[The mercenary life was (decidedly) not for him. Throughout the past month, Vincent's days had been busy. He'd been around. Here, there, and practically everywhere, actually- working on this or that little job in order to get paid. Even then, he had barely made enough to keep himself fed.
He had no idea, frankly, how Cloud had done the merc gig for so long. Every day was arduous. Big jobs such as monster hunting or settling (often violent) disputes among the rival crews of Eltrut exhausted his body. More frequent jobs, such as finding lost animals or cleaning the city of strange plants or the remnants of the Ghoul's Moon festival exhausted his mind- and honestly- he was beginning to get more than a little jaded.
This job, at least, was somewhat different. It had come while he was at the MANTA office, counting his (measly) pay from an excursion that had taken him the better part of two days. Perhaps the sharklady at the counter had witnessed the reticence in his face when he had counted the three coins he'd been granted for completion of his previous task. Or perhaps it was simply because he had become quite a common face amongst the riftfarers that had dropped into the establishment to check out the jobs on offer.
But she had said something. Something about an island that could be reached on foot- where he might be able to earn a little extra by bringing her something from it- given that as the proud mother of one to two hundred sharkperson pups, she had no time to get her lunch on the way to work, let alone even think of what she'd feed her babies with when she got home from her workday. Vincent's ears had perked, of course. And some hours later, he had found himself upon Hungry-la Island.
...There had been no lie. The trees literally grew meat. The smell of such was strange. The fallen meat, rotting upon the ground, was sickly-sweet and almost putrid. The sight of insects scurrying about their finds offputting. Yet it was combined with the smell of the meat that yet hung upon the branches of these trees- cooked, fresh, and practically mouth-watering. Curiosity had compelled Vincent to touch one of the chicken legs that hung upon a tree. And yes. Strangely, the thing was warm to the touch- as if it had just come out of an oven.
…Such a strange place this world was. Such a very, very strange place.]
OPEN: HUNGRY-LA ISLAND
He had no idea, frankly, how Cloud had done the merc gig for so long. Every day was arduous. Big jobs such as monster hunting or settling (often violent) disputes among the rival crews of Eltrut exhausted his body. More frequent jobs, such as finding lost animals or cleaning the city of strange plants or the remnants of the Ghoul's Moon festival exhausted his mind- and honestly- he was beginning to get more than a little jaded.
This job, at least, was somewhat different. It had come while he was at the MANTA office, counting his (measly) pay from an excursion that had taken him the better part of two days. Perhaps the sharklady at the counter had witnessed the reticence in his face when he had counted the three coins he'd been granted for completion of his previous task. Or perhaps it was simply because he had become quite a common face amongst the riftfarers that had dropped into the establishment to check out the jobs on offer.
But she had said something. Something about an island that could be reached on foot- where he might be able to earn a little extra by bringing her something from it- given that as the proud mother of one to two hundred sharkperson pups, she had no time to get her lunch on the way to work, let alone even think of what she'd feed her babies with when she got home from her workday. Vincent's ears had perked, of course. And some hours later, he had found himself upon Hungry-la Island.
...There had been no lie. The trees literally grew meat. The smell of such was strange. The fallen meat, rotting upon the ground, was sickly-sweet and almost putrid. The sight of insects scurrying about their finds offputting. Yet it was combined with the smell of the meat that yet hung upon the branches of these trees- cooked, fresh, and practically mouth-watering. Curiosity had compelled Vincent to touch one of the chicken legs that hung upon a tree. And yes. Strangely, the thing was warm to the touch- as if it had just come out of an oven.
…Such a strange place this world was. Such a very, very strange place.]