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

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

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.

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 )

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Lup, ever tactful and delicate with other people's feelings, sits straight up and stares right at his very brief but painfully obvious display of vulnerability. She feels like her stomach just dropped a mile and she doesn't even know why, what, what did she say? He's the one who's been making them food since way before their IPRE days, they both had, but he's the one to turn to when there's nothing to work with, this isn't even a thing. It shouldn't be.

Except it is now, for him, they aren't huddled by a campfire with fuck-all to eat like the past ten years haven't happened, and that realization feels way scarier than anything she's encountered in a long time. There's so much she doesn't know, and a lot she'd only heard about through a stifling layer of dark fabric, and absolutely nothing she'd been allowed to react to with the righteous fury and unfailing understanding that he would have needed. Some twin she's been.

She bites her lip and listens to the rest of his explanation with flattened ears and fingers dug into the fabric of her robe. "Look, I've been feeling it too," she starts quietly, trying to choose her words carefully and not fuck this up. "I shouldn't be so wiped from a couple of Fire Bolts, that's bullshit. I mean, when you've been a magnificent phantasm of pure magical force, any magic you've got to even slightly reach for feels like, like someone cut off both your arms and is flipping you the bird with them. But I'm not fooled, it's gotta be their Plane of Magic, maybe it's not properly attached, I don't know. We didn't exactly get a good look at it coming in, this time." A lot of things aren't the way they're used to, around here. But that's just the usual mental and physical cost ramped up to eleven, spells should still work, even with a shitty wand. She sighs and tries to catch his gaze, if he'll let her.

"But if that's an excuse not to cook because... because you're scared, then I'm not buyin it. You're still the dopest transmutation wizard a hundred planes have ever had, alright?" There's more she wants to say, everything she couldn't say when she was trapped in the umbrella and first heard about what happened to his cooking show, but she falters, doesn't know how to put that out there where both of them can see it.

"For sure, for sure," he says quietly, without any degree of commitment, still stubbornly downcast and not at all feeling like the dopest anything at anything. Though at least he has the decency to seem embarrassed about it. He knows it shouldn't be a thing. He's aware. And, it does help a bit to hear that she's also had some magic problems since her arrival, though it doesn't sound like anything on his scale. But it's just too much of an unknown. It may have been partially an excuse, but not entirely. He'd been working up to cooking again on his own time, minor magical cooking, armed with his new knowledge of what really happened, it's not like this is the first time he's re-engaged with the idea. But with these stakes it's like being dropped into a boss fight while you're still farting around with cantrips.

He doesn't even know how much she knows about what happened. Does she know it wasn't actually his fault? Or is she trying to prop him up even without that? He isn't even sure how he feels about that. The last time he had that support he didn't even need it, or at least it feels that way from here in the present. She was the one whose actions weighed the most on her conscience. She probably thought she was doing him a favour, talking around it instead of through it, but he almost wishes she hadn't. That doesn't really mean he's in a hurry to clarify. Why does his past have to be a package deal? Couldn't he have gotten her back without getting right in the middle of this bullshit again too?

Still, it's night, they have very limited supplies, they're exhausted and hungry; what she's asking isn't unreasonable. It's actually pretty damn logical and he knows it. "I mean, I can try." And he will, because he is just really not into letting her down this early in the game. "But it might turn out to be a pretty good excuse," which is his way of admitting that it might have been one, a little bit. "If I can't do it, we're gonna have to get creative. We might be doin this even more oldschool than you thought." It's not the most hopeful statement in the world to make, but he can at least meet her eyes again, with a ghost of his usual confidence. They might have to fish and dig with tools, like animals, but even short one wand and without the full use of their magic, they still have everything they need to survive, like always, and he's sure she knows it too. "So first we need a lot of rocks."

Stupid stubborn little brother, of course the sheer force of her faith in him isn't gonna be enough to make up for ten years on his own. It sucks, she hates this, she's tense with the desire to punch everyone who did this to him including herself, but somehow violence is never the answer to something when you need it. This is gonna be an ongoing project, she hopes he knows. But he's right, they've kinda got other things to worry about right now than hashing out a decade of really fucking rough happenings. Maybe that's for the best, anyway, because he kinda looks... off, a little bit. It's probably just the unsteady lighting and the exhaustion, they probably both look like death fresh outta hell, and not the hot dateable kind. So she doesn't need to put him through any more emotional wringers for the night. He's going to try and that's good enough for her.

"Hey, nothing wrong with oldschool, hot meals and showers are overrated anyway," she quips with half a grin, because they'll be fine no matter how his magic turns out. "Good thing there's a Rocks'R'Us right over there," she adds with a nod towards some rocky outcroppings reaching into the sea not too far down the shore. "What are you thinking, bub?"

"I'm thinking we should probably start with a container of some kind, ya doof. Unless you want to eat off the sand, gross." He's not stalling, this is legit the order of operations here. Alright, maybe he's easing into things just a little. He's not the caution twin for nothing. "And cuz we need water. Like for drinking." He dumps out his knapsack and slings it on, in case they find other things to carry back to the fire besides the absolutely bitchin bowl he is about to make and then fill with water, since he can't very well transmute the entire fucking ocean. "You sure you remember how being alive works?" He offers her a hand up, before heading for the rocks.

This is better, this is easier, this is a good start. He tries to focus on the feeling of familiarity, the joy inherent in a good old fashioned spiteful thrive sesh with his favourite sister. It's a nascent feeling still, with the potential to be overwhelmed by everything that could go wrong, everything he's about to be relied on for. And it's still just a microcosm of their lives, in which shit could go way wronger overall. But whatever, one foot in front of the other, journey of a thousand miles, etc.

Look at that, her cunning plan to boost his confidence by pretending to have a brainfart is already paying off. It's a sacrifice, but one she's willing to make for her dear brother. She answers with an ostentatious eyeroll and a "Bite me, ya butt," but lets him pull her up, squeezing his hand tightly for a second before going to empty out her own bag and wandering over to the rocks. They drift apart some to cover more ground in case there's anything useful besides a big damn pile of rocks, and it's a practiced formation not even really worth thinking about. The old-times vibe is so strong again, kind of crazy wonderful in spite of the objectively pretty shitty circumstances and she lets it warm her, really glad she's getting another chance at all this.

But as just established, they're not quite the same people they were a century or two ago, and there's something else nagging at her. She kicks a rock around for a few paces before adding it to the collection, picks up and tosses a bit of driftwood, pockets a sharp piece of shell. Finally she calls out, and her voice carries but there's a soft quality to it anyway. "Hey Taako... I guess you haven't seen Barry around, have you?"

Yeah, it is pretty great, right? Like, if he had to explain to someone, 'yeah sure the most recent great time in my life was scavenging garbage on a beach like a seagull' that would probably paint a seriously unimpressive picture of his quality of life. And honestly, fair. He doesn't expect anyone who isn't Lup to get it, and he wouldn't be in a hurry to paint such a stupid word picture anyway.

He frowns at her question, giving up on the weird bulby kelp he'd been toeing at with mingled disgust and speculation. He really and truly wishes he had a better and more hopeful answer for her. It's a fine reunion, but in his heart of hearts he definitely agrees it would be even better with more of their group. Wouldn't be cool to say it to their faces, don't want any of those assholes getting the idea that they're useful, but it's still true. "I wish I had. But I'm sure he's fine. I'm sure they're all fine." It doesn't sound very comforting, and he hates that. "He's a big lich, he can take care of himself. Did a pretty badass job of it for like ten years." Which was, to be frank, maybe a little unexpected, but he has the tact not to say that and also doesn't feel like getting punched.

Yeah she didn't think so, but that doesn't make hearing it any less bad, and the worry in her heart digs in deeper by another inch. Though she's surprised to hear Taako mention the rest of the squad; somehow she hadn't even considered the fact that they could have gotten dragged here from all the way up on the moon too. She kinda assumes it was a more localized effect, which-- shit, are they having to face the Hunger without most of their wizards? She doesn't even know how time passes in different planes in relation to each other, they'd never been able to switch at will so it's not like they have any data to go on. Fuck, she's too tired for this and she needs Barry to bounce theories off of. Lup takes a breath and runs a hand through her hair roughly, gets caught in the bit of rope, tears it out and throws it at the rocks in frustration.

"Yeah, and longer than that for those of us who were paying attention." As soon as she's said it, she knows it's not fair, they were pretty close too. She just can't imagine what those ten years were like for Barry. She can't even tell who got fucked over more, him or Taako, was it worse to forget, or to be the only one remembering? At least Taako's here, she can... she can start fixing what's been broken, can put that all behind them. She needs that chance with Barry too.

None of which is gonna be great for morale if she doesn't reign it in. "He probably already... he's already found some kids to make laugh and located the only book on the entire island. He's fine." Too bad she's also too tired to make that sound convincing.

He doesn't begrudge her a little friendly fire, even if it was a bit unfair; he likes to talk shit but he was never down on Barry. It was like a million years, their hidden depths wound up having hidden depths after awhile, you know? It's not like she really has her heart in it anyway, and he barely flicks a tension-dismissing ear her way. She's wrong to compare what he was doing before with the ten year span after; Lucretia (he keeps stubbornly blaming her, as though that was the problem, and not Lup taking off on her own) fucked them over so very, very royally. To the point her words are almost nonsense, trying to bridge a gap in logic and personal development that's just too much. At least speaking personally, taking care of himself was a whole different animal when he thought that's all there was, there's no real analogy to be made here. Extrapolated beyond him, that undoubtedly contributes to her not unrighteous but misdirected ire.

Neither one of them is doing a great job of being convincing, but she's the one who needs it the most and in keeping with today's theme of reduced usefulness, he isn't sure how to contribute. He's getting really sick of that theme, to be perfectly honest, but he refuses to let any of that uncertainty and frustration come out of his mouth, even if that's almost all he's got; it's shit but it's the least he can do for her right now. He should have tried harder not to say anything negative in Wonderland, it would have been good practice for this. "Yeah, that sounds about right." Which is a thing he can say now, affectionately even, which comes as a surprise, because he remembers. Man he remembers so much, but that is probably not what they need right now. Wouldn't it be great if collecting rocks was a mentally taxing activity. Darn, can't think about things, gotta pick stuff up.

"Hey I hope you're grabbing firewood too, you can't just crank out Fire Bolts all night while I'm tryin to sleep. We're gonna have to turn this island upside down tomorrow. Figure out what's going on." If he can't be moral support, he can at least be moral scolding. God knows someone is going to have to be.

It's pretty transparent, what he's doing, getting her to think about a game plan for the next day instead of this stupid useless frustration and worry. It's appreciated anyway. She tries to focus back on the important task of picking up rocks, mulling over his suggestion. "That sounds like a lotta work? We should get somebody to do it for us." By which she means, they're gonna need connections. There's no doubt they can survive on their own and figure out a way back home, but why should they have to, if there's a whole island full of randos in the same pickle. "Somebody I met said he's been yanked to other planes before and there's always a person or people responsible for it. So I'm thinking as soon as someone gets a read on them, I'm gonna go say hi. With your wand and some Fireballs." They're not going to be stuck here for long if she has anything to say about it.

Also, get at her Taako, of course she can crank out Fire Bolts all night, who do you think she is. But she ambles closer to the tree line anyway, just to humor him. About three sticks in her ears perk up sharply and she stops, making out the shape of something feathery up in a branch. Her hand snaps to her side where the Umbra Staff would have been before she realizes her mistake and bites her lip, making a grasping motion in Taako's direction instead. "Psst, wand!" She's not about to risk their one shot at a meal with a cantrip.

Yeah of course she will, whatever's behind this has just painted a real unfortunate target on itself. And knowing her, she will probably be successful in taking it out. Though she needs to save some of whatever is behind this lame adventure for him, he's not gonna miss a chance to get some payback, they can take turns with the wand just like when they were kids. It doesn't occur to him in the slightest that she might seek it out on her own. He makes a rude pssh sound to her entire spiel. Of course up until that boss fight they will enlist or outright Charm anyone and everyone they can. If said island full of randos really is in the same pickle, they should technically be grateful for the expert direction from two professionals with a century+ of experience. "Obviously, all of that."

Keen elven hearing and dark vision and dexterity that's still not too shabby mean he can accurately just hum that wand right her way. She'll catch it, or she won't and he'll laugh a lot at how bad she is at having a real body again, and they'll eat rocks and garbage or whatever. Nbd. He's ready to cook beach wildlife or drag her mercilessly, whatever the situation calls for, and that's just too valuable a part of himself to have regained, not to buoy his spirits at least a little. Still, he really hopes she's successful, because he would love to keep the magic part of this meal to a nice, safe minimum, regardless of her pep talks.

Looks like his merciless dragging will have to wait, because she catches the wand effortlessly and flashes him a smug grin before turning back around to take aim. She's gonna Magic Missile the thing out of the tree and they'll cook it in the bowl and water Taako is about to make and they'll have soup for days. Take that, stupid survival adventure.

The spell flares to life as easy as breathing, and then there's a sudden bottomless hole of exhaustion, and then a big fat nothing, and finally a faint pop and a hiss like the wand itself is mocking her. Lup's smile dies on her face as she stares at her own powerless hand, her magic faded and gone like she's nothing, like she's forgotten how to be herself. When a final useless spark from the wand startles her target into flight, she aims up in a desperate panic and this time there's a drain that makes her stagger but it works and a large Fireball blooms into the sky. It's not as big as her usual tricks and doesn't set any of the living vegetation on fire, but after a moment two awfully crisp, smoking husks fall out of the sky. Lup is breathing heavily and shocked silent, arm dropping back to her side gracelessly.

Taako winces at her just absolutely fuckin eating pavement with that first spell, breath an inward hiss through a sympathetic grimace. Not her fault, obviously, it's this stupid plane and its useless and inconsistent magic, but still. Yikes. And, he hates this, it's absolutely inappropriate, he buries it frantically, but there's a little vindication? Not exactly at her, that would be dumb, but. He did say their magic wasn't fully trustworthy here, didn't he. And that is really, really fucked up. This is a crisis he has already had his daily serving of, thanks, and he definitely wishes she hadn't had to experience it firsthand, vindication or not.

He is at her side in a second, it's honestly very unsettling to see Lup shell-shocked, particularly by her own spells, or lack thereof. He won't be dragging her over this, that's for sure, isn't gonna call attention to her first attempt either way actually. The exhaustion he'd felt from failed spells was bad, but the vulnerability was a million times worse. Magic is just what they do, how they survive, and this is horseshit. "Nice save," he tries, though his ears are still pinned nervously over the whole business. "Gonna just. Let those rest, for a minute. Let the juices redistribute. Before, y'know, carving." His lip quivers and he tries so hard, he really does, but he lets out a peal of hysterical and deeply regrettable laughter anyway, burying his face in his hands. What a fuckin day.

Even his approach takes a second to register, she's so caught up in the feeling of being hollowed out, of being reduced to almost fucking nothing, just like she was before, and this can't be happening again. But finally she hears his voice and turns to him, expression as empty as she feels, and then he just, he fucking goofs, just completely loses it in front of her, like they're kids again and she just sat her own ass on fire. Like this wasn't the worst thing to happen to her in a decade, like they're not way more screwed with both their magic on the blink than previously thought, what the fuck?

And all of that builds in the face of his hysterics until she can't stand still anymore and she drops the wand and just straight up tackles him to the ground, but even as they're going down in a tangle of limbs the sound of her brother's laughter shakes something loose in her, fills up the emptiness completely and now she's laughing too, great big whoops even as she halfheartedly tries to pull his ear. "You, you horrible clown!" she wails through tears and fondness. "I can't believe I spent all this time trying-- reaching out to you! Should've stuck with Merle!"

Edited 2017-08-13 13:22 (UTC)

Taako goes down like a sack of rocks, in no small part because he's still literally carrying one. Oh he knew he was gonna get fucking murdered for that, and rightfully so, but there was just no way in hell of stopping it from happening, once he had the thought. He squawks indignantly, still through helpless laughter, and tries to weasel away from her attack with little success. "Worth it!" he sings out, like they haven't a care in the world beyond this tussle.

Look, nothing about the past few years has made him good at respecting a mood, and that isn't about to change. Besides, if he can't crack her up in the face of that kind of devastating loss of power, they're pretty much fucked anyway, since that's the extent of his problem solving currently. "Yeah, and I should've left you in the umbrella," he counters, because God, how can they both be laughing over any of this, joking over who between her brother and one of their best friends should have looted her corpse for her accidental phylactery, that's fucking awful, there are maybe more tears than even this level of wheezing hilarity warrants. "See? This isn't even a drop in the bucket by our standards of effed up, this dumb plane is gonna kick us out in horror before we get a chance to do it ourselves."

It's just so much, everything that's happened and is still happening, the Hunger still attacking the other plane, and all the helplessness she's barely left behind only to be struck down again, all the suffering she's caused, the horrible terrifying loneliness of being forgotten, and now having to struggle for survival from the ground up, she feels like she's going to burst. But everything she's ever had or needed is right here and she clings to him, letting him ground her, fingers digging deep into his robes as if to confirm the solidity of him even as more helpless laughter and tears bubble out of her.

"Merle would've probably, he'd have sat on the umbrella at some point and I would have been free months ago," she wheezes and a hiccuppy sob escapes her in between all the giggling at the thought of being saved by a fucking dwarf butt. Shit, that was clearly her biggest oversight, what was she thinking. After giving Taako's ear a pinch for old time's sake she finally lets the heaviness in her limbs take over and relents, sprawled all over him. She sniffles heartily and rubs at her wet face with a sleeve before looking up at his shit-eating grin and she knows, there's nothing any plane could throw at them that they won't beat, together. "You're gonna get us bounced the moment you try to Charm the owner of this place who clearly has a way higher Wisdom stat than you, you dingus." Because that's happened more than once before and her eyes are soft and bright with the memory.

What she's saying is definitely plausible, which is why he has to screech his denial loud enough something is probably gonna show up to eat them real soon. "Charm my ass! I'm mad as hell." And that has nothing to do with breaking down in laugh-cry hysterics over his poor dear sweet vulnerable sister absolutely beefing a spell. And then flat out assaulting him, like he took the last fantasy Lil Debbie cake when they were little, what a horrible murderhobo she's always been. "And also like, 20 percent easier to kill than I used to be, so you better learn some chill, you hooligan." He twitches his wronged ear mock-offendedly but doesn't push her away, even though she's gross and sniffly and probably gonna get snot on him. Ah, sib life. He didn't even know what he was missing. He can still remember it feeling right to be alone, if he tries, to never have been part of anything he didn't get off the ground by himself. And yet, 'right' isn't the right word at all. He's intensely grateful for the grounding contact, even if she might be in danger of cracking his sternum.

He swipes at his own face before flopping his arms on the ground in a tired sprawl. "Man. You really kinda took the spotlight off me having to cook, with that fireworks show." Is it weird to mix light burns with sincere gratitude? Probably not, right? "You think those bad boys are cool to the touch by now?" Remembering those poor ex-birds threatens to set him off again, if weakly. God, they are just a mess every which way.

Pssh, they're clearly too gross and disastrous and covered in sand to be appetizing, this is fine. Who'd wanna eat a bunch of washed up sun-dried elves anyway. She snickers into her sleeve at his theatrics and her ears don't stop quivering with barely suppressed amusement the entire time. "I learned so much chill in that umbrella, can't you tell?" she protests with mock-offense, but she takes his point. They're gonna have to rethink some strategies soon, specifically those involving their spells not fucking misfiring. God but can't they just stay down here for a while, this is absurdly snug and homey and she could sleep for like a year. Well, if it weren't for this literal pile of rocks digging into them from all sides.

With supreme reluctance she rolls off of him onto her back, shuffling her knapsack to the side with one arm, though she leaves the other draped across his chest. A whiff of burnt flesh and feathers reaches her nostrils and she briefly quakes with another impending fit at his words, shit, she really did a number on those poor fuckers. "I dunno, you're the one who's been sizzling it up," she snorts and it's a gentle dig but she really was impressed to hear how far he'd made it with his show. "And I hate to break it to ya, but we're still gonna need fresh water. Or you'll have to watch your beloved sister dry into a fine powder right in front of your eyes." She emphasizes the direness of her point by turning her face towards him and sticking out her tongue in a universal 'I'm super dead' grimace.

Edited 2017-08-13 21:44 (UTC)

"AGAIN, YOU MEAN?!" Now he's really crowing, because he actually did basically see that happen already, and the residual, retroactive horror is easily channeled into further theatrics. Is that messed up? Well, she messed it up. Rude, Lup. You couldn't let him win Sibling Trauma Grossout Hour just the one time? Now he does shove at her in retaliation, before getting back on his feet, exuding exhaustion despite his raucous performance.

He gathers up his wand and bag o rocks, eyes the...what even were those birds, he sighs with deeply poignant, award-winning resignation. "Get your birds, you ghoul. Gotta save my strength for the bowl. And the water, so you don't turn into bouillon." He makes an exaggeratedly disgusted face, that turns into a huge yawn, at even the thought of what he still has to do. Brief bird-destroying detour aside, he's not looking forward to this, in several distinctly unpleasant ways. But hey, what else is new about survival, right?

Ah, there's little else more healing for the ego than an utterly scandalized Taako and she accepts the shove with a proud grin like she's earned it. She'd thought lich jokes had gotten stale, but apparently they're vintage now, who knew. As tempting as it is to laugh in his face again, her belly is aching not just from hysterics and they'd really better get back to the survival part of this beach party. She heaves to her feet as well and takes a second to vaguely shake the sand out of her robe and hair. Whatever, worth it.

Futely stifling a yawn of her own, she picks up the bundle of sticks she'd dropped and grabs her victims by the remains of their feet. What's she gonna do without a precision attack spell like Magic Missile? Not every situation is suited to firey destruction in a several foot radius, even with spell shaping. Shit, is that even still a thing? Something awfully close to dread threatens to rise in her again but she fights it down, instead experimentally shaking their extremely well done dinner with a look of mild disgust. Flakes of ash gently drift to the ground. Delicious. For now, they're more reliant on Taako's transmutation to not be a shitshow than her defenses, so let's cross that hella shaky bridge first. For the record, this beach stinks. She hoists up her bag with a groan and turns to him. "We got enough rocks, d'you think?" Please tell her they have enough rocks.

"Oh yeah, we had enough like fifteen minutes ago, you just seemed like you were super into rocks." He is exhausted but incorrigible, the banter and goofs at odds with his tired shuffle oceanwards. "We need more wood, though, but you can do that while I cook us up a bowl." It's nice to be able to put someone competent to work, for sure, there's a lot that's comforting and familiar about this time-tested method of bickering while somehow assigning tasks ultimately very sensibly despite that. Buuuuut he also really wouldn't mind not having a close audience for this, if it's going to be some kind of federally mandated ordeal of a cast. Which is unfair, after everything that just went down, but them's the breaks. She can make fun of the bowl once it's made, if he doesn't pass right the fuck out, or whatever. Shit, he hopes he doesn't just pass out. This is such a shitty adventure. "Then I can do water, and then you can help haul it all back to the fire."

Well listen to him being the grand mayor of Fucktown-by-the-Sea, which they are in the process of founding right here. She'd even say that out loud, if she wasn't way over putting more than the minimum effort into basically anything at this point, so instead she just flips him off as she trudges after him. It's not like there's anything to really argue, this is pretty much all that's left for them to do, and boy is it going to suck if any of that fails. She's still not worried about the quality of his transmutation as much as the... actual existence of it, now. And she hates that that's riding on him, and that she can't do anything to help. Wouldn't it be hilarious if his spell fizzles and she gives it a shot and does it. Ha ha, a real hoot. She's going to fucking quarter whoever dragged them here.

Once they've reached the water and he seems about as ready to do his thing as he's going to get, she drops her knapsack and the birds at his feet, and then hesitates. She wants to stay, but he pretty clearly told her to fuck off for this. "I'm gonna go get us that wood? So watch your head if you end up going down like a sack of potatoes, I guess." She's too weary and anxious for his sake to make that sound breezy enough for banter, and she pats his shoulder sort of patronizingly, and she doesn't quite leave yet.

Oh whatever Lup this was a sensible order of operations and you know it, don't hate because he can exercise some logistical thinking instead of just roasting the shit out of innocent birds. He doesn't even acknowledge her frankly childish display, that's that extra decade of maturity for you, bam, who's the older twin now, can you even age in an umbrella, he thinks the fuck not. This definitely isn't him being preoccupied by what's at stake, and how he might be about to completely fail at the only thing he's good for, here.

He looks at her morosely, and he kind of regrets laying out this plan where she's not there to make sure he doesn't concuss himself right to shit, and he is already preemptively missing her moral support, questionable as it is. But he stands by it, and at least if he does he won't have this hanging over him anymore. "Well if I do, I'm bequeathing you my shitty bird." She'll have the indigestion to remember him by. "And make sure I look good at my funeral, I want to go out how I lived. Seriously, full face, hair on point, strangers had better cry and you better be out of slots." He sits down like his bones are made of sticks and starts dumping out rocks, they're gonna get past this unspeakable horseshit. "Fuck off, Lup," he manages to say with incongruous gratitude, "I got this."

For a moment there he really does look like he's about to go to his own funeral and it's kind of really awful. Being cut off from her magic is terrifying as hell, but she's ready to fistfight whoever is responsible, she doesn't give a fuck. All she needs is a nap and this island is going down. He, though, he takes things more to heart than people ever get, always has.

But he wouldn't be her goof of a brother if he didn't have some dumb shit to say instead of letting just any old obstacle get the best of him, and when he sits down she feels herself relax. "Yeah I know," comes the simple truth, and she gives his hat an affectionate flick of a finger before turning back to the trees. "Here lies Taako Tacco," she proclaims with absolute gravity, "he died as he lived - fondling a stranger's stones." And she walks off, whistling some kind of funeral march as she goes, though one ear remains rotated back to pick up on any telltale wizard swears or sounds of fainting.

Edited 2017-08-15 15:43 (UTC)

"Yeah whatever, can't hear you over how much I wish I were still an only child," he times his comeback so she's just close enough to out of earshot he can get in the last word. It's an artform, and he's still got it. He lets her continue out of range, while he painstakingly piles rocks into a rough bowl shape. It shouldn't be necessary, he should be able to stack them into a fuckin zen garden flipping the universe a hard stony bird, but he doesn't think he should push any envelopes just now. He feels like he should maybe mutter something inspirational, and stifles what is probably an emotionally overstimulated laugh at the idea. Life closes a door, you open it right the fuck back up, because that's how doors work. That's what he's doing. He rubs his hands together around the shitty wand and tries his first Fabricate of the night.

And oof, is it brutal. But at least it works, after a heart-dropping moment where nothing responds, just cosmic dial tone. The relief he feels is overwhelming but shortlived. This is, shit, it's a lot of rocks, maybe he was overzealous in his estimation? There's a lot of backtalk, magically speaking. Gaps that refuse to close until he's grit his teeth and bent his will on them like a blowtorch, breaking out in a sweat that instantly chills, leaving him clammy and shaking. It would be embarrassing, if he weren't just so done, just completely over this fucking island and its magical limitations. There's a reason this is a level 4 spell, and this is ten minutes of his life he'd drink acid to avoid having to repeat.

Unfortunately, repeating it is exactly what he has to do next, now he has a bowl. A very large bowl, and definitely falling well short of artisanal. 'Rustic' would be an undeserved compliment, he thinks, out of breath and listening to his heart hammer in his ears. Probably the smart thing to do would be to rest before jumping back into it. But it's been a long day and this needs to be over, they need to get on with things, and they don't have time for him to fuck around. It's down to him, but he's not the only one who needs this to work. He gets to his feet, and though he feels like a pile of loose string he shoots Lup a thumbs up, hoping she can't see his legs shaking. Taako's good, stay out of his way.

He fills his new bowl with the cleanest sea water he can manage, and he really wasn't kidding about how instrumental Lup is gonna be in getting his bad boy back to the fire. Was water always this heavy? He is so tired his brain feels foreign, even moreso than just having a bunch of new old stuff shoved into it can explain. He gets clear of the waterline and sits back down, full of dread.

This cast is easier, at least at first, though it requires something like more precision to remove salt from sea water than to squoosh rocks around. Taako has one hand stuck in the bowl, and a crystal of rock salt starts to take shape in it. The resistance doesn't pick up immediately, and it's very gradual, but it's hard to miss over time; the water is slowly heating up, in protest. It isn't bad, yet, and he knows enough about the properties of water to know it won't boil before he's done at this rate. It is going to get less pleasant, though, for sure, and he tries any trick of concentration or cajoling he can to offload some of the resistance even as his head swims.

It is a grim ten minutes, but the result is a stupidly large bowl of unpleasantly hot but desalinated water. He doesn't even remember to worry about its trustworthiness, this is a different game, and he's won it. Taako gets to back on his feet, wobbly but triumphant, and promptly fails a Con save, salt rock still clutched in one fist. With a vehemently hissed swear, his vision tunnels and then goes black.

It's a good thing he waited with that comeback until she's that far away, because he won't be able to see her step falter for just a second. Still an only child. It's just a stupid joke, and she knows that, but it's the wording of it that totally blindsides her, like a knife to the back. He never was an only child, but in his mind there's a version of him that was, and for ten years that was the only version of him out there, fighting for himself, having always done so, never looking for or even missing her. And she just got a glimpse of that version again, even though she's right here, now. And what is she, when she's not reflected in her twin? A fading ghost of someone who never existed.

It's a tired road to go down, one she's already plenty worn out a couple times, and she thinks of putting everything she had, everything she still was, into screaming for him, clear as day, only to be met with utter... nothing. Couldn't even say her name, didn't even know it was a name. There might as well have been nothing left of her after that. But it's a worn road and a stupid joke and they both still have a lot to do. He is doing his part and she's determined to do the same. She is here now and she won't ever let him forget it. When she catches a thumbs up out of the corner of her eye, she returns it without hesitation, hoping he can't see that she's not smiling.

They've got a bowl now, that really is good news, and boy have their standards reached an all time low. At least the magic in this place got its shit together long enough not to completely wreck her brother and their first night back together. She knew he could do it, anyway. So she starts picking up firewood with a little more vigor, arching a wide path back to what's left of her fire, mentally calculating how much longer she needs to stay out of Taako's hair. By the time she drops a respectable pile of wood by the cinders, she's got about a hot minute to shake out her aching arms before she hears a hiss and a doughy thud and all she can see in the distance is a huge bowl and an only slightly bigger pile of clothes. Oh fuck.

Lup sprints over to him and tries very hard not to wonder if you can die from magical exhaustion in this dumpster plane in the minute it takes to get to his side. Thanks for putting that horrifying idea on her mind in the first place, bro, really appreciated! Wow he looks like shit, just literally ate dirt here, but when she rolls him over and carefully rests his head in her lap, she can see he's breathing. Joke's on you, every muscle in her body, she was already sitting down. "Taako, those would've been terrible last words," she mutters, voice strained and pitch dreadfully out of control, as she brushes hair from his face and takes off his hat like it's restricting airflow. You never know, with that thing. "You can do better than that, c'mon. I'm not drinking all of this on my own."

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taako adventurezone found dead in miami

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