The Mods of LifeAftr (
lifeaftr_mods) wrote in
lifeaftr2017-10-30 03:03 pm
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Entry tags:
- final fantasy xv: ardyn izunia,
- fragile dreams: ren,
- hyper light drifter: the drifter,
- marble hornets: tim wright,
- mass effect: commander shepard,
- original: chip abaroa,
- original: mira delacroix,
- pokemon sun & moon: guzma,
- pokemon sun & moon: luna,
- undertale: chara dreemurr,
- ✖ disney: mickey mouse,
- ✖ ffxiv: tataru taru,
- ✖ marvel 616: wade wilson,
- ✖ off: the batter,
- ✖ okami: amaterasu,
- ✖ osomatsu-san: karamatsu matsuno,
- ✖ rwby: jaune arc,
- ✖ rwby: weiss schnee,
- ✖ the adventure zone: lup,
- ✖ the order of the stick: roy greenhilt,
- ✖ undertale: frisk,
- ✖ undertale: muffet,
- ✖ undertale: sans the skeleton,
- ✖ world of warcraft: maridian,
- ✖ yuki yuna is a hero: karin myoshi
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!]]
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."
no subject
[The fact that it is gone.]
[A ragged dry-burst of air drags past their torn esophagus, something short and pained and frustrated. Gradually, they form the words with their hands in the vague hope that she might understand. Might.]
Do you speak without words?
no subject
[But when it comes to 'speaking without words', she can certainly read very obvious body language. Her eyes dart between the Drifter's hands and their unusually-darkened helmet display, seeing them clearly trying to tell her something, and she winces as she puts two and two together.]
I know... maybe five words of sign language, all together? I think I can remember 'yes' and 'no' at least, there's that much.
Was it broken before the Storyteller revived you?
no subject
[They slump against the dusty wall, defeat evident in every sloping line of their stance. A solemn nod of their head, and they have to crouch, slowly, to kneel over the dirt. They resorted to this once before. They will resort to it again. No one here listens in ways that are easily interpretable, and so they must make do. As always.]
[Swiftly, they sketch the words in the dirt, upside-down and facing her with an ease, despite the trembling lack of balance to their position, that suggests this is something they have had to do many times.]
FAILURE
ILLNESS OBSTRUCTED FUNCTION
no subject
There was little any of us could do, it seems. But we destroyed enough of the sigils that the Storyteller could act, and they removed us from the caverns and sealed the place off entirely.
[Before they can try to answer this time, she briefly looks around and picks up a small stick for them to write with, so they at least don't have to scrape at the ground with their hands.]
Ah, here.
no subject
[A stick like the kind Ren swears by. A stick like the kind they gave her. A stick that she earnestly insisted would protect them and would be better, far better, than an unbreakable hard light blade because she had been so deeply certain that a blade would break and that one would need a stick, would need many dozens of sticks, to replace the lost weapon and defend oneself from the monsters in the dark.]
[The Drifter looks at the stick and tries to put aside all associations that it summons in a swirl of grit and glittering rock, and mostly fails. They put the tip of the stick to the dirt.]
[It's slightly less unpleasant than scratching at the dust with their fingertips, but slightly more difficult to manipulate. They're not in a position where they might address the costs and the benefits to its useage, and so because it was given to them, because it reminds them of Ren, because it is absurd and sentimental, they continue to use it.]
YOU
MADE IT BACK?
no subject
Yes, I was one of the survivors the Storyteller brought up two days ago. None of us seem to have carried any traces of those crystals with us, thank the angels- I've checked carefully.
no subject
[Better it be someone who is well-accustomed to it.]
GOOD
SAFE
no subject
As far as we can tell, yes. There have been no further issues up here in the meantime, simply resting, recovering, and waiting for the return of the dead.
no subject
[The Storyteller informed them of this as well, then. That would make sense. A god takes care of both the living and the dead. This god, it seems, is no mere Anubis, nor are they any mere god of life. Rather, they take dominion over both. That is not unheard of; life and death are inextricably woven into each other, threads braided in black and white, green and gold, pink and turquoise, in beautiful synchronicity.]
HOW MANY
??
[How many dead?]
no subject
Unfortunately, I still can't be sure- I saw one or two personally and had a few more confirmed by witnesses, but there's always the possibility that someone I don't know well enough to keep track of went off somewhere on their own.
no subject
FAILURE
I OFFER APOLOGIES
no subject
I'm happy to offer any forgiveness you think you might need from me, but it was my failure as much as yours- or any of ours, who tried to help down there. What your blade could not save, neither could my magic.
no subject
FAILURE TO GOD
FAILURE TO ALL
no subject
[They may not believe her, she knows, but she's not going to lie to them.]
no subject
[They are getting out of here. They are traveling as they once could, no matter if it takes days to cross distance they once could have closed in an instant.]
[The conversation is, as far as they are concerned, over.]
no subject
no subject
[They can do so little except in glaring moments such as these, when they function in independence because they must, because it is a problem but they deal with problems as they come. As they do now ]
no subject
[She knows better than to try and insist they rest.]
no subject
[The same sort that Ren has provided, time and time again. The same sort that failed to protect them, in the depths of those caverns, for all her insistences that it would. Will they take the stick? Will they take it, despite the fact that it will do so little to save them?]
[They take the stick.]
[But instead of carrying it like a cane as suggested, they tuck it in their pack.]
Probably wrapping soon?
And will you take company, to walk beside you for a while?
[Deliberately phrased as a yes or no question, so they can answer with a nod or shake of their head instead of having to resort to writing.]
[She can't stop them, save them, or see the way to give them what they want. But she can at least walk in the same direction for a little bit, in case they collapse.]
probably
[And so, for now - no.]
[No.]
[Not today.]
Can probably wrap this with your next comment.
Go well, then. I hope we next see each other under happier circumstances.
no subject
[They go painfully and slowly and with wheezing breath and with a resolve to not look back. They go with an excruciating lack of ease and her words roar emptily like crashing waves.]
[But they go.]