lifeaftr | October Intro: Louder than Sirens, Louder than Bells

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October Intro: Louder than Sirens, Louder than Bells

INTRO LOG: OCTOBER

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

The Beach: For All the Rest
The shores of Ensō are far from the tranquil, almost idyllic tropical backdrop that they should be. And so it is that while you fish, or perhaps as you go about your daily business on the islets, the first thing you will note is the persistent sound hammering at the back of your skull.

A drumming.

And it's growing louder.

The source of the drumming will, like it or not, soon become apparent. At the fringes of the trees, wielding slings and hollow, wooden pistols, is a group of large and very displeased simians who have every intent of claiming this spot of beach - yes, traveler, this spot of beach you're standing on right now! - for their own, and by any means necessary.

And they certainly don't look interested in diplomacy.

If you came armed, you might be in luck, because this conflict will require your steady hand in its resolution. If you did not...well, you may be better suited to run, or risk capture at the hands of warriors skilled, cunning, and incredibly vicious. Laugh at their monkey business all you like; they are ingenious fighters and, what's more, they're just as good at killing as they are at capture.

For the uninitiated, this particular brand of chaos doesn't usually sweep across the entire island the way it has. But those who have been here for some time will recognize the monkeys in question, and might even recognize this for what it is: revenge.

Group I: The Squeakquel
Looks like your monkeying around last month has landed you and everyone else in a spot of trouble. The monkeys in question certainly weren't happy to be confronted with others on their lands, nor are they willing to share their territory. While you may have triumphed last time you confronted them, the apes have been planning their revenge in the meantime.

Some of you were unlucky enough to become targets. Overnight, a great deal of them silently invaded the islets. Their blow-dart guns are equipped with a fairly powerful sedative that is more than capable of knocking most living creatures out - and those that were immune were simply snatched up, gagged, and bundled away.

However, it seems that some of their prisoners didn't suit their purposes, for one way or another, and thus weren't retrieved with the intention of long-term capture. Which is why a number of you will awaken in regions of the island that you've already explored.

...the really, really dangerous ones.

Whether it's a Center of Gravity, a parade of centipuppies, a contingent of Lungblossoms, a Fustercluck, or something else entirely, one thing is certain: the monkeys wanted you out of their way.

So get ready to fight for your life.

Group II: Ape Escape
If you're not one of the slightly luckier newcomers that materializes on the shore, then you're one of the unlucky ones that's managed to materialize square in the middle of the jungle. Or rather, in the middle of one of the denser, more populated parts of the jungle. The abodes woven into the canopy are crude, built of mud and sticks, but they're nonetheless sturdy.

And, as an important note - they are also swarming with monkeys. Snarling, baying, armed monkeys. Perhaps they'd be more hostile toward an interloper...if you weren't already in a cage, along with several others.

Fortunately for the newbies, they've all got something the monkeys didn't anticipate, aside from the element of surprise. Most prisoners don't arrive with knapsacks full of newly-acquired gear, and it's a good thing, too - you may very well need it, and the help of the new arrivals, to escape this place. You could always wait for the cavalry to come, but are you really willing to take that risk?

Group III: Pot Luck
As for you, you terribly fortunate third group?

You'll find yourselves suspended in wooden cages as well, though this time, to the hot curtain of whitish steam clouding your vision. It smells an awful lot like smoke down there. An awful lot like something...burning? Unlike your fellows over in the second group, these cages aren't simply a means of containing you, no. These cages are currently hanging over what might be the largest cast iron cauldron you've ever seen. All of this is, of course, for one simple reason:

Some species of monkeys are carnivores.

The acrid scent of smoke is already hot and rancid in your nostrils; the pyre beneath you has been lit, and the hungry flames are beginning to boil the water below quite eagerly. We'd suggest you hurry up in freeing yourself and your fellows - being boiled alive is not a particularly pleasant way to go. At least the monkeys weren't expecting quite so many main courses so soon, which allows you the element of surprise.

As a final note to those who participated in the Test Drive Meme, bear in mind that 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.

All new arrivals will awake with knapsacks with their names stitched to the front. The contents of said knapsacks can be found below!

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!

LOGS ● OOC ● STORIES ● MAIN NAVIGATION

( CODED BY BOOTYCALL )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Kidnapped.

Stolen right from the safety of their homes. It's - it's something that's only supposed to happen in storybooks and cartoons. People like Clementine... these monkeys know where they live. There's nothing stopping them from doing this all over again, but this time, without letting some of them keep knapsacks full of supplies. They could do a more organized, deadlier attack anytime they pleased.]

Then... don't we have to do something about that? Or things will just end up like this all over again, won't they? Everyone... they need guards, or - or different locks, or... or they'll have to move!

[Ordinarily, they would lead him to the islets, to take shelter there. But those in the islets were not safe. Barring that, perhaps somewhere near the location of the elves. But the elves, likewise, were far from immune - Lup's capture had seen to that.]

[So where does that leave them?]

keep moving
do not let them find us

["Us" being the pivotal word. Like it or not, they've taken it upon themself to see Asriel to safety, no matter how fleeting. And should that safety be compromised...]

[They will see him to it again. And again. And however many times they must.]

[Us.]

[Ha ha...

He missed that word so much.

Asriel had come to terms with a lot of hard things. Or... he likes to hope he has, at least. He'd made his peace with "us" being a word he would never get use again. Chara's been gone for a long time. Let Frisk live their life. Take care of Mom and Dad for me, okay?

He doesn't even deserve "us."

He's... never been a very good friend. He just hurts his friends. Sets them back. This person was kind enough to scoop him out of peril, and they risked themselves to do it. He can't even properly return the favour; he doesn't know anything about how to live on the surface, how to navigate a jungle, how to find food or shelter in a kind of landscape he's never once experienced. His magic isn't even powerful enough to be much use as a guardian.

He doesn't understand.]

Mx. Drifter...

[Mx. is okay, he hopes.]

Won't "us" be more dangerous than just "you?" Why are you being... so nice to me?

[Certainly more formal than they are used to, make no mistake, but the child is...polite, if unnecessarily formal. But it seems that a great deal of children here are, with Ren as the notable, welcome exception.]

[Their dark eyes blink once, sliding back over to the child as he questions the purpose of such kindness. Questions why they would bother being so nice to him. It should not count as nice, what they've done; it is protecting a child who does not deserve to live in a world of perpetual fear and doubt and pain, the way the children of the world that came before did. Living always in terror for what was to come, for the creeping of the Immortal Cell that would claim their lives.]

[And yet...]

[And yet.]

[It is not unlike their own festering doubts. It is not unlike their queries as to why someone would bother. Why a fellow drifter would pick them up off the ground and carry them to a bed and offer them a place in a town that would surely not have given them a second look, were it not for this respected figure's open support. Unceasingly kind, and never once asking for a favor in turn.]

[If they had done nothing right for them in life, they can do this now. They can honor them, by emulating their sense of duty.]

[By being brave in being kind in turn, to others.]

[It may be difficult to tell, but the lines creasing the Drifter's cobalt brow soften, and that faint frown disperses.]

i do what was once done for me
children should not live in fear

[It's strange, isn't it? How a single act can change a person's entire world.

A kid who climbs a mountain for an unhappy reason realizes there's still kindness hiding somewhere in the world. The too, too short time they have is enough to make them willing to give up anything to set monsters free. Anything to repay this unreserved love and acceptance. Anything to set things right, let them escape a world of smothering darkness. They just want to do what was once done for them.

One cruelty is all it takes to dash Asriel's whole world to bits. He loses himself completely. That one act eats away everything he used to be and anchors itself in the hollow space it once occupied. He spreads so much misery, and for what? Just to fill one more day of existing. Just because everyone who doesn't see things as bleakly as he does is naive, foolish, wrong, needs to have that rosy veil ripped to shreds until they think the same. He does what was once done for him.

A skeleton thinks maybe a troubled youth only needs a friend. Some guidance to keep them on the straight and narrow. He risks himself to Spare someone, and they throw down a plastic knife into the snow and begin to cry. A little monster kid tags along with a fellow child. They talk of school, and heroes, and splash their way through puddles. Just one person treats the human like what they are: just a kid. One person in the entire Underground stands between the child and an adult who wants to hurt them, and tells them "you'll have to go through me, first." A kid gains the resolve to try and help monsters, because there's more to this world than just getting hurt. They do what was once done for them.

A kid looks up at someone who's twisted himself into a grotesque angel of death and decides to SAVE him. He's done nothing but torment them, bully them, kill them, rip their happy ending away over and over again. They forgive him. They comfort him. They try to be there in his last moments. It's all he can do to break the Barrier. It's all he can do to finish what Chara had died trying to do. It's all he can do to try and just let Frisk have a future with people who love them.

This is no time to be a crybaby, hee hee. Asriel blinks hard a few times, and... and he smiles. What lies ahead is still scary and unknown. He still doesn't know if he can be useful. But somehow, despite that...]

Then I hope I can be as nice to you. The world feels a whole lot less cold and empty with even just one friend in it, doesn't it?

[As nice as you. They've never...been a creature of that sort. One cannot afford to be, in a world where life after life is snatched away, where your kind is beaten and robbed and left for dead for the blue tint of your skin. Drifters do not linger. They wander because it is safer than growing attached, and risking everything for the sake of those attachments.]

[But somewhere along the line, a small girl gives them a flower clip, so they can feel a little less alone. So they can feel powerful. A lady with too many eyes and deep violet skin asks about their favorite sort of food, over and over again, and grows frustrated when she cannot make something they call their favorite - because they have never had one. A man gives them a surgical mask to shelter from the worst of the elements that will inevitably consume them. A man splits a coconut and calls them homie and grins when they spread a tigershark pelt across the sand. A skeleton reacts with undeniable concern and regret, when their illness flares through no fault of his own.]

[Allies, mostly. Others...]

[Friends?]

[Those they must protect. Those they owe.]

friend

[The word has always felt an imposition. A curse. Because friend means loss and loss is easy to bear, when one knows well enough to not get attached. They have had practice, in that regard. But there is no severing the bond once it is formed. There is only holding that thick pink cloak in your gloved hands and pulling the thick cream fur edging its collar tight around yourself.]

[It was much too big for them.]

never had one

[A long time ago... Asriel met someone who'd never had a friend.

Try as he might, he's not sure he could name another person who he'd cared about so deeply. How had the rest of the world missed this? How had they failed to notice how selfless, how funny, how smart, how courageous, how unpredictable and life-changing and wonderful this person could be?

He never understood how anyone could know them and not love that person with all their heart.

Maybe he's being naive again. Maybe it's his inexperience showing. But it sort of seems to him... it sort of seems like the people who could use a friend are the ones with the most devoted, powerful souls.

Or maybe... maybe it's a little like Papyrus. Sometimes people don't even notice how much light they give off. He wishes for friends, not realizing how many people he's already warmed with his radiance. Maybe it's like how Frisk pet so many dogs, flexed so many times, flirted and unhugged and prayed and laughed, and it didn't even occur to them how many people were supporting them until the castle overflowed with monsters rushing to their aid.]

Would you like one?

[Asriel extends his paw to the Drifter.]

I would. I think I'd really like to be your friend, Mx. Drifter.

[It's a gesture they've learned to recognize through osmosis. An open palm, a hand extended in greeting. Or...in promise? It is difficult to say. Perhaps, like a nod, it can mean many things based on the surrounding context. And the context now is]

[Friend.]

[Would you like a friend?]

[The boy does not know them. Does not know about the sickness gumming their lungs. Does not know that agreeing to be a friend to a dying creature will mean that it will only hurt, that wave of helpless frustration when confronted with irrevocable loss for something you would have fought so hard to keep, if allowed the chance. Or, even if he does know what it is to bear those weights...is he truly willing to carry them?]

[It is a terrible thing to ask for a child.]

[Make decisions carefully. Once they have made them, they cannot allow themself regret. They only dwell upon one regret, upon one loss, upon one memory.]

[If they refuse, they will surely pay that price as well.]

[It is better to pay a price in happiness than it is solely in death.]

[The Drifter takes his small paw with their thick-gloved hands. The fingertips look slightly pointed, almost talonlike, but their grip is gentle. And their dark eyes slit into dark little half-moons.]

ok

Then we've both got a friend, just like that.

[Their hands are a lot bigger than his. He can't help but wonder if the thick gloves are too hot in a place as warm as this, but... they wouldn't be that bundled-up, he thinks, if it was uncomfortable. He, after all, sees nothing unusual in pointed fingers or blue flesh. The word "monster" carried a lot of vastly differing definitions to it back home.

It's supposed to be a handshake, maybe, but Asriel - he kind of just wants to hold hands. It's been a long time since he even had hands to hold, and it's... it's really been kind of a tough morning, huh? He doesn't cling hard enough that Drifter couldn't easily tug their hands away, though. Just... stays as gentle as they are. Lets them decide how much is enough.]

You know, it might be fun to stay on the move. They say that the surface is big, right? A billion times bigger than the underground. We can explore. We can find all the secret caves and ancient ruins and hidden rooms with Art Club meetings and quiches! We might even find a secret village, who knows?

[They've grown used to the idea of handholds as well - another instinct for which they have Ren to thank. She liked to hold their hand as she drew on the houses on the islets, and if they can be grateful for anything, they can be grateful for that. For her safety, in all this. And for Asriel's eventual safety as well.]

[Children should not be in that sort of danger. Ever.]

[So it is for that reason that they do not relinquish their grip. If he does not want to let go, neither will they.]

island
somewhat smaller

[But then, they've been here for months and not yet covered every scrap of surface area. An end will come, as there is to all things. A termination of those shores. But that does not mean they cannot still seek what may be worth finding in those regions uncharted.]

[Island, the projection says, and Asriel has a concept in his mind for that word. It's... the tiny little pebbles of land scattered in Waterfall, connected by bridges. There's no way this place is that tiny, right? He would be able to see the walls - or mountains - or the other shore or whatever, if that were the case.]

But still big, I'm betting. It's always better to focus on the bright side. Then it feels like an adventure, not a test, right?

[Like you're the heroes from the make-believe games you play in the gold-tinted hallways. Like you're a living comic book. You have the power of friendship, so you're going to be strong. You're going to free everyone! And you're gonna do it together.]

Can you imagine being the first person to see something? It's been waiting all alone for thousands of years, and you're the one who gets to show it to everyone else. You only get the experience of doing something for the first time once. We should be excited about that, right? It's really special and rare, getting to experiencing how new the world can be!

[Look how far he went in search of something new, after all. Practically tore the script up looking for a bit of novelty to give this small, colorless world of his a little bit more meaning.]

[He is not wrong, precisely. There is yet more to see on this land, and given the dangers that lie concealed in certain regions, there may still be benefits to that exploration. There may still be detriments too, but one can never know until they cross that line. And the Drifter crosses those lines. They do nothing else.]

[The child's enthusiasm is so very, very far removed from the tired survivalism of the citizens of Central. From the scared mutterings of those who were at the very edge of their lives and well knew it. Almost a little like Ren's, but his eyes shine with a different energy. They are not well-versed at discerning what those emotions may be, but they seem...good things.]

[They are learning their moment and their place, and the words whose recitations mean so very much. Their role in all this. A drifter no longer - perhaps more of a guardian.]

[It is fitting.]

i will guard against whatever there may be

[Guard. It might seem like kind of a heavy word. Anchoring yourself down with duty. Resigning yourself to the task that must be done.

But Asriel... he knows the sorts of people who become guards - or try to, at least. Dogs with big, loving hearts and a zest for pets. Dragons and rabbits who would do anything for each other, whose partnership goes deeper than anyone could imagine. A fish who wants to protect everyone's hopes and dreams. A skeleton who wants to make people happy.

The Drifter... they're really a kind person, aren't they?]

I know you'll do a good job. Could... I guard you, then? Like buddy cops. You know, like they do in comic books! The protectors should be protected too, right?

comic book

[The term is unfamiliar. Separate, they understand the meaning of each word. But when pieced together, they confess it holds no particular meaning they can glean for themself. A failure of their own awareness and insight into the lives and minds of others - not something that can be averted. They do not spend their time on guilt, or on shame for that.]

unfamiliar
buddy cops
?

Oh! Comic books are like picture books, but there are lots and lots of pictures on every page. Some of them are about fighting crime, but some of them are about cartoons. Um... the cartoons are a lot easier to find.

[VHS tapes survive being soggy much better than comics. It's not every issue that gets the luxury of those little plastic sleeves.]

Buddy cops fight crime, too. They're, like... you know how when two people are partners? They're a team. They've got each others' back, no matter what, and they can do stuff they could never do alone, because they're together. You can't ask one person to take care of the whole entire world by themself, after all, can you?

[Truth be told, this is roughly the point in time where the Drifter starts to lose his thread of discussion. His enthusiasm is enough to hold their interest for the time being, but many of the specifics elude them. Buddy cops, whoever they are, are a team. They are partners. They look after one another.]

[Their sprite is equipment. It is non-sentient, and does not count as a partner so much as it does a tool. Their fellow drifter...they had operated too far apart to count as anything beyond what they were, and what they were was uncertain. Ren is a child, and should not bear such responsibilities. Guzma has responsibilities they dare not intrude upon, guardianship of the Luna child.]

[So what does that leave them?]

[You know when two people are partners?]

[In theory, yes.]

you can

[That is, after all, what they set out to do. But...that is not exactly true, is it? So they must amend:]

would not succeed alone

[Asriel's expression softens, smile fading at the edges.]

...Yeah, I guess you can.

[The angel who has seen the surface. The future of humans and monsters. You will decide this world's future. You are our future. He's seen what happens to people when they're expected to be single-handedly responsible for everyone. He's lived what happens to people when that mantle is thrust upon them.

He doesn't know... anything, really, about the Drifter. What kind of monster they are, where they're from, why they carry so many weapons. Asriel, however, has experienced just enough to see something in the things people say. In the things they don't say. In the silences that come when you start to question why somebody would decide to climb a mountain.

He squeezes the hand he's holding.]

But you don't have to.

Nobody should ever have to try something like that all on their own.

[Nobody should have to.]

[Nobody should have to.]

[Perhaps that's the difference. One can embark on such a treacherous journey, such an endeavor doomed to failure, unaccompanied and expecting no aid. One can, but one will fail...until such a time that someone helps them to their feet. A drifter with a kindness shielded by their great helmed head, a jackal god with the pale white flicker of a rhombus humming with that strange and unknowable energy.]

[They had never really been alone.]

don't need to care for the whole world

["Anymore."]

just stay alive

[In his last moments as himself... he'd talked with Frisk. Tried to make it a farewell they could feel good about. Tried to fit making up for a million timelines of dying and judgment and sparing into a single conversation.

There are a lot of Floweys out there, Frisk. It's not as nice as it is down here, Frisk. You can't always expect there to be a nice solution. You can't expect to solve everything with a smile and a flirt. You can't be an angel.

The best you can hope for...]

Don't kill, and don't be killed.

[He'd tried so hard to sound much wiser than the scared, lonely kid he was. He'd tried to give them the objective moral, the universal truth, the big final lesson. But... deep down... he's not as certain as he tried to sound.

It's nice to hear the world echo that budding belief back at him.]

It's enough to care in little ways. It's enough to just live your life.

The world gets a little better when you take time to just... like being in it, too.

[A tree grows because you kept emptying out cups of water. A music box plays because you gave a statue a little shelter from the rain. There's an ant-sized frog in a crack in the wall. Through determination, you've mastered Ball Game.]

I mean... this is a little bit fun, isn't it? We've got a cool hideout. This tree is the biggest one I've ever seen in my entire life. It smells really green, and you can hear bugs chirping and distant birds.

[And the crackle of fire, the pop of coconut guns, distant shouts. It - it falls apart a bit, yeah. There's no completely forgetting how dangerous this world is. But it's... there's still room for happiness here, right? Is this enough? He's looking his hardest for "enough."]

We're not fighting anymore, but this... this is a little bit important too, right? You're not breathing hard anymore. I'm not scared anymore.

[They're not breathing as hard anymore. It's true. Their heart has started to beat a fair bit slower, now that they've the time to breathe. It does not change the fact that they're dying, that they will die inevitably, and leave him behind. It would be safer to simply leave things as they are. Get up, and leave. If he grows close to the creature sitting before him, however impossible it may seem...he will have to learn to lose them.]

[Perhaps he has learned to lose already. Most living things do.]

[As they did. Even as they struggled, fought ever so hard - to not get attached.]

should find someplace safer

[It's perhaps a bit too matter-of-fact, a bit too dismissive. But what else are they meant to say?]

[That's their problem; they like the world too much. Even shattered as it had been, blistered and broken through by the Immortal Cell that so corrupted the world, they had never fathomed for an instant what it might be to not live in it. That was their crime and their curse. They'd wanted to live so very badly.]

[What creature does not want to live?]

[It's what all creatures must want.]

[It's an abrupt answer. Maybe there's just a character limit on their robot friend's projections.

Maybe Asriel's being a bit too childish.

This isn't really the time to be all sunshine and daisies, is it?]

Oh, um, yes! You're right.

[He looks around hesitantly, scanning his surroundings. Utterly unfamiliar, all of it. He couldn't tell you the names of the trees growing around here. He's never seen an ocean. The little peeks of sky coming out from gaps in the canopy are still a stunning novelty.]

Er... maybe you should lead.

[Now is a time for action. Even if the sounds of combat have faded, they cannot rely that they will always. Too many times the Drifter had relaxed, the immediate area cleared of hostile intentions, only for a low-pitched ululation to herald the scuttering emergence of the Crystal Wolves that moved so very quickly, that bit and tore into their blue flesh and sprayed pieces of them across the ruined stones. They moved faster than even the Drifter had been prepared to acknowledge, and they would never let their guard down like that again.]

[Particularly now, with yet another young charge in their care. The Drifter straightens, briefly consulting their map - projected from their companion in the same general way their text projects. The square they narrow in on is marked danger, at least according to the Drifter's personal abstruse key. After a moment's consideration, they nod.]

[It will offer protection. That much they can grant.]

[At a somewhat slower pace than is typical for them - Ren has taught them to move slower in the presence of children, as opposed to their usual brisk trot - they begin to lead confidently.]

this way

[Asriel actually has yet to let go of the Drifter's hand, so both keeping up and staying close prove pretty easy to do. His eyes linger curiously on the little drone that follows the Drifter just as closely as he does - the partial map it projects is the closest he's come yet to anything that could help him get a feel for this place, so he does his best to make that fleeting glimpse count.

Of course, the fact that one square on the grid that seemed to be especially centered upon was marked "danger" kind of strikes him as... worrying. But it's probably fine, right? They might not even be going there. They're probably just going around it.

Even so, the quiet feels sort of... oppressive. Maybe his nerves are getting to him, but every snap of the undergrowth or rustle of the bushes makes his fur prickle. Quietly, he pipes up, hoping maybe something to talk about will make the walk seem a bit less scary.]

Um... I like your robot friend. I used to know somebody who built robots.

...I don't like her work as much as your thing, though.

[Friend?]

[...it takes them less time now to discern that he means their companion sprite, as so many have now pointed it out as unusual enough to warrant commenting upon. They glance at the sprite with only desultory nod in its direction.]

requisite drifter's equipment

[Particularly for they, who lack any other means of communication save for sign language - which is not always a surefire shot, given how overjoyed and surprised Tibia had seemed to be able to communicate in that avenue.]

intuits what i need

[They use a few words that he struggles with a bit - requisite? Intuits? He has to guess a little bit. Being Flowey gave him plenty of time to read every book in the Underground, but he never was as good at fancy vocabulary as Chara or Mom had been.

He doesn't want to ask them to use simpler words, though. He already looks dumb as it is. If he makes himself into even more of a slow, useless deadweight, then he won't be fun to play with anymore. He just has to guess from context, that's all. He can do that.

...He sort of can't. He has no idea at all what the second sentence means. So he just... focuses on the first.]

Oh. So there are more of them out there...? Where did you get yours from? Like, who gives them to drifters?

October Intro: Louder than Sirens, Louder than Bells

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