1. The only thing that appears special about this area is that it's pretty roomy with a slow current and warmer water than in other areas. It's the jellyfish lounge, basically. There's nothing particularly important here, but it's a chill place where the jellyfish hang around the water cooler and talk shop, or whatever it is jellyfish do. Honestly no example will be funnier than 10,000 wiggles on the jellyfitbit, so why don't we just use that example.
2. Unfortunately, there aren't any memories on display that are clearly from after Candlenights. (DC 18; 10) There are a few memories here and there, blipping in and out, that are blurry or otherwise obscured. None of the trademark Voidfish static, and there's no definitive way to say whether the blurriness is due to unreality, outside interference, or simple deterioration of memory.
3. (No DC; 18) What Wash ends up finding isn't immediately recognizable as something important. To a less savvy octopus, it would seem like a fellow mollusc throwing a tantrum. Because across the bell of a medium-sized jellyfish, something black and inky spreads in tendrils, in tangible clouds. A closer look reveals something flickering in the black, flecks of luminescent color. And a hand, swallowed up by the blackness like a skintight glove, reaching out from the midst of the tangle as the tendrils become something more like pitch-dark vines.
The point of view here is from the side and below — looking up. Whoever's perspective this is, they're very short. When they reach out to the hand being swallowed up by blackness, their arm is sun-beaten and strong, worn and clever hands with nails cut short. On their wrist is a Bureau of Balance bracer.
Wash can't hear sound through the jellyfish, but the whole image shakes as though the memory has been slammed by a sonic boom. Just on the edge of vision is a flash of something silver. The viewer rushes forward — there's a flash of red hair as the perspective rushes backward to reveal a redheaded gnome running towards danger as quickly as his legs can carry him — and the whole memory flashes white.
That's the end.
4. They are definitely still keeping an eye on him, although they don't seem wary. More curious than anything. An educated guess might bring one to the conclusion that, while they have certainly seen octopi before, they don't ordinarily move so purposefully, and they're wondering if this is an octopus at all actually? If not, what is it?
The large jellyfish are displaying the same random variety of memories as the small ones. None of them show anything especially relevant to Wash's inquiries, but one is displaying a particularly irreverent moment from Bureau summer camp that's sufficient to draw Wash in. This jellyfish draws backwards a bit when Wash approaches, but stops retreating after it recovers from its startle, beaming an image of childlike hands drawing a question mark in crayon.
no subject
2. Unfortunately, there aren't any memories on display that are clearly from after Candlenights. (DC 18; 10) There are a few memories here and there, blipping in and out, that are blurry or otherwise obscured. None of the trademark Voidfish static, and there's no definitive way to say whether the blurriness is due to unreality, outside interference, or simple deterioration of memory.
3. (No DC; 18) What Wash ends up finding isn't immediately recognizable as something important. To a less savvy octopus, it would seem like a fellow mollusc throwing a tantrum. Because across the bell of a medium-sized jellyfish, something black and inky spreads in tendrils, in tangible clouds. A closer look reveals something flickering in the black, flecks of luminescent color. And a hand, swallowed up by the blackness like a skintight glove, reaching out from the midst of the tangle as the tendrils become something more like pitch-dark vines.
The point of view here is from the side and below — looking up. Whoever's perspective this is, they're very short. When they reach out to the hand being swallowed up by blackness, their arm is sun-beaten and strong, worn and clever hands with nails cut short. On their wrist is a Bureau of Balance bracer.
Wash can't hear sound through the jellyfish, but the whole image shakes as though the memory has been slammed by a sonic boom. Just on the edge of vision is a flash of something silver. The viewer rushes forward — there's a flash of red hair as the perspective rushes backward to reveal a redheaded gnome running towards danger as quickly as his legs can carry him — and the whole memory flashes white.
That's the end.
4. They are definitely still keeping an eye on him, although they don't seem wary. More curious than anything. An educated guess might bring one to the conclusion that, while they have certainly seen octopi before, they don't ordinarily move so purposefully, and they're wondering if this is an octopus at all actually? If not, what is it?
The large jellyfish are displaying the same random variety of memories as the small ones. None of them show anything especially relevant to Wash's inquiries, but one is displaying a particularly irreverent moment from Bureau summer camp that's sufficient to draw Wash in. This jellyfish draws backwards a bit when Wash approaches, but stops retreating after it recovers from its startle, beaming an image of childlike hands drawing a question mark in crayon.