[Video]

[callada]

[The feed turns on to show Rosinante's face. He's usually pale, sure, but even more so right now, and his pupils are practically pinholes in his wide eyes. His hair is blowing wildly in the wind, only it looks like the wind is coming from below, and his other hand is pressed firmly to the hat on his head to keep from losing it. In the background, a dark sky with thick clouds that almost look like they're boiling sits over the top of an island with colorful pastel buildings. Oil street lamps are lit even though it should be daytime, and almost nobody is out on the streets.]

Found something I don't think I can make sense of on my own. Hate to put out a general broadcast for help but I don't know who's best trained to handle this.

[He's speaking with the sort of calm that implies he doesn't fully believe what he's about to show is even real. The camera pans away from his face and downward. What should be the sea, where the beach meets waves, instead is a deep precipice. The sand blows upward from his feet as the air rushes upward. Far below, the ocean waves slope downward and crash into masses of dark, spiked tentacles, and toothy jaws open only to yield more toothy jaws in some horrible monstrous recursion.]

Coordinates are attached to this transmission. Problem is, once you're here, I don't think you can leave. Not until this... stops.

Comments

action, this just seems correct

[gallinago]

[ Screaming is an appropriate response. ]

[ Screaming is definitely an appropriate response while pelting uphill along a part of the "beach" that should definitely be underwater right now, trying to outrun grasping tentacles while also rummaging in his bag. ]

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA CALTROP HELL AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[ Hey he found whatever he was digging for! He upends a drawstring bag at his hip as he runs and caltrops just rain down the path behind him. THE TENTACLES ARE DISPLEASED and so is whatever is attached to them down below. It joins in the screaming. That's not a pleasant sound. ]

[callada]

[Well the screaming sure attracts his attention. Where Rosinante is standing, the beasts are far, far below - but the beach is warped strangely, sloping downward dangerously in one section which he had stayed far away from. For, you know. Good reasons.

But not everyone has common sense, apparently, and Rosinante is quick to turn and draw his pistol in case some panicked townsperson stumbled into something he doesn't expect any of them can actually handle. Said person at least has some sort of defenses, but it's only making the tentacles lash out wildly as they poke themselves on the bed of sudden thorns.

Rosinante bolts across the sand toward whoever that is - oh, he'll recognize in a second from the wanted posters - in a bid to reach them and help pull them up the treacherous slope. Meanwhile, he fires a shot at a tentacle as it whips forward, and severs it, which results in a spray of vibrant pink blood into the sky which melts the sand on impact, turning it glass-smooth. Yikes.]

Get out of there! Toward the city, they can't reach that far!

[Maybe. Gods, he hopes they can't.]

[gallinago]

[ The first answer is just more screaming. ]

[ And then the sound of glass being scorched or whatever the hell reaches his ears, and Usopp pelts past Rosinante at double speed. ]

USOPPDASHYOUSHOULDRUNTOO!!!

[callada]

[ok well he's not wrong.

Rosinante slips in the sand as he pivots, falling straight down, but scrambles to get back up onto his feet and run the other direction as the beasts below lurch upward, grasping for the two as they flee. He quickly makes up for the lost few seconds from the fall as his long legs outpace the reach of the creatures, and just to be safe he reaches for his new companion by clutching a handful of his jacket and hauling him along faster.]

Come on! Maybe if we get far enough away it'll give up.

[Maybe, look, who knows. It's too hard to guess how cosmic horrors think, if they even do.]

video

[notnapoleon]

[first things first] Just don't fall into this, whatever this is, Cora-san.