You know what everyone needs after rampant robotic attacks and another iteration of clone wars? A vacation! That’s right everyone, you deserve this. CERES understands what you need. CERES is here for you all the time, so never doubt that this is a pleasure colony, and they are here to look after all of your needs. Kick your feet up, relax, and let CERES Recreation and Activity Necessity Keepers (Team RANK, that is) set you up with your ideal getaway.
It’s as if you can sense the incoming relaxation and luxury before you even completely finish loading. There’s the warmth encompassing your entire body as your code gets transferred into this particular ViViD Level. A cool, refreshing breeze hits you. The sounds of waves gently lapping against the coast fill you with relaxation. The sun, the sand, the surfs, it’s all there – welcome to the beach, baby!
An echoing greeting message from the ocean comes next, if you can translate it.
 OOOOOOOOOOOOHMAHH GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHD.
YOOOOOOOOOOOORRRALL SOOOOOOOOOOOOO KYOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOT.
KYOOOOOOOOOOOT EEEENAAAAUUUUUUUF TOOOOOOOOOOOOO EEEEEEEEEEEEEEET.
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PHASE I [ 08 00 ] That said, isn’t that breeze a little… too strong? It feels like it’s brushing up against all of you, if you know what I mean. When you open your eyes and look down, it becomes rather clear why. It seems that you’ve found yourself in some pretty interesting attire. Everyone. No exceptions. You appear to have two options – be overcome and scream like the Victorian maiden your heart says you are, or strut like a model in this stuff. Turn some heads! Work that up do!
But don’t worry, we’re also conscious about safety here at CERES! Therefore everyone’s also been provided a pair of super high-tech safety-tested appendage protection floatation devices (STAPFD for short.)
At least everyone around you is caught in the same sort of attire – and everyone around you also appears to be stuck inside a giant sand castle. It’s entirely malleable to what you want it to be! Want to see a fancy sand bidet? Feel like adding a sand statue in your honor? Think that wall should now be a door? Well, with enough perseverance, you can make it happen!
Just uh, be careful about getting sand in your… everywhere.
PHASE II [ 1000 ] Someone broke it. Not pointing any fingers, even though you sure do seem like a prime suspect, but someone broke it.
It almost starts like an earthquake with how the castle starts to rumble, the sand shaking right beneath your feet. And then the walls right next to you start to cave in followed promptly by the ceiling right… above your head. Oh dear. The sand starts to run and fall, losing its structure and shape. The hallway behind you starts to cave in, ceiling first and then the walls follow suit. Now the sand really is getting everywhere – but not just uncomfortable places. It’s in your hair, your eyes, your nose…. this sure doesn’t seem like a pleasant way to go!
Best to start running – there’s a trusty drawbridge to get over the moat (because what’s a sandcastle without a moat?) but who knows how long until that, too, is going to give way? Best to cross over it before it starts to shake and disappear too. Or if you don’t make it, hopefully you can land some pretty impressive airtime to make it to the other side!
If not, well...there'll be the sensation of sand crushing down upon you, filling your mouth and eyes, and you won't be able to breathe at all – and then you're alive again on the beach (but possibly in yet another new, uncomfortable, skimpy swimsuit). Honestly, be more careful, would you?
PHASE III [ 1200 ] However, once you do make it to the other side, it’s all smooth sailing from there! Or is it? Hah, as they say, life sure can be a beach.
Which is what this is.
Welcome to your Beach Episode, folks. Now that you’ve made it out of the collapsing sand castle, you’ve made it to the luxurious, picturesque golden coastline. Sure, you’re coughing up fine, luxurious, sand dust right now and you’ve definitely gotten sand in all of your crevices thanks to your swimsuit, but that’s okay! Go take a soak in the ocean or something or cool off with a smoothie. There’s a smoothie shack off into the distance, complete with a long chalkboard with… well, probably a few familiar names? And some unfamiliar ingredients. Sounds appetizing right?
That said, once you do ingest some of the smoothie with the name of a newcomer, you might suddenly find yourself feeling a bit… different. You’ll be taking on some of their traits, one of the most intense parts of their personality – or you might need to take a second to sit down because you’re suddenly seeing one of their memories. Whoa. What do they actually put in this stuff?
PHASE IV [ 1500 ] For the brave souls that venture out into the water, you have even more adventures waiting for you. Anyone who’s swimming around, wading in the water—hell, even looking at the water is getting scooped up and deposited in one of these giant orbs. But don’t take up too much room, because someone else is getting shoved right in there with you. Time to get cozy with your new friend, because it's only going to get worse as the waves begin to carry you out into this big, blue, virtual ocean. Hopefully the choppy waves don’t bounce you around too much or – well, you could always get really friendly with a stranger! Why not?
At least until it’s made very clear that fresh air does not make it back into these balls. That seems like a bit of a design flaw. Now what? Fight the other person who’s inhaling all your air? Suffer through it for swimsuit-clad fun? Or if you break it…. well, you sure are stranded out in the ocean. Or are you?
After enough flailing, you’ll be met by a giant, dumb-looking creature who will then eat you whole.
Everything goes dark. This is surely the end --
And then you're in Cerealia proper; it seems that was the exit to the level (but why there?) and you'll find yourself either in one of the fountains or the pond in the park. Either way, you'll be very, very well. And this time, that's not virtual. But hey, at least you'll have all of your stuff with you.
BONUS [ xxxx ] Do you hear that?
Anyone idle on the beach will hear a distant melody coming from further out into the ocean. It’s a beautiful, elegant song that automatically makes the listener stop what they’re doing and immediately wander toward the noise. It takes you a moment to recall – it takes a moment to think about anything now, really – but you remember hearing the smoothie shack owner say something about mermaids populating the beach. Could this be their song calling out to you? Whether you would normally abide by this kind of call or not, you find your feet walking further and further out into the water, the shallows lapping up to your ankles and up and up as you are drawn in by the song.
A rather classic song, though the usual instances of French are also replaced with the very enticing, enchanting nonsense promise of omelette du fromage........and then they try to drown you.
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Leon
[Johnny didn't like Leon's answer, but by now it was a moot point. There was no changing where they were, at least not right this moment, and there was no one else he could go about asking, to check the facts. But when every other word out of his mouth only brought about a dozen more questions, Johnny could feel his focus dribbling out his ear.]
Of course we have rockets, just how primitive you think the 1890's are future-man? They put together a buncha shows with rockets and fire-crackers every fourth of July and shoot 'em up sky high.
[He might not have heard of anyone seeking a career in "rocket-science," but someone had to learn that stuff. He rolls his eyes. It was in the national anthem for crying out loud.
Johnny gives Leon a dubious look, but offers a hand to shake. Even if he'd introduced himself a while back, at least he had a name to put with the possibly-crazy face.]
Huh. Well. You tried.
no subject
[But in all fairness, he also would have assumed the fireworks kind wasn't invented yet in 1890, so he can't argue that much over it. Caught red-handed. Maybe pink-handed.
Speaking of which, he reaches over to shake Johnny's hand; it's not a gesture he's extremely used to, so he's slightly awkward, but it's just hand-shaking. He can manage that. And when this guy's not calling him crazy, he seems pretty cool.]
Johnny Joestar, huh . . . that'd be a great stage name.
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[The guy shakes hands like he hasn't done it much. Maybe he's a foreigner? What'd he say his last name was, Kwat? Coowada? He didn't feel like prying, but he shook the guy's hand and left it at that.]
The papers didn't think so. Always called me Jojo or Joe-kid; I dunno why they always have to shorten things. Just Johnny's fine though.
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[Joestar. Pretty cool. Foreigners have awesome names for celebrities, which . . . apparently this guy was. Suddenly that catches up to him. It's both a surprise and not; sure, Johnny Joestar screams stage name, but he didn't actually expect to be talking to a famous person. What were people even famous for in 1890? He leans on the table and gives Johnny a look, as if trying to appraise what his talent might be.]
You were in the papers, though . . . what'd you do? You an athlete? Or, like, a model? Did they even have models in your time?
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Yeah, well. Probably to keep them from confusing me with my father or something, who the hell knows.
[Johnny was kind of surprised when Leon didn't know of him from the papers, but a future guy probably wouldn't care much about some jockey from a hundred years ago. Modeling though? Really?]
Uh. Yeah sort of. I was- am a jockey. Won the Kentucky Derby when I was just sixteen. They still do that in the future? Kentucky Derby?
[He gave the guy a raised eyebrow though, quirking his mouth a little.]
Modeling huh? Things must have really changed, I thought that stuff was just for like, French girls.
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[The best kind of model, if he does say so himself. But now isn't the time to get distracted by that! Maybe once he's out of ViViD . . .
Whoops. He laughs and shakes that off.]
Actually, my job here in the colony is modeling stuff!
[Baseball gear, which is not information he provides, because way to make a cool job uncool. So enough about that: more about Johnny.]
So you won the Kentucky Derby? Yeah, I've heard of that before. I don't really know a lot about it, it's an American thing! But it's not like we don't get people aiming for it too. Never watched one . . . you just ride the horse, right?
no subject
[Johnny's not quite sure what he's getting at. Gravure? Like... engraving? What the hell are idols? He shakes his head.]
You're a model?
[Though his good bone structure, innate ability to pose, and apply lipstick might say otherwise, Johnny doesn't seem at all interested in the idea of men modeling. Leon's an okay looking guy, but it's a strange concept to wrap his head around. The future is strange, he decides.]
Of course it's an American thing. Why would-
[JUST ride the horse. JUST. Johnny's mouth falls open for a beat and it takes every ounce of self control not to spark flames in his eyes. Apparently people from the future were dumb as shit about horse racing and, he reminded himself with strained patience, it wasn't Leon's fault.]
Yeah. You're just riding something that weighs nearly a ton of solid muscle. Just going around 50 miles an hour on the point of your toes and your ass barely in the saddle. Just on the verge of flying off if your horse tilts to much. There are strict weight limits and intense training and- Do you have any idea-
[He stopped and shook his head.]
No, okay. No. It is not fucking just riding a horse.
no subject
(So he thinks, unfortunately.)]
Whoa, hey, c'mon! I didn't mean it like that! It ain't like I know anything about horses! I've only even seen people ride 'em on TV, and they make it look totally easy!
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Yeah, yeah. I'll just have to find out whatever it is you're good at so I can take a few digs in return, right?
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He winces at that, though; his feelings are mixed there, and way to bring them up and make him go a little complicated inside.]
It's baseball, and trust me, I already know it's totally uncool!
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It's just balls and sticks, right?
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[He is so torn right now between defending baseball and dissing it, he just spills a mishmash of both out of his mouth, basically.]
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Wow, I was just making a point. But thank you for making it so well.
no subject
[He did, and now he's embarrassed as hell that he fell for it. He ducks his head a little on a bright pink blush, glowering.]
no subject
Alright, alright. Just hear that kinda attitude from a lotta people about horse racing, you know? Like it's not a real sport or something.