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The rain rain rain came down down down. Again. And Again. And again. It wasn’t unheard of for the storms on the Isle to so bad that the basement of the school flooded. The last time that had happened it had been bad enough. This time it somehow managed to be worse. Spectacularly worse.
For one thing, the ocean was beating the shore so much worse than ever that the gators and crocs weren’t a danger. Being there at all was, however. Fishing would have to be held in abeyance unless someone was certain they couldn’t be knocked out and dragged out to sea. Any fishing equipment that had been out when the storms started up might not survive. But if everyone was smart, the people would. Probably. Maybe. See again: if the people were smart.
But it was worse even than just that, bad as that was. In no previous storm that anyone could recall did water rush in through the vine walls like a dam had burst. On all sides where the thorn walls existed. Rushing water full of dirt and muck and the occasional interesting bit of trash from elsewhere on the Isle. Oh look, is that half a hair brush?
Doctor Facilier declared this a good time to focus on lessons, since they could be held indoors. But even that didn’t last long. It wasn’t just that the thunder was so loud as to drown out most attempts at teaching. It was that after a few days of unrelenting rain the rest of the school joined the basement in a rush to be underwater. By the end of the first week, the roof was looking tempting, even though that would be staying directly under the rain. A few days later tempting became imperative for anyone who couldn’t natively breathe under water.
The roof was slanted however and crowded for all the people on the Isle. It was time to become very friendly with each other, and maybe River would forgive people for messing up the message written in stones that had been up there since soon after she arrived. But at least it would only be a week or so of enforced togetherness before the rain eased enough that the bravest could consider going down to bail out the school, if - that is - they could figure out where to bail to. The whole area around the school was also under water for a few days more. The roof and the tops of the vine walls were the only things high enough to stand on, though perhaps standing atop the vinewall was only done by those very sure of their balance when wet and slippery. That said however, this might be the first time anyone has had a real chance to get up on top of them...
For one thing, the ocean was beating the shore so much worse than ever that the gators and crocs weren’t a danger. Being there at all was, however. Fishing would have to be held in abeyance unless someone was certain they couldn’t be knocked out and dragged out to sea. Any fishing equipment that had been out when the storms started up might not survive. But if everyone was smart, the people would. Probably. Maybe. See again: if the people were smart.
But it was worse even than just that, bad as that was. In no previous storm that anyone could recall did water rush in through the vine walls like a dam had burst. On all sides where the thorn walls existed. Rushing water full of dirt and muck and the occasional interesting bit of trash from elsewhere on the Isle. Oh look, is that half a hair brush?
Doctor Facilier declared this a good time to focus on lessons, since they could be held indoors. But even that didn’t last long. It wasn’t just that the thunder was so loud as to drown out most attempts at teaching. It was that after a few days of unrelenting rain the rest of the school joined the basement in a rush to be underwater. By the end of the first week, the roof was looking tempting, even though that would be staying directly under the rain. A few days later tempting became imperative for anyone who couldn’t natively breathe under water.
The roof was slanted however and crowded for all the people on the Isle. It was time to become very friendly with each other, and maybe River would forgive people for messing up the message written in stones that had been up there since soon after she arrived. But at least it would only be a week or so of enforced togetherness before the rain eased enough that the bravest could consider going down to bail out the school, if - that is - they could figure out where to bail to. The whole area around the school was also under water for a few days more. The roof and the tops of the vine walls were the only things high enough to stand on, though perhaps standing atop the vinewall was only done by those very sure of their balance when wet and slippery. That said however, this might be the first time anyone has had a real chance to get up on top of them...
Foulques OTA
Date: 2026-09-21 02:16 am (UTC)From:Once it became clear that the water would not stop rising any time soon, Foulques marshalled his Island improvement class- and anyone else who would listen- to help pack whatever could be packed into every available waterproof container. "Give priority to food and other necessities," he ordered. "If you have anything dear to you, wrap it in crocodile leather and keep it close; tis not ideal but it is the best that can be done under the circumstances."
Hunkering Down Up High
The rising waters had at last forced them all to climb up on the school's roof. Precarious as it was, it was preferable to being drowned. With his father's priceless lute wrapped as well as he could manage in crocodile leather, case and all, he clung to both it and Chara, shielding both from the weather as best he could, shifting as the wind did to try and block the worst of it.
Hunkering Down Up High
Date: 2026-09-21 02:21 am (UTC)From:"We could go to the fishing shed instead. Or... Or I could swim..." Maybe?
no subject
Date: 2026-09-21 02:25 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2026-09-21 02:30 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2026-09-22 07:54 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2026-09-29 06:28 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2026-10-05 09:45 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2026-10-06 11:54 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2026-10-10 11:33 pm (UTC)From:I thought this was the other thread, but rolling with it
Date: 2026-10-12 10:23 am (UTC)From:Noctis OTA
Date: 2026-09-21 11:12 pm (UTC)From:Noctis hadn't had the displeasure of being on the Isle long enough to recognize the weather as out of the ordinary. Between the rain he'd arrived in, the constant overcast state of the sky, and the general disdainful testimonies of most everyone he'd talked to so far, it seemed like that just might be what it was like here. Of course, once the flooding started, and the general anxiety of everyone around him about the sheer quantity of rain, then he caught on to the coming issues pretty quickly.
He didn't have much of anything to his name, except for the ring, which didn't work here, but was still safely secured on his finger. and the clothes on his back. So he started asking around for things he could help with. Most of the people here seemed pretty distrusting, but hopefully the state of emergency would work to keep everyone receptive of the help.
He'd spent the majority of his first few days here throwing himself at the invisible barriers of the place in every way he could think of until he was exhausted, winded, and his shoulders and flight muscles ached. It was somehow worse the way the Astral's-cursed walls weren't solid, weren't something he could run his fingers along or smash a stick into. Simply that every time he tried to fly farther, or higher, or longer, something stopped him. It was maddening. He felt claustrophobic, trapped, slightly insane. But limitations aside, his wings were still useful enough for helping people lug their possessions up onto the roof.
Before the flooding got too bad, he used his slight aerial advantage to help keep tabs on the beach and the state of things around the cleared sections of the school. Keeping everyone as updated as he could on how bad everything was if they couldn't make it out of the school.
Grounded
Eventually the rain got to a point he couldn't manage flight anymore, and then they were being pushed to the roof of the school. Now, Noctis had never been known as a hyperactive child, or even as a very active one, and certainly not anymore. Lazy, sleepy, slow, all things much more common to hear from Ignis or Gladio or some other staff member around the citadel these days.Well, at least, it had been, before. But that had never been in the context of Noctis being grounded. It was a running joke that Noctis spent more time in the air than on two feet, that if he could, he'd simply live up there, forever suspended amongst the clouds.
It didn't take long crammed in on the crowded roof, in close proximity to too many people period, and definitely too many people he barely knew. He was wet, miserable, tired, and his wings weighed a thousand pounds his feathers were so soaked through. But try as he might, he couldn't stop fidgeting, feathers twitching and fingers tapping a restless rhythm. He needed space. He needed to fly, to at least spread his wings, have room to pace, something, anything. But he couldn't. All he could so was sit hunched like a gargoyle on bis little corner of the roof and try and resist the temptation to bite all his nails down to the bed.