lifeaftr | October Aftermath: Crystal Clear

Who: All!
What: You're back, for better or worse. Time to recover.
When: Backdated to the 24th and beyond.
Where: The Monkey Compound, Islets, etc.
Warnings: Mark as you go.

No matter where you are on the morning of the 24th, things will very abruptly go dark.

Unless you're dead. In which case, things are already dark. And you do not see this.

For the rest of you, however, the Storyteller appears only briefly. Gone is their seemingly indifferent nature; as the rabbit hops too and throe, the pages of their tome flick back and forth in an erratic pattern, stopping on a blank page for only a moment, before continuing on. Despite the pages always turning in the one direction, there seems to be no end to them, not at all.

"I'll keep this brief, for the moment. All of you have now been removed from the caverns below," A haggard sigh- and a reluctant addition. "Those of you still alive.

"Your efforts have allowed me access to what lies below. I have sealed off the entrances- from now, the responsibility of cleaning up the mess is upon me."

And that appears to be it. Darkness returns, along with the sensation of lying upon the sand. Birds call out from the jungle, joining the rhythmic shift of the waves. No matter where you were on the island; underground, or above, you awaken upon the shoreline near the Storyteller's temple, along with the rest of the survivors.

"For what it is worth, I am truly sorry."

[[If you have yet to do so, make sure you confirm your character's death here!]]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Muffet's heart breaks a little bit at the sight of him, and she looks at him for one long, wordless moment before kneeling down beside him and reaching out to give the poor boy a hug.]

[It's not, she knows, enough- but it's something clearly long overdue, despite that.]

[...And there's nothing.

He doesn't even try to hug back. He leans in, just a little, but he doesn't look at her.]

[Muffet hugs him closely despite that, and speaks so quietly it's barely more than a whisper, so only he can hear her:]

They will return. The Storyteller can revive the dead if they so choose, and they will be coming back to us.

It is a grievous loss, but it does not have to be a permanent one. Hold to that.

[And, finally, there's a flicker of life - his eyes slowly move to look at her. He didn't know about that, that they'd be coming back. That is good to know.

... But it still hurts. He couldn't prevent it at all. Mickey promised to take care of all his friends, and believed he could. And. He couldn't do a thing.]

[Muffet sees the motion and keeps speaking, softly and gently, still holding him:]

This is a wound that will heal. Not perfectly, because it was a deep and painful one, and such things do leave people permanently marked. It may scar, and it may ache from time to time- but it need not be the end of you, nor of any of us.

You may not be exactly as you were, before you lived through this. But you did live through it. And what lives will always heal as best it can.

[But why did he live through it, when others didn't? Why did good, strong people have to suffer, instead of taking someone weak and useless like him?

His face gets hot. He'd been trying to fight tears for so long, but this is another battle he's about to lose. Big strong men shouldn't cry. His face scrunches up in one last desperate bid to make it stop.]

[If he thinks he hasn't suffered, he clearly hasn't been paying attention. And letting a friend see that you're suffering isn't a weakness, despite what anyone might think. Muffet looks him in the eyes, expression gentle and sympathetic.]

There's no shame in being hurt, or in reaching out to someone for help, no more than if you were asking someone to help you bandage a cut.

If anyone judged you for showing that you were hurt, they would be very foolish indeed- and a hypocrite, too. We're none of us beyond pain.

[No one living is, at least.]

[And with that, the floodgates open. Sorry about your dress, Muffet, cause Mickey's going to bury his face in it for a nice good sob-fest.]

[Muffet hasn't given less of a damn about fashion in years than she does right now- having to give her capelet a bit of a wash is a small price to pay for any comfort she can offer him.]

[She holds him close, gentle but firm, and rubs his back with one hand as he lets out what he's been carrying.]

I'm sorry that you- or anyone- had to go through this. It's neither right nor fair, and I would have spared you all from it if that were within my power.

[It seems to go on for ages, at least that's how it feels for Mickey. When he finally gains some semblance of control, he pulls back a little, mumbling.]

... S-sorry.

[She smiles gently at him, weary but kind.]

You've nothing to apologize for, dearie. I only wish I could do more.

[he sniffles, rubbing his nose.]

... Me too... I wish there was more I could do.

[She sighs, and nods sympathetically.]

I think just about everyone here does, at this point- but ultimately there's only so much any of us can do alone and unprepared.

... Do you... think we're prepared now?

[It would be nice to give him a more comforting answer, but ultimately she's not going to disrespect him by lying now.]

For everything? No. We are more prepared than we were, certainly, but we have no idea what might yet be out there.

But even if we're not guaranteed success, we keep trying anyway. Prepare as much as we can, and try to make it be enough.

[He slowly nods. He appreciates the truth, sad as it may be.]

I'll... I'll do my best. I'll really try. I won't... I won't look away from the hard stuff.

[She smiles gently, sad but warm.]

I know you will- and I will, too. I dearly hope there's no more tragedy for you to witness, but we'll stand against any that comes as best we can.

[Now that he's looking a little more alive, Muffet starts to take notice of his physical state as well as his emotional one, and adds:]

All future matters aside, we have some practical things to deal with right now. To start with, when was the last time you ate?

[He has to pause and think.]

... Uh... I don't remember.

[Which translates to A WHILE. IT'S BEEN A WHILE.]

[How many coconut cookies can one woman carry through an entire traumatizing cave journey?]

[Answer: apparently at least a few more than they needed, because Muffet somehow still has some. She pulls them out of her pocket and holds them out to Mickey.]

Here, have a few of these. I know it's hard to remember things like food under the circumstances, but you'll need the energy if you're going to be doing things. An empty stomach rarely, if ever, makes a situation better.

[Oh wow, just looking at those cookies is making his stomach growl. He blushes a little, embarrassed, before taking a cookie.]

Thanks, Muffet... for everything. I really mean it. If it wasn't for you... things would be a lot worse.

[She smiles gently at him, appreciating his kindness.]

You're more than welcome, dearie. I'm happy that I can help at all, even if I can't fix everything.

October Aftermath: Crystal Clear

Fucking hell, dude.

it's a world of laughter a world of TEARS

That is not okay.

it's a world of hope it's a world of FEARS

No.

there's so much that we share that it's time we're aware

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Probably wrapping soon.