Worlebury-juxta-Mare: Difference between revisions
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do lorn-flukes even exist in the High Wilderness? I searched the SSkies wiki and not a single result came up. |
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''"Worlebury-juxta-Mare is precisely like every other weekend destination: shabbier than advertised and bristling with ways to spend more money than intended."'' | ''"Worlebury-juxta-Mare is precisely like every other weekend destination: shabbier than advertised and bristling with ways to spend more money than intended."'' | ||
{{Sky Location | |||
|title1=Worlebury-juxta-Mare | |||
|image1=Worlebury-juxta-Mare.png | |||
|caption1=Candyfloss! Toffee apples! Mysterious meat! Art from Sunless Skies. | |||
|region=[[Albion]] | |||
|allegiance=[[New London]] | |||
''[[Flukes|They Who Must Grieve]]'' | |||
|music=[https://failbettergames.bandcamp.com/track/allbeyond-skai Allbeyond Skai] | |||
}} | |||
'''Worlebury-juxta-Mare''' is [[Albion]]'s premier tourist destination - a glittering little amusement park of a space-town, with rather strange and Rubbery secrets. ...And a cult, apparently, because everything's a cult these days. Sadly, the proprietors seem to have contracted a [[Flukes|Fluke]] for its expertise in London's more Earthly history. Though it did its job with all the eagerness and competence of [[Rubbery Men|other attempts at mimicking human behavior and history]], there are anomalies that it might be best not to think about. | |||
{| class="article-table mw-collapsible mw-collapsed" data-expandtext="show" data-collapsetext="hide" width="100%" | {| class="article-table mw-collapsible mw-collapsed" data-expandtext="show" data-collapsetext="hide" width="100%" | ||
Revision as of 08:17, 30 April 2019
"Worlebury-juxta-Mare is precisely like every other weekend destination: shabbier than advertised and bristling with ways to spend more money than intended."
Worlebury-juxta-Mare is Albion's premier tourist destination - a glittering little amusement park of a space-town, with rather strange and Rubbery secrets. ...And a cult, apparently, because everything's a cult these days. Sadly, the proprietors seem to have contracted a Fluke for its expertise in London's more Earthly history. Though it did its job with all the eagerness and competence of other attempts at mimicking human behavior and history, there are anomalies that it might be best not to think about.
 Actually ponder this for a second... (spoilers)
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| Well, the whole thing's an illusion, which leads to things like donkeys that puke their innards and hatch from polyps. And you can ride their bellies. And they won't stop screaming. It's perhaps for the best that the acidic mist makes it impossible to stay in the resort for too long. | ||
