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Duke didn’t know it, but all the clothing on the Rouge that wasn’t currently on his body vanished the moment he crossed into Fandom waters.
What he did know was that going from April 2010 to July 2020 was a much more obvious transition than it had been the other way around. It was like sailing into a vat of hot jello. He squinted into the sun, then stripped off his overshirt, letting it fall to the floor of the wheelhouse.
The overshirt vanished, too. That he noticed.
". . . Yeah, I'm definitely back in Fandom."
He sailed into port without managing to lose any more clothes, but the ones he was wearing (an undershirt and a pair of fairly threadbare cotton shorts) were rapidly going damp in the face of the sweltering, cloying air. He was hard-pressed as he dropped anchor and tied the Rouge down at her usual slip not to strip off the rest of his clothes and just dive straight into the water. He sent out a few texts, then flopped onto the deck to splay out like a starfish.
"Swear to god, if this place got invaded by a clothing-eating heat demon while I was away I will turn this boat around and go right back to Maine."
Well, no. He wouldn't. But he'd really want to.
[open! work is going to do its best to break me today, so some SP will be in effect BUT I NEED DISTRACTIONS]
What he did know was that going from April 2010 to July 2020 was a much more obvious transition than it had been the other way around. It was like sailing into a vat of hot jello. He squinted into the sun, then stripped off his overshirt, letting it fall to the floor of the wheelhouse.
The overshirt vanished, too. That he noticed.
". . . Yeah, I'm definitely back in Fandom."
He sailed into port without managing to lose any more clothes, but the ones he was wearing (an undershirt and a pair of fairly threadbare cotton shorts) were rapidly going damp in the face of the sweltering, cloying air. He was hard-pressed as he dropped anchor and tied the Rouge down at her usual slip not to strip off the rest of his clothes and just dive straight into the water. He sent out a few texts, then flopped onto the deck to splay out like a starfish.
"Swear to god, if this place got invaded by a clothing-eating heat demon while I was away I will turn this boat around and go right back to Maine."
Well, no. He wouldn't. But he'd really want to.
[open! work is going to do its best to break me today, so some SP will be in effect BUT I NEED DISTRACTIONS]
