Welcome to The Resort - Activities 001

[theresort]

The Resort Motto:

Don't resort to drastic measures
Have your life re-sorted
Come visit The Resort

WELCOME TO THE RESORT



How did you get here? Did you arrive willingly, wanting a break from it all? Or did you unexpectedly find a path through your dreams or magic gone wrong? Was there a random flash of light and suddenly you were standing in a strange place?

A teleportation machine, to be exact.

Either way, now you're at The Resort and the friendly staff are here to answer your questions and hand you brochures on all the sights and amenities.

The Resort is surrounded by snow-capped mountains and ringed by a lush green forest. The middle areas are beautifully situated with fantastic views from every angle and perfectly maintained cabins and gardens await you. If you try to leave, you'll just find yourself back home.

You are not trapped here.

Go out and explore.

Guided tours will be on offer as well as a warming bonfire highlighted on the night, conveniently located between the cabin and activity areas. All the safety measures are in place but accidents could happen. Marshmallows on sticks and various snacks and drinks are on offer. All for free. You don't need money at The Resort. Everything is complimentary so relax and enjoy your time here.


A FAMILIAR PLACE

Or maybe this place isn't so perfect and unfamiliar.

Maybe some parts look just like some place you recognize - whether or not you want to be there.

What will you find? Who will you find?

You could wander into any situation here, the limits are your imagination and personal experiences...


BOATING



Paddle boats and rowboats are available at the lake. You are also welcome to go for a swim in the sparkling waters, which are cool and inviting - at least on the surface. Most visitors encounter nothing sinister here yet there are whispers of some creature living deeper within the lake. What is it? The stories vary depending upon who is telling it.

Check out the lake and find out for yourself. Probably nothing bad will happen...


ARCHERY AND MORE

The Activities Area is extensive and seemingly unlimited in what you can find to occupy your time. There's an archery range; a shooting range; table tennis and regular tennis. You want to try something? You'll find it somewhere here. There's even a carnival section with a merry-go-round and dodge 'em cars, accommodating all ages who just want to have a bit of harmless fun.

Whether or not something darker is lurking... well, again there are rumours but nobody knows for sure.


PETTING ZOO AND HORSE-RIDING



The zoo appears to house every animal, bird and living creature you have heard of - and some you haven't. Cuddle a koala. Hold a python. Let an eagle sit on your arm or head. Even the more dangerous animals are mostly tame enough to not attack you - usually. Mishaps can occur.

The staff and signage all encourage that you pet them, regardless of how cute or deadly they are. You should be fine.

Is that a unicorn? Yes, even mythological creatures can be found here.

Horse-riding is also available and you may even ride out of the zoo and take to the forest or mountain trails. Nibbles provided for the horses.


RELAX



Just want to unwind? Visit the lovely park and smell the gorgeous flowers. Take a bouquet with you. There are park benches, sheltered and unsheltered to enjoy the pleasant weather. If a sudden rain hits, you can enjoy that from the shelters.

Or spend some time shopping and browsing; having a meal at the food court.

All the staff encourage you to relax. If you ask, they may even direct you to the spa and massage facilities for extra relaxation time.

Whatever you want or need, you will find it at The Resort.

Comments

[bindlestifflost]

He notices the cold eyes, has an instinct for that kind of thing with all his time on the road and the sorts of folks looking to hire. It's not much of a damper on his mood at his good catch, just a little something to keep note of in the back of his mind. Ain't a crime for a man not to be genuine in his friendliness to strangers, and he did almost whack him with a fish.

"No mister, please. Just George. An' you?" How anybody can wrap up like that on a day like this is a mystery. He's sweating a little already out of his jacket. It's more humid here than he's used to.

[oneisthe]

"A man after my own heart. Just Peter will do, then." His hands are in his pocket as he surveys his potential meal. What a funny little place this is. Idyllic, really. It reminds him, in some measure, of the Lukas Estate where he'd grown up, wandering the grounds alone, unattended. It makes him ache inside to think of that time before he'd understood the purpose of it all. What a wonderfully painful thing.

"Tell me, George, how long have you been out here? I haven't seen anyone since the resort staff were handing me pamphlets." A mist begins to creep across the water from a nearby copse of trees. "Honestly, this feels like the sort of place you could go days without seeing another soul if you wanted to. Lovely hiking."

[bindlestifflost]

"Peter." He touches the brim of his hat with a quick finger. Now that this is turning into more of a conversation and less of a meeting in passing, he decides to leave the pole alone. He's got a couple of fish in his bucket, enough for dinner later if he doesn't feel like the social pull of people in the restaurants and dining spots.

"Dunno, really." There's a shrug, as quick and abrupt as the other gesture. "Easy to get lost to it when you got nowhere to be." Maybe he started out some time earlier in the morning? He glances up to check the sun's position. "I guess a couple of hours." Come to think of it, he can't say for sure how long he has been here in the broader sense, either, or how it happened. He can have a sit down at dinner and try to sort all that out then.

[oneisthe]

"No one waiting for you at home?" His brows rise. "Or are you more the independent sort?"

There's a smile curling the Peter's lips again. The mist is getting to the point that it's more noticeable, drifting toward them along the shore.

[bindlestifflost]

"Some a' both," he says. Yeah, he doesn't like that smile much.

The mist is pretty weird given there's no shift in the weather that he can see. He's not drawing any connections between the conversation and the changing environment. Both of them are making him think he might like to pick up his pail and pole and call it a day. Maybe find some of the people he'd initially set out to avoid. His gaze flicks over to the bucket with the thought.

"You?" He's still conversational, not quite ready to throw in the towel. This fella has given him no reason to be rude.

[oneisthe]

"I try not to take on any particular ties. Life's so much less complicated that way, wouldn't you agree?" He takes a step toward George, closing the distance and glancing down into the pail. His tone is still light, friendly without any actual warmth behind it. "Easier than worrying about the 'one that got away,' in any case!"

His boot toes the bucket, threatening to tip it out.

[bindlestifflost]

"Hey!" His voice goes sharp and indignant, and he lunges forward in a bend to try to catch the lip of the pail before it can tip. "You're messin' with a man's supper." It's a harsh rebuke. There are fewer things quicker to lead to a fight with him than that. He can already feel his fists wanting to bunch and his blood rising.

Doesn't sit totally well thinking of cleaning an old man's clock. If the old man doesn't have the sense not to go poking where he shouldn't and hasn't learned it by now, George figures somebody ought to teach him, just the same.

[oneisthe]

"You are very tense, George." There's a quiet huff of a laugh as Peter removes his boot. "I wouldn't ever do something like that. Such a fuss. You really ought to relax."

The mist is upon them, curling around and past Peter, sending a stark chill through the air as it begins to obscure the sun.

"High blood pressure is a killer."

[bindlestifflost]

"Yeah? Pound sand. Think I don't know someone full a' shit when I see 'em?" He bends the rest of the way to snatch the handle of the pail. Water sloshes, the fish inside splashing their agitation at the rough shift.

Something is very wrong. Off. It's not that he hasn't seen his fair share of quick weather changes. He has. He has endured outdoors a lot more than most. It's why he's now in a hurry to try to take his pail and move away from the lake edge. There ought to still be sunlight on higher ground. Best of all, he'll leave this abercrombie to his own company.

[oneisthe]

"Have a nice walk in the woods! I'm sure I'll be seeing you around..." Peter calls as the sky above begins to dim, and he steps into a place between this world and another, one that lets him pass unseen as he watches. Bad habit, playing with his food like this, but he does so enjoy it from time to time.

As George storms off, the mist only thickens to a dense fog until it's a virtual wall around him. It's cold. Much too cold for the warm day it had been, and the world has grown quieter with every step away from the shore. Soon enough, there's only the sound that George is making. The lap of the water from the shore quiets, there's no wind to stir the branches, and the birds seem to have decided, as a group, to stop singing.

There is perfect silence in the wood. Peter watches from a short distance away, following the other man, a phantom in this domain.

[bindlestifflost]

He only just manages to snag the strap of his bindle in his hurry to get away from there. He shoulders it with a rude sounding snort. Seeing him around his foot. Not if he can help it.

His speed doesn't last long, though, not with the pea soup embracing him in its wet, cold blanket. He slows nearly to a crawl with his eyes mostly downward so he doesn't turn his ankle in a sudden rut or walk himself off a ridge. On his way down this morning, he'd made note of anywhere the trail was a little steep or chancy. Now, he'll be lucky if he can find the trailhead at all.

He stops long enough to take out his jacket and shrug it on, fingers quick on the buttons. It ought to be warmer than it is. "Well, shit." It's a low mutter. He probably should just sit down and wait it out, find some brush, get a fire going. A fire would go a long way toward making him feel better about all of this. For some reason, he can't quite force himself to get moving on that. He shivers. The bucket sloshes, but the fish have gone quiet, too.

[oneisthe]

Those quiet words practically ring out in the stillness, echoing strangely against the fog. Peter steps forward and leans down to touch the bucket. It turns absolutely icy to the touch in George's hand and the fish that were once there are simply gone now. He was fussing so much about them. Fish make for too much companionship here. Better he be well and truly alone to let it sink into him.

Sit down, give up, give in. There's really no point in walking anywhere until this all lifts. If it ever does. Why waste effort moving around, trying anything. Better to just wait. And wait.

And wait.

Peter wills those thoughts into the mist. He even gives George a dry little patch of ground not too far away from where he is. Such a nice place to sit and just never get up again.

[bindlestifflost]

He grunts in surprise and drops the pail, wringing and rubbing at his cold stung fingers. A quick dig into jacket pockets has his work gloves out. He tugs them on and hugs himself tighter. Is he dreaming? He'd thought so when he first found this place and all its entertainments. It was so clearly not California, and now? Dreams and nightmares are just two sides of the same coin.

It's almost a relief to find somewhere he can sit that looks more comfortable than the rest of the damp, all but colorless grass. He sinks down heavily and leans an elbow on his bindle. He's still thinking about that fire in a more abstract way. Mostly, it doesn't seem to matter as much.

Few things do since Lennie. He has kept on the move, and it has done a good job of keeping those thoughts at bay. Now, with nothing to distract him, it returns, that terrible day. He can still hear the sharp crack of the gun. "Shit," he says again. Much quieter. Why'd he have to go mess with that puppy? Why couldn't he, just for once, have done what he was told?

[oneisthe]

In a place like this, time rarely works as it should. People might age, but they'll never die of thirst, hunger. The pangs can be there, but the longer you can draw out that isolation, the longer the meal lasts. Slow digestion. Peter lets the man sit with his thoughts, pouring the silence and the nothing down upon him. The fog thickens further and there are no longer trees or grass. There is only the mist and George.

He goes away for awhile, wanders off to be truly alone, himself, before meandering back to his prey to check in sometime later. Whether or not George has moved, Peter finds him. Has it been an hour? A day or two? Years? It doesn't really matter.

My, but doesn't he have a taste about him? There's a loss here. Peter's no avatar of the Eye, but can sense that much. The One Alone does so favor such for its meals. Curiosity does get the better of him, though; he's always been curious about the lives he watched from the outside, playing them out in his mind to make himself ache and shiver, a child pressing against the glass and wondering after things he can never have.

"Who was it, George?" Peter's invisible as he steps up behind George, and his voice is filled with mock-sympathy as it echoes softly all around the fog, coming from nowhere, in particular. "We all lose someone, don't we? Everyone in the end, really. And you're left to rely on... yourself. Alone."

[bindlestifflost]

It has been so long since he heard another voice that he startles a bit. That one sounds...vaguely familiar. He's having a hard time thinking straight. Maybe it's just all part of the dream, too, a dream of a dream, or even some disembodied part of himself talking to him for lack of anything else to do. He's no philosopher and not much of one for imagination outside the confines of simple things. Homey things. Lennie and his rabbits.

"Lennie Small," he says. There's a change in his voice from all that harshness, all the cussing. There's fondness and pain wrapped in the same package. He rubs one gloved hand slowly over the palm of the other as he thinks about what he wants to say. "Funny name for such a big guy. Kinda guy who didn't belong in such a big body." One that never knew his own strength, one who would have gotten by so much better if he'd been the size of George instead. And if George had been as big as Lennie? Nobody'd ever have touched him hard. Wouldn't'a dared.

"Took me too long to realize I relied on him, too. Yeah." He'd be worse than he is by far. Not that it's saying so much these days.

cw: gaslighting

[oneisthe]

Peter makes a face to himself. Sentiment. How detestable. It makes him shift uncomfortably to hear the regard in the other man's voice. He wants to destroy that, steal away even the fond memories, turn them to ice and mist.

"That sounds like the sort of friend you'd make up for yourself, doesn't it? Those memories of him... think closer. He wasn't actually there, was he? That was just... you. It's always only been you, George."

[bindlestifflost]

While there's power in that voice, that suggestion, enough that he finds himself wondering a little bit, there's also still power in everything he had with Lennie, everything they were together, from the birds circling the windmill when they were just kids to the smell of fried chicken at Lennie's Aunt Clara's, the way her eyes bored into him on her deathbed and the strength left in her papery hand when she extracted her promise. You take care of that boy, George. You promise me.

Lennie's dumb, whooping laughter when he was delighted. His piteous sniveling when he was scared or sad, and how often he was the source of that stings like cold water down the back.

He clenches his jaw. "Nothin' that good could ever come from me. Naw. Naw," he repeats. "I'm less real than Lennie." And suddenly, he's twisting up from his seat with his right fist swinging in the direction of that damnable voice as hard as he can.