SHINING WORLD ; a panfandom tropical roleplay

[You're not 100% certain how you got here, but it was unpleasant. There's sand in your shoes or between your toes and the salty air stings your eyes. Even the normally lovely scenery just seems unpleasant, even today. It's somewhat discouraging, but nothing that couldn't normally be overlooked.

Except you're tied at the wrist to a robot, in front of an obstacle course with a very obvious heart and valentine's day motif.]

So... come here often?

[In the middle of a sizable clearing, a large vertical crate is unloaded by a forklift and set down, the forklift immediately retreating from view. The 7-foot-tall crate is covered from top to bottom in customs stickers and labels of ports of entry. One large one from a Norse railway of some sort and another from some television group of some fraternity. Regardless, amid the myriad labels and stamps, stencil-sprayed caution labels in numerous languages. "Danger," "Caution," "Explosive Materials Contained Within."

The crate sits immobile for a few moments before it begins to rock to-and-fro, nails hammered deep in seeming to come undone. After a moment of stillness, the entire front of the box is propelled forward, launching an explosion of packing peanuts as a robot dressed in white and blue garb steps out, stomping a foot down against the earth.]

ONCE AGAIN, I HAVE ARRIVED.

Direct me to the bitches.