August Intro: You Think...You Wink...You Do A Double Blink...

[lifeaftr_mods]

INTRO LOG: AUGUST

Who: Everyone!
What: New souls arrive to the archipelago of LifeAftr.
When: August 3rd
Where: Ensō
Warnings: Mark as needed!

Part I: Get Wrekt
You rouse to a splash of sea salt drying on your skin. A haze of glass-white sand glitters in your vision, dappled by lush palms and thick, curling foliage that disappears into a jungle of deep jade. From behind, crackling wood and sawing rope groan from a mangled life raft ran ashore. A petering wash of tide over pebbled sand fills your ears as you struggle to gain your bearings in a vast portrait of tropical color…

No...no, no, that’s not precisely how this story starts.

Why don't we start over?

You rouse to a splash of sea salt, spraying across yourself and the wooden floor beneath you as it breaks across the edge of the platform. The light as it dances across the sea is blinding, dappling white spots across your vision as you slowly come back to consciousness and realize that - this is not where you last remember being.

The middle of the ocean is likely not a place most recall being at all. As you struggle to fully comprehend the new scenario in which you have found yourself, three things become quickly apparent. The raft you find yourself upon barely constitutes as something that should float, never mind a boat. In the distance, perhaps a few hours away at most, a large island beckons to you, a wide strip of beach surrounded by cliffs making it very clear where the most fortuitous of directions shall be.

Lastly, of course, you’re not alone. Hopefully your new companion(s) are just as keen to get ashore before nightfall as you, or voyaging together will not be the most positive experience. At your side you will find a knapsack, one to every member of your raft party, and upon inspecting its contents, you will discover any rewards you may have accrued - as well as a few other items to give you a fighting chance.

A note to those who participated in the Test Drive Meme: those threads, if all parties involved would like, can be game canon in the form of dream-like memories involving a place very much like this one, though the layout is considerably different.

Part II: Choose Your Own Adventure

By fortune (or misfortune, as it were), you eventually find your feet meeting sand, blessed shore to stagger upon as you shake off your newly found sea-legs. There are those that may find this place familiar, as though it appeared in a dream, though the expanse of shore certainly seems larger. The beach stretches off into the distance on both sides, curving around sharp ridges and cliffs, mist obscuring the view the farther along it goes.

So here you are. You’ve found land. Company. Supplies. The sun is now beginning to trek rather low upon the horizon…spending the night outside in such an unfamiliar land is unappealing at best and outright dangerous at the worst.

There is one silver lining in the midst of this mess. Directly ahead, the beach curves up a gentle slope until it meets forest, some manner of building visible through the trees. Further exploration of this area will reveal a dilapidated building of sorts; the architecture is indiscernible to even the most skilled eye. Despite looking as if it has seen better days, there are areas that offer some form of shelter...and who knows what else. Just because it appears uninhabited doesn’t mean you won’t wind up pleasantly, or unpleasantly, surprised.



So what shall you do from here, traveller? There is land to be explored, strangers to meet, friends to reunite with. Supplies to inspect and plenty of questions in need of being said aloud. Choose your path, make haste, and above all else: survive. And whatever you will, take heart.

Your story is about to begin anew.

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Feeling a tad adrift? Make sure to check the Locations Page, which has details regarding the starting areas and a handy map for those who feel better with a bird's eye view!

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LOGS ● OOC ● STORIES ● MAIN NAVIGATION

( CODED BY BOOTYCALL )

Comments

[chummer]

What the absolute fuck, [ comes a befuddled mutter.

The Shark-Man is peering at Sans with a certain sort of bemused intensity. I reiterate: The Shark-Man is looking at the animated skeleton like he's the weird one here. In Finley's world view, however, he is. There are bone fish in the sea, but not... bone-people? Bone-landers?

Gods, this guy is strange. ]

What the hell are you supposed to be?

[ This Shark-Man also lacks a little thing called 'tact.' Have fun with that, Sans. At least it isn't malicious. Yet. ]

[justribbing]

[ Honestly, he's used to it.

After spending over a year stuck in a dusty old castle full of puzzles and a variety of humanoids threatened, offended, surprised, or just baffled by the existence of walking, talking skeletons who drink condiments and enjoy bad puns and fart jokes, the novelty of the experience wears thin.

Sans doesn't resist the urge to roll his eye lights when he fails to spend any effort on coming up with a new, or even mildly funny answer. ]

A skeleton.

[ This doesn't really start them off on the right foot, for a few reasons. After a moment, the monster plucks the snail off his sleeve and pockets it. ]

You want something?

[chummer]

Huh, [ is all he can offer to that answer.

If nothing else, he seems to take it in stride. He knew land was strange, but not this strange. ]

Not really, [ he admits. ] Was just trying to figure the fuck you were, but now that I know I guess all I'm wondering is why you aren't doing anything.

[ If it sounds like a jab, that's because it almost is. A little too blunt to be just friendly curiosity. Everyone seems to be doing their part - and Finley's already gotten shit for not doing his -so what makes this lazy bones the exception? ]

[justribbing]

[ Sans continues to keep his gaze on Finley for a few more seconds longer, just long enough to sharpen the edge on that pointed silence. ]

I'd heard the rumors, but never believed this day would come.

The skeleton police are here, my days of shirking my skeletal duties of lying down and pretending to be a proper corpse are over.

...Damn.

[ Somehow, he manages to snap his phalanges, shortly before turning his attention back out to sea. ]

[chummer]

[ ... Well, then. ]

Don't gotta' be a dick about it, [ he huffs. Like he's really one to talk. The Shark-Man flops into the sand unceremoniously. If Sans isn't going to do shit, then he isn't either. ]

Everyone here's a bunch of assholes.

[ CRY US A RIVER, FINLEY, ABOUT HOW MEAN EVERYONE ELSE IS. ]

[justribbing]

[ Is this guy for real? Sans sighs conspicuously, considering he lacks all the parts necessary for respiration, kneading at his bony brow with his knuckles.

This--uh, whoever he is-- shows up, insults him, demands answers, and now chooses his scrap of beach to throw himself a big pity party in?

He might have chewed him out, but... eh, all that feels like way too much effort.

Sans adjusts himself until he's sitting on his heels, shuffling around awkwardly as he keeps stuffing snails into his hoodie's pockets, saying nothing. If Finley speaks up again, there might be a response, but for the moment, he's just preparing to find somewhere else to be. ]

[chummer]

[ For a moment, it seems like the Shark-Man has nothing else to say. But that's a mistake. It'll always be a mistake, honestly,
to assume that Finley's done being a prat. ]

Why aren't you more upset about all this?

[ He wishes he were as okay with everything. Not that he'll admit that's why he's so angry, even to himself. ]

[justribbing]

[ This finally prompts a reply out of the skeleton, who considers a snail caught in the white cage of his phalanges before it disappears into his pocket with the others. This -- and this guy -- isn't his problem. He could just leave, find somewhere else to sit and... wait this out, or whatever happens next.

But all at once the only thing Sans feels is low simmering annoyance filling up the empty grey spaces. ]

Because some of us don't get the luxury of having everything go as planned. For some of us, we don't call the shots.

[ He straightens up, pushing his hands into his now crowded pockets. ]

This is just another day ending in y. You wanna whine? Find somebody who cares.

[chummer]

Sure, if you don't try to.

[ No one in this place seems to, is the thing. Try. Care. It's turning his entire worldview on its head. He's a royal. Everyone should care about his well-being. Everyone always has.

Maybe San's ambivalence is infectious. Or maybe the seemingly limitless fuel for his anger has finally burned out. ]

But, whatever. Fuck you too. [ Sans won't have to worry about going anywhere because with a huff, Finley pushes himself back up off the sand and starts to take his leave. He still wins, in his mind, if he's the one to walk away first. ]

[justribbing]

Eh, good riddance.

[ Sans's eyelights roll towards the endless blue overhead.

If you don't try? Like they all could, by just trying hard enough, avoid the bizarre twist of fate that landed them on this island?

There are arguments that are thrown out there just to be contrary, and in Sans's opinion, this is just one of many potential examples. And he might point that out too, except Sans, in a rare fit of pique, sums up his opinion in one (albeit rude) gesture.

It's meaning is somewhat universal. ]