ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ sᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇ (mysticism) wrote in stromaisleic, @ 2023-06-26 08:40:00 |
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Opening portals to retrieve lost islanders was certainly an experience - especially because they had been scattered to the winds, it took some time to even figure out where, and Stephen couldn't simply open a portal back to Stroma when he was done in one spot, or even portal directly to one spot either. No, there was apparently a sequence - and it was surely their overlords way of granting a bit of freedom, dangling the carrot, but also imposing rules and a desire to not be too generous. Fuck 'em, honestly. But the silver lining was a chance to stock up on supplies and he could hold the portal open long enough to get that done - so he'd take the brief crumbs where he was able to get them. Iceland, his first stop, was beautiful - even after a plague. Depending on the time of year you'd get snowy Mordor vibes, where landscapes of moss and stone were pocketed with pools of snow and steam, or this time of year it was lichen gone overboard - it covered every rock and mountain and transformed the landscape into an entire frenzy of green. The midnight sun washed the world in a golden haze. Kind of a magic hour, really - a really long hour. But for now he settled for portaling into a small village - the shops here seemed quiet and empty, but the sparking orange circle opened within one to see if anyone was inside. |