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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[The barrage of questions is expected, but it doesn't stop Frisk from wilting slightly beneath the task of answering them all. They stare at their palms and gulp down a wave of overwhelming unease, rolling as violently as the ocean. The full scale of the situation is catching up to them: they're the only one here who can help both of these strangers at once. That means they don't have time to deal with all of... the details.]

[Scooting closer to Ignis -- both so they can examine him and so they don't have to raise their voice too loudly to be heard -- Frisk takes a steadying breath and readies their report.]

There's an island over there. It has cliffs... and it's far. I think we'll make it before night.

...

We have bags, too. [They haven't looked in theirs. Frisk, it's labeled, and it's petty that they resent that but they do.] I can check yours if you want.

[The rowing starts steadily again and Ignis finds a small frown passing across his features. It makes sense for the Silent One to focus on that since communication is next to impossible between them, but it still makes Ignis uneasy. He doesn't want them to feel left out, but he is genuinely unsure how to reach out to them without it being forced. It doesn't help that the Child seems unsettled, or at least, uncertain of the role they've been given.

Bloody hell! Ignis hates that he's being such a burden to everyone. If he is causing this much trouble now, how will he ever be able to continue helping Noctis and the others?

No, he can't let himself linger in that train of though. Thankfully, the Child's answers to his questions help distract him. Gathering information and making plans. He can still do that. Ignis doesn't need his sight for it. Just his mind and someone willing to answer a few questions for him.]

If we can, lets make our first goal getting to land before dark then. Back home, we had powerful daemons that came out at night. I don't know if anything like that happens here, but it would be unwise of us to risk it.

[This is spoken to both of them, but Ignis' next words are directed more toward the Child specifically.]

Would you mind terribly? I'm certain I can figure out what is there given time, but if there is something that may help us now, I would rather not waste the time need for me to realize that.

[Get to land quickly. More than fair. The Drifter takes the words under advisement, and redoubles their efforts - as well as their speed. The oars scythe through the water with slightly more effectiveness, though they certainly aren't speeding along at quite the expeditious pace that would be preferred.]

[They're new at this. What else can they do? But they will not force a blind man and a child to carry that burden. They are a drifter, and drifters are nothing if not resourceful.]

[To place the burden of communication on a child at all is an unfair twist of fate. Capable as children may be, they are much better suited to playing games of soccer and running about a quietly accommodating village than they are being stranded with a blind stranger and a silent drifter.]

[Diverting their attention from rowing to communicate is a minor annoyance, but it is one they will simply have to bear; there is no other choice.]

i will guard against whatever there may be.

[Perhaps they would not always have made such an oath. But the drifter who took them in without a second thought - their friend, their guardian - had done the same. And would have wanted them to do the same.]

[That is the thought that spurs them on.]

[Demons that come out at night. Frisk wonders if they're just monsters, too -- or if they're closer to the shadows that truly did haunt the castle they spent a year in. Dangers aren't so easily and willfully overlooked, anymore. Frisk hasn't had a choice in that for a while.]

... thank you.

[Their voice is raised again, even though they now sit right next to the man, and perhaps that's the greatest indicator that they're speaking to the blue-skinned stranger. Frisk doesn't look in their direction, anyway -- they're busy pull the nearby knapsack closer, finally getting a good look at the name emblazoned on front. Ignis. That's a nice name. Reminds them of fire.]

[For their part, they're silent as they undo the buckles and pockets and start rummaging. A small pile of items begins to grow in their lap as they verbally list things off for the blind man.]

Sewing stuff. An axe. A... an... an MRE. [They pause, the package crinkling between their fingers. They guess most people wouldn't know what that is without looking at it. Remembering the name themself took effort.] It's dried food in a bag.

[There's an even longer pause before they call out the last item, and they're quick to put everything back before putting a name to it.]

And a razor.

[Blind as he is, the change in the Child's voice does tell Ignis they are speaking to the Silent One. After all, he's said nothing himself to warrant the gratitude. A spike of frustration hits him at not knowing what has been communicated, but he pushes the emotion aside. Right now, he has to trust they will tell him if it is something he needs to know. There is no other choice.

As he listens to the Child list off what is in the bag, Ignis finds himself laughing despite the grim situation.]

It's almost as if they know I cook and are mocking me for it. I can only imagine the sins they have committed against the food in that kit. At some point, I shall just have to see what I can do to rescue it.

[It will be difficult with his blindness and the shortage of proper tools, but Ignis has never been one to give up on a challenge. If he was, he would have given up long ago on recreating that dessert for Noctis.

It does seem a little odd to Ignis how long the Child pauses before they tell him what the last item is. Do they not have razors where the Child is from? Is it merely an age thing or is it something worse? Questions he can't linger on for now, Ignis knows, but that doesn't stop his mind from proposing them anyway.]

It is unfortunate that I don't think any of that will be much use to us now, but I thank you for your assistance nonetheless. Now...

[Ignis pauses long enough to look in the direction of their third companion, though his words are still directed at the Child.]

I may not be able to see, but if there is another oar, I am certain I should be able to paddle with a little help. Would you be willing to help me? I would hate for our friend to exhaust themselves.

[He doesn't mention how much his arms hurt from the injuries he sustained before being brought here. It's just pain, and right now Ignis needs--more than anything--to do something active to help.]

[It is well obvious that they lack the means and stamina necessary to paddle them all the way to shore. They cannot afford to be bitter over such a thing; it is simply a fundamental fact. They are built for speed, not for the sort of brute strength that would truly benefit this situation.]

[But halting, even from exhaustion, is utterly unthinkable.]

[The text flicks up shortly after his pronouncement:]

i can take us.

[At Ignis' request, Frisk's head turns again to the third occupant of the boat; not to read their text, though they certainly do see it. It hadn't occurred to them that the stranger might get tired. Maybe Frisk got caught up in the idea that they were a monster, like Undyne, the first to take up arms and push forward with a near-endless well of determination. Or maybe they just didn't think about it at all.]

[The second oar lies just a few feet away from the stranger. Frisk climbs unsteadily to their feet, shuffling their way over against the roll and drift, and picks it up, jams the edge between the raft boards to steady themself a bit. They pull softly at the stranger's coat -- just a tug, before letting go.]

It's okay.

[Then they turn around and hobble back towards Ignis, maneuvering the oar around so that the handle bumps softly against his knee. It's obvious to even them that it's far too large for them to operate, or else they'd have volunteered for the job from the start.]

Here.

Thank you.

[The words are both for the Child and the Silent One since Ignis gets the impression from the short exchange he heard only one side of that their other companion was at least a little resistant to his offer. Still, they didn't try to stop him from assisting and for that he's grateful.

Ignis pulls the oar into his lap, fingers running nimbly over it so he can commit its size and shape to memory. Once he's done that, he carefully rocks himself up onto his knees, biting back a flinch when he is painfully reminded that one of those knees was in pieces not all that long ago.]

We are just paddling straight for the time being, right? How close am I to the edge of the raft?

[From the spray that's been hitting him off and on, he suspects he's pretty close, but the last thing Ignis wants to do right now is suspect wrong.]

[...it is a fair assumption.]

[They're just a fragile thing, in all essence. Blue skin, dark eyes, a nomadic occupation that does not lend itself well to forming friendships that will last. They have taken up the cloaks and weapons and sprites of those drifters that came before them, reaped their supplies from their bodies, and many have, on many an occasion, interpreted such as a sign of open disrespect. Drifters do not prosper with the best of reputations. Particularly those of their race.]

[Perhaps it is even obvious, with the faint, pungent cling of sickness to their cloak, that they are not all well.]

[They allow the child to take the oar, and give it over to the blind man. The Drifter pauses.]

we may time it right.
in rhythm.

[They are no sailor, but rowing a boat must be the same as dashing along a ridge of clattering platforms, fragile enough to fall into the murky waters below at the slightest of pressure. One must establish a definitive rhythm, and not break it for anything.]

[Lest they lose their way.]

[It's impossible for Frisk to watch the both of them at once, but they try, their frizzy head swinging back and forth as the conditions of both of their companions continue to catch up with them. Their lips press into a thin line as they shift to their knees.]

[Frisk sets their palms on the butt of the oar, one over the other, and gently pushes it down towards the surf, trusting Ignis to understand the guiding gesture. Once the broad end dips into the water, they shift their grip to hold onto the very end. Their eyes flicker towards the horizon. It's far, but they've traveled farther.]

I'll keep it in rhythm. Follow with me.

[They can still push and pull, even if they don't have enough strength to actually propel the raft. If they provide the pace, maybe Ignis can provide the power.]

[Ignis is more than willing to follow the Child's lead, but he can sense the way they are having to glance back and forth, and he worries if they continue, they may get dizzy and unbalance themselves. His reactions are quick, but right now he doesn't trust himself to be able to judge where they are should they begin to fall.]

Hold for a moment, please. I believe I know a better way.

[He pauses the rowing then, letting the oar remain slightly in the water so he can keep track of its level.]

Watch our friend and then tap out the rhythm on the wood of the raft. I will follow. It make take a moment to work out the exact timing, but it will be easier on you.

[It is not a bad idea. The Drifter's eyes pinch shut briefly in an indication of approval - one that will be lost on the blind man, undoubtedly, but at least they can half-turn now to face the child.]

[Lift a hand, thumb and forefinger outstretched in a crooked U-shape, held above the spot where their mouth (might?) be located.]

[They're smiling.]

[It's going to be okay.]

[And they set off to rowing at a slow, steady rhythm.]

[Haha, what a weird way to smile. Frisk suddenly thinks that the stranger must really be a kind person, if they put work into showing a gesture that humans tend to take for granted. They add their own nod of agreement to the plan, now unanimous, and make sure to voice it for their other companion. The one who's equally kind, despite having the greatest handicap present.]

OK. Ready.

[They watch the stranger row once; twice; back and forth, in steady cadence. By the third beat, they're tapping their foot against the wood right next to Ignis, in perfect rhythm with the broad strokes of the first oar.]

[With how close the Child is to him, Ignis can not only hear the tapping, but feel the vibration through the wood. Between the two sensations, it doesn't take him long to fall into the proper rhythm, and he smiles when he feels the raft pick up some speed.]

I can't begin to guess what your worlds are like, but on mine, this is how they kept rowers in time before there were motors to power boats. A drummer beat out each stroke.

[Don't mind Mr. Factoid over here. Ignis just doesn't want anyone to give him full credit for an idea that was thought up long before he was even born.]

[The Drifter has next to no experience with boats, aside from the vague notion that rowing is how one gets from one place to the next. The function of the oars had not been difficult to guess, though they cannot particularly say that they're enjoying the sensation thus far.]

[All the same, they will persevere. They push through all adversaries, and they will push through this as well.]

[Their attention returns to the oars.]

we will be there soon.

[They might have different definitions of the word "soon."]

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

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