there!"

"Hey, you wanna do anything after this?" Wesley exclaims as he starts walking out to the beach, kicking and punching anything that gets in his way in the middle of a jungle. "I hope I find a pirate bear…"

Pauline doesn't answer, maybe because she's gone too far in the other direction, heading for the center of the island. Or maybe she's just pretending that she didn't, it's hard to tell. "Friggin' Titanspawn and their free vacations." she grumbles, "I knew it was too good to be true."

Carel only gets halfway to the bar before yawning broadly. Hm.. lingering sleepiness versus more alcohol. Ah the vices one must choose from. The former wins and he prowls his way back to his hut, slipping within and crashing for the time being.

Durandal sets his work aside after a time and wanders back over to the bar. "Hey bossman! How about some kielbasa and cabbage on rice, eh? Haven't had it in awhile." He perches on a barstool and waits while the dish is prepared. "I'd tell you not to posion it, but I get the feeling that whoever is pulling the strings want's us alive, at least for now." He rubs his chin. "And a tall glass of cola."

Durandal nods and smiles at the bartender as his food and drink is delivered. "So what's the deal anyhow? Free food, free drinks? Who's footing the bill?" When the bartender delivers his cryptic reply, Duran quirks an eyebrow and nods slowly. "Oooookay." He picks up his drink and plate and moves to find a table. "Just gonna…sit over here…"

Durandal returns to his weapons making, scraping the tip of his wooden plank and attaching the broken bottle.

Tybalt isn't know for being the party-boy without reason. After a long night of drinking, and not feeling like signing any kind of papers, he ended up crashing in Connor's room. And as Connor was smart enough not to go to sleep, Tybalt chose to bed to sleep in and is currently face down in a pillow in his boxers with a massive headache and a metalic collar around his neck. *SNnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnNNNNN*

Connor returns after a while with a long spit stuck through his belt that's just a little longer than his sword. Tis 'nuff', twill serve. He also bears an assortment of butcher knives, fileting knives and a couple axes of the kind you see near fire hoses where you're supposed to break the glass. Walking over to the bar, he dumps them all down and sits next to Durandal. "I'll have a beer." he tells the bartender. He also bears a couple roast beef sandwiches in a plastic bag. The kitchen was raided for numerous items. "Anything happen yet?"

*SNORT* Tybalt shoots up and grumbles a bit, scratching his neck under the collar. He makes his way to the toilet for the worlds longest piss and then makes his way to the mirror before offering a loud. "What the fuck!??" A moment later he is storming out of his room in his boxers with a deep frown on his face. "Ok….who's the kink-ster that is responsible for this?" He asks, making his way into the bar area.

Connor looks over to Tybalt. "Took you long enough to wake up. Don't try taking it off; it explodes. Or so I assume since something exploded in that hut over there…" He motions to the rubble. "And it's the only thing with lights on it. Someone is playing a game of some sort."

Tybalt grumbles a little bit and reaches to grab a beer, a hair of the dog as it were. "Well, this is no freakin' vacation…" He mutters as he opens it and takes a swig.

"Did you really think it would be?" Connor asks curiously. "It was obvious it was a trap of some sort. They were just smarter. I'd love to know what that singing was and who did it. Once we kill the fat guy maybe we'll find out."

Tybalt shrugs a little bit as he continues to drink, trying to bring back a little clarity and take away a little fuzz. "So…Who's the fat guy? Singers? Those sound like Sirens….Pretty singing every one passes out??"
Connor shrugs at the question. "He didn't say. And aren't sirens the women in the sea that make men throw themselves overboard?" Taking a sandwich out of the bag, he tears off a corner.

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