lifeaftr | November Intro: Red Sun Rises Like an Early Warning

INTRO LOG: NOVEMBER

Who: Everyone!
What: New souls arrive to the archipelago of LifeAftr
When: November 3rd and beyond
Where: Ensō
Warnings: Mark as needed!

The New Arrivals: Hold My Hand
When you wake, it will be to the lapping of waves, frothed with foam...pulling at your hair, your skin, your clothing. The sand is soft and wet beneath you, but it's several inches submerged. And the longer you stay here, the more obvious it will be that the water level of the ocean ringing this strip of island has begun to to rise, and not merely because the tide has started to come in.

And what's more? You can tell that something else about this entire situation is horribly, horribly wrong.

Perhaps you've lost some special power. Perhaps some piece of your memory is freshly and disconcertingly blank. Perhaps you've just discovered that one of your senses is missing, or that you've been rendered unable to speak, or you've been struck by a debilitating fatigue. Not only are you stranded in some unfamiliar place, stuck on a rapidly flooding beach, but you aren't even doing it in full possession of all your faculties.

For those who agreed to put themselves at a disadvantage for a stranger, these are your consequences. If you're unclear as to the handicap your character has been assigned, if any, please check your initial acceptance notice!

All new arrivals will additionally awake with knapsacks, their names stitched to the front. The contents of said knapsacks can also be found in your acceptance notices!

For All: It's a Long Way Down
The water isn't a problem for the newest arrivals, either. It seems that the waters all over Ensō have started to rise, slowly at first, and then with a steadily increasing rate. At first, you might be forgiven for assuming the tide must simply be unusually high, or maybe that the island's begun to sink. But the longer it endures, the more obvious it becomes that neither is the case.

The water has begun to rise. Something is wrong with the island itself, or the being living on it, and now there is nothing preventing the water's inexorable approach as it steadily washes over and over the mainland. In fact, if you listen closely, you might even be able to hear a peculiar sound tearing over the cold rush of the coastal wind; something akin to a desolate wailing.

Either get to high ground - and quickly - or find out what's causing this. But either way, we suggest you hurry...because there are a great deal of newly arrived, very disoriented folk on the beach that could really, really use your help.

As a final note to those who participated in the Test Drive Meme, bear in mind that 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.

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 )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Well, this certainly wasn't the brown-haired child he was hoping to find, but it's still a kid. Golisopod is the first to spot them, head lifting up and antennae twitching as he scents a human close by. Prodding his trainer with one of his clawed arms gently, he points to the tree where they rest, catching their breath. Guzma pats his pokemon's side ("good job") and wades towards the kid.

Chip can probably hear the duo coming, their bulk making wading through the shin-deep water laborious and without much, uh...tranquility. No, there's churn and loud splashing as Guzma approaches with his large pokemon following behind. He stays well out of the child's reach - more for their benefit than his - and holds up a hand in greeting.]

Yo, pipsqueak, need a lift? [He jabs a thumb over his shoulder, where Golisopod peeks curiously at the youngster, two of his noodly arms leaning over Guzma's shoulder like he wasn't a good four or more inches taller than the man.]

[Chip jumps and turns when they hear the sloshing of Guzma's approach, but their eyes are quickly trained right onto Gosliopod in a wide-eyed stare. That monster is--it's not the same kind Asriel and Muffet are, but there's still something weird about it. Their eyes snap over to Guzma when he speaks, and they swallow down a lump in their throat.]

It's friendly?

[Ah...haha. He really shouldn't be irritated by the response, but he is. He is, and it's gotten so much worse over his time here - probably because people's fears of his big and freaky looking bugs can be woven into retaliation for no reason. He can count too many times already they've been outwardly threatened and frankly? He's real sick of it. There's a dislike of bug types back home, a fear of them, sure...but no one threatens to just plain slaughter them.

Apologies for the snappy, salt encrusted comment.]

Would I really offer 'im up to tote your backside around if he wasn't?

[Chip can't help the wince at Guzma's tone, and they look away guiltily.]

I-I didn't know if--if he's shy, or--

[Oh, why can't they just shut up? Chip clamps their mouth shut and wades over to them, looking up at Gosliopod and offering a hand for it to...sniff, they guess? It's not a dog, but they can't think of any other way to greet it.]

[Wow, G, you suck at this.

Is exactly what Golisopod is thinking, and shoves his trainer away as Chip moves forward to greet him. He doesn't so much as flinch as the man yelps and falls forward into the water with a huge splash. No, he lowers himself slowly and carefully down to look at the youngster and indeed sniff at them, but not with any nose Chip can see. Golisopod's antennae twitch and wriggle as they read the various scent in the air, surrounding himself and the child before him. He already knows his trainer's scent, and the marsh, so the newest one is the child, which he commits to memory.

After a moment to 'smell' them, Golisopod reaches out with one of his own hands, the big, black claw touching softly in Chip's palm. He sees his trainer do this often, with other humans, and which he has no actual hands...Golisopod knows that a handshake is what humans do when they meet someone.]

[Chip's mouth forms into a round 'o' as Gosliopod's antennae twitch and wiggle (are they like whiskers?) before startling slightly as it's great big claw reaches forward. But it just touches them, and Chip can't contain a tiny, delighted little laugh. They pat it's claw, then reach up to rub the top of it's head.]

I never thought a big bug was cute before.

[The huge insect squints his eyes shut in pure delight as he's pet, rumbling quietly, almost like a cat would if it were purring. The longer, more noodly on his legs, hanging from Golisopod's carapace, shift and twitch in delight as well, and the big pokemon pulls away when he's satisfied with the pets, nudging his head against the child's shoulder and letting the feelers around his mouth tickle their skin.

Meanwhile, Guzma is getting up, wringing out the water from his sopping wet clothes and shaking off his poor, drenched sunglasses. His glare is fiery as he huffs at his pokemon, a deep scowl on his face. No pokebeans for you tonight, mister.]

S'half the problem, yeah? You see just what your eyes do - not a big marshmallow looking for a cuddle. Softshell. [Guzma grunts, punching Golisopod in the side affectionately. The bug barely jolts, turning his head to make a loud, gurgling sort of noise at him before sticking out what's probably his tongue.

>8P]

[Chip squirms a little with a laugh from Gosliopod's tickling nudge, and watches the exchange with a barely contained grin, covering their mouth with both hands.]

Werewolves're like that--or, at least Dad is. He's the only one I've ever seen on a full moon.

[Not that an impression like that can ONLY be had of Grant on a full moon, but the idea is there.]

[Guzma pauses, just about stick out his tongue right back at his pokemon - you know...like a mature adult, but her does a swift double take when a very new concept is brought up. Now, the term 'werewolf' is not new to him - Lycanroc's midnight form was practically a werewolf and everyone knew it - but it's still strange to hear the term 'dad' coupled together with it. He's not as shocked as he would have been, months prior, but Guzma still raises a brow at the youngster.]

Uh...let me get this straight, yo. Your old man's a werewolf? Like, for real?

[Chip's demeanor immediately changes, from shyly opening up to suddenly scowling and balling their hands up into fists. People judging them for their blood, they can accept that, but Grant?]

Yeah, he is, and he's the best dad in the world! You gotta problem with it?

[Blinking, Guzma shrugs openly, holding out his hands, palm up, brows raised. Why's the kid getting so riled up?]

Hold up, ankle-biter. Why in the heck would I have a problem, with it? That's dope as heck, yo! Never been a rock type user m'self, but them Midnight Lycanrocs are sick, homie. [The fit his aesthetic, he means.] I mean, I ain't 'xactly the one to judge 'bout, uh...

[There's a pause, as Guzma squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head. Moving on. Quickly moving on.] Anyway, y'all need my help or not? I'm shoving off, and I got places to go.

November Intro: Red Sun Rises Like an Early Warning

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