October Intro: Aftermath Mingle

[lifeaftr_mods]

Who: All!
What: Now that you've all committed monkey genocide, it's time to clean up and go home.
When: Evening of the intro log- and onwards!
Where: The Monkey Compound, Islets, etc.
Warnings: Mark as you go!


Congratulations on effectively reversing the tables, adventurers. As the hunted become the hunters, the remaining simians begin to retreat into the jungle, disappearing from sight as the drumming dies down, before extinguishing entirely.

It appears that you have won.

Now it's time to clean up.

Those still in the Monkey Compound may wish to begin scavenging what they can, from multiple coconut guns to rudimentary spears. There's a flock of Bludroc happy to be herded to a new home, several stashes of fresh fruit to be found... and a rather large iron pot, for the particularly bold.

Others may be more concerned with returning to the islets and securing the personal belongings that were left behind. There are new people to settle in, as well; and undoubtedly, a few injuries yet to be healed.

Reunite, rejoice, recover. And perhaps, should you see the Storyteller about- ask a few questions.

Comments

/cha cha slides right on into this

[tenthstreetbred]

[She's gained a few wounds here and there but nothing too bad. She's been through worse. There's a lot to gather around here, a lot of provisions (and she's been eyeing that giant pot for a while...) but movement where she thought there would be none catches her eye and she stands up, wary and ready for another fight. But the ape she sees is unlike the apes whose blood is stained into her clothes. White, uninjured, and carrying an old book and Shepard knows instantly who they are.

Seeing them in the physical world is a strange feeling and it brings to mind a small worry, one that she sets aside for now. After all, there is no guarantee the worse will come to pass.]

Storyteller!

[She runs forward a bit to catch up with them but when they stop and sit she slows down until she's standing in front of them.]

This is probably silly to say but I'm glad to see that you're all right.

[story_teller]

Commander.

[Their greeting is prompt, but not impolite. All in all, the Storyteller seems quite relaxed for one steeped in the carnage of creatures that look similar to them. How their fur has remained thusly gleaming, for that matter, is another mystery entirely.]

It's difficult to get injured when one doesn't participate. Glad for your armor, dated as it is, no?

[tenthstreetbred]

[Maybe they're born with it? Maybe it's Maybelline.

Shepard gives a slightly amused scoff, settling down to sit. She winces a little as she goes, some of the bruises and cuts causing discomfort.]

The first go round, absolutely. Made that first scuffle with these monkeys a breeze. This time they got me while I was sleeping and since I don't have a habit of sleeping in my armor I was bit unlucky this time.

[Those apes were damn lucky they gave her a strong sedative else they would have all died the moment they broke into her sorry excuse for a house.]

Were you in the temple the entire time they attacked?

[No accusation, no anger; She's certainly not looking to them for protection. That's something she pulls onto her own shoulders, as evidenced by how she did her best to get everyone out once she was free.]

[story_teller]

They did have a talent for strategy. Perhaps a sense of honor comes around further down the evolutionary line.

[Despite themself, the Storyteller sounds mildly disappointed. There had indeed been a great amount of potential in those apes -- and nonpartisan as they are, it isn't as though the Storyteller enjoys death. If the monkeys' own insatiable violence led them to this fate, then that is how it is.]

I was not. Nor was I here. I simply am, now.

[tenthstreetbred]

That'd be nice to see.

[She means it too. There is a certain thrill of the fight that she tries to ignore but fighting these creatures had not been more than self-defense and protecting the people who lived here. They were not their match in weaponry or abilities and thus it all felt rather... hollow. Perhaps, if they meet again, things will be kinder.

Right. That strange way of existing that the Storyteller has. She had forgotten about that. Or perhaps it is hard to comprehend, all in all, that they can stop being here and then be here again. It sounds rather fickle.]

Well, now that you're here, what is it that you're doing? Do you know anything about that door?

[story_teller]

Yes.

[It is not a pleasing day for the Storyteller. First the destruction of an entire species, if a well-merited one, and now...this. This, the second finding of this nature in very little time. It bodes poorly for the physical space of this, their home.]

It is a twin to its fellow on the mountain, and just as obstructive.

[tenthstreetbred]

[They don't sound all that happy with these developments and Shepard can't begrudge them that.]

I'm assuming these doors weren't here the last time you were in power.

[It certainly seems like it, since they had no idea that they were here until now.]

Do they pose a threat to the island?

[story_teller]

You assume correct.

[And yet, they do not seem distinctly ruffled by this fact. It is simply par for the course, that something troubling would be unknown until the point it becomes bothersome.]

A door can lead to many things; dangers, treasures. Information. Doors alone cannot pose a threat to anyone... unless they're terribly inefficient, in door opening.

What is behind them, however, I cannot say.

[tenthstreetbred]

[The thought of a door opening and hitting someone, killing them instantly, is certainly an entertaining food for thought, but Shepard refocuses on the conversation at hand quickly.]

So there are things on this island that you can't see.

[A statement. A very interesting one. One that she puts a pin in for later.]

[story_teller]

If there are measures taken against me -- no, I can't.

[Their tone takes a subtly acerbic edge. No one appreciates being locked out of a portion of their own home, after all.]

The sigil upon that door does not favor me. And I do not favor it. That is where you come in.

[tenthstreetbred]

You say that like the sigil is alive somehow.

[Maybe it is. She kind of hopes it isn’t. Though… that sounds like a mission. She squares her shoulders.]

You want me to break through the barriers?

[She bites her tongue back from adding an instinctual “sir” at the end.]

[story_teller]

[They make no comment to confirm nor deny her observation. If the sigil is indeed alive, or if is simply a tic of their language, the Storyteller does not elaborate.]

I want to know what lies beyond them. If you should see fit to break them in the process of helping me obtain that information -- then yes.

[They pause, eying her with a gaze the color of bright, red berries.]

Don't mistake me. I am not forcing you into my will against your own. Your initiative in this would be your own, Commander.

[tenthstreetbred]

[They want to see what is beyond and, in all honesty, Shepard does too. Beyond the functionality of facing potential threats to the well-being of those on the island, she has always been a curious woman, able and willing to push boundaries to get to the bottom of any mystery.

She meets their gaze evenly, unconsciously standing at the ready. All attention she had been paying to her wounds is gone. The only focus now is the task ahead of her, whenever the Storyteller decides to give it.]

You would be putting us beyond those barriers, yes, seeing as we have no way to go ourselves? If you do not consider that forcing your will upon us, you must at least acknowledge it is coercive in nature.

[She does not speak for herself in this manner. She knows where she stands.]

Breaking those sigils is, to my best estimates, a mutual benefit. If it allows you greater access to the island that should in theory help us too.

[If they are truly their ally, as Shepard trusts they are.]

[story_teller]

Correct. In theory.

[Is it coercive to dangle a new and dangerous thing above the heads of so many intrepid go-getters? Probably. The Storyteller never claimed to be a saint.]

I haven't denied my own interest in this matter to a single person. Still, it is ultimately your choice as to go or not.

[tenthstreetbred]

[In theory. Ok sure, Storyteller.]

Then you know what my choice is.

[It's not hard to assume where Shepard's personal stance on this is, seeing as she's made a career out of being thrown into strange situations at the whims of those in authority.]

[story_teller]

I do.

[This, they don't deny, and thus their response is prompt.]

May the stars guide you even beneath the earth, Commander.