lifeaftr | December Intro: Don't Come Home for Christmas

Entry tags:

December Intro: Don't Come Home for Christmas

INTRO LOG: DECEMBER

Who: Everyone!
What: New souls arrive to the archipelago of LifeAftr
When: December 3rd and onward
Where: Monsun
Warnings: Mark as needed!

The Overview: Uncharted Waters
Stay alert, new adventurers; instead of the white-sand beaches of Enso, you will instead be coming to on one of two sides of the relatively uncharted lands of Monsun. Most of the information regarding this peculiar land can be found in the informational post linked, but as a quick-and-dirty rundown: Monsun's western side is a hot wasteland of a desert prone of disasters and mishaps, but will affect your character's emotional and psychological state in a positive sense, while its eastern side is a verdant forest filled with endless resources...as well as a tendency to bring out the absolute worst of your character.

To start with, all new arrivals will be showing up in one of two squares that characters uncovered last month! We are leaving it up to player discretion as to which side of the island your character arrives on, but bear in mind the psychological repercussions!

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

Monsun, C4: These Are Your Good Years
You wake to the hot sun steaming overhead, rapidly drying your clothes and belongings, waterlogged from washing upon this desolate shore. The heatwaves shimmer at your vision, distorting your view of the horizon. But if you really squint, it looks like there might be something dark green fringing that pipecleaner skyline, like a lush woodland awaits you on the other side of this desert nightmare. A mirage, maybe?

Whatever it is, you don't get very long to contemplate it. Beneath your feet, the ground has begun to shake as a many-headed horror erupts from the earth. Great streams of pale sand slough from its dry, scaly hide as multiple horned heads unfurl in a hissing inflorescence. The creature's eyes are all pale as grubs; it is quite blind. But that does not mean it cannot smell you.

Boasting both a thick hide and a chitinous coat of sandy-colored scales that blends them perfectly with their surroundings, Sand Hydras sleep several feet under the sand until they sense the vibrations of potential prey aboveground. While they are significantly smaller than their mythological counterparts - they can only span eight to twelve feet in length - Sand Hydras are cunning creatures nonetheless with a number of heads that can vary from one to as high as ten. Their weakness, on the other hand, is simple: water burns them like acid. It seems they may flourish only in any moisture-poor environment.

Assuming your character lasts that long, remember: as physically destructive as Monsun's west may be, your character's most admirable traits will be amplified to their fullest potential by the twenty-four hour mark.

Monsun, D3: Before You Bury Yourself Alive
Those waking on the eastern side of the island, on the other hand, will face a far more pleasing tableau. The temperature is perfect, the sun shines modestly through the canopy of deciduous greenery above your head, and the air is thick and sweet with the smell of fresh fruit.

That's right - within minutes of their arrival, your character will discover several plants laden with fresh wild blackberries.

Should that temptation arrest their attention, should they be vulnerable to the foibles of greed or hoarding or paranoia, your character may very well wish to keep this treat to themself. Or...perhaps not. Perhaps they'd much rather search out a fight, or try to steal someone else's supplies, or embark on a poorly-advised mission to swim out into Monsun's surrounding waters.

For that is, after all, the catch: as physically soothing as Monsun's east may be, your character's most hateful traits will be amplified to their fullest potential by the twenty-four hour mark.

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

There's a hum in the air, in their bones. A warm halation of cerulean wreathes the pair of them, and the shock of it nearly draws them to a dead halt. There's a dimming, momentary and sharp and excruciating, of the pain that seeds their every muscle and aches in their lungs. The sickness that clings like an oil slick to their every atom and molecule dims, and they can straighten and stand the way they did before that affliction wrapped its claws about their throat and pulled.

To not be under the thrall of that dull, persistent ache, even for a fragment of a moment, is nothing short of miraculous.

The hydra hisses, its pale white eyes webbed with a spidering of violently scarlet blood vessels as its heads weave from side to side in search of its opponents. Poised as it is, they can time this right, time it perfectly, the way they had when the Immortal Cell writhed at their feet with black and pulsating drips of itself running in rivulets down across the floor and the heated pink of sclerosing veins held it together with the gaping rhombus of its glowering eye waiting for the final strike before iͨt̉ c͗aͬm̮e̵ r̋u̹sͧh̞i̴ňg͢ d̯o̟w̥nͪ -

It is not Judgment.

It is not Judgm -

The Drifter surges forward with a sharp hum of cyan light, graced with all the strength they need to cleave one of the creature's heads from the thick trunk of its neck.

There's nothing to suggest the chaos tumbling through the Drifter's mind; from her vantage point, it's only a brutally fast and precise swing of a shining blade and a spray of hydra blood. In spite of the danger, she can't help but feel a wave of pity for the beast as it writhes again, this time in agony. They seem to be on her side, but there's still something unsettling about their movements.

Uncertain about how the hydra will react to losing one of its two heads (she's faced some awfully persistent monsters before), she stays where she is, keeping the spell active and her gaze locked on the beheaded creature. When she speaks, it's without any certainty as to whether or not they can understand her - their silence has left it a bit ambiguous.

"If... If that doesn't stop it, maybe it would be better to run..."

There's a spray of gore from the stump of its neck as the hydra's remaining set of jaws part, its tongue and tail lashing, the felled neck writhing like some great, live snake. The creature's other head snaps its fangs with an unbroken hiss of outrage and pain.

They can, indeed, understand her, but they've not made that particularly clear. They've not spoken a single word.

The Drifter half-turns, pausing briefly to allow the companion sprite hovering at their shoulder to highlight and label her as a non-hostile. Then they whirl and loose a small, greenish orb from the folds of their cloak. It flares once before detonating in a blast of light.

Yuka herself, no matter how close she may be to the radius of the explosion, will feel none of that damaging brisance; the wind may lift her clothes and her hair, but nothing more.

Yuka flinches, raising her arms to protect herself, only for the wave of light to wash harmlessly over her. The hyrda, on the other hand, finally stops moving after a few more involuntary muscle spasms.

She exhales, releasing the enhancement spell now that it's not needed anymore. For now, she'll operate under the assumption that they can understand her, because might as well.

"Thanks for the help, I couldn't have beaten that thing alone. The monsters here are really strong..."

Finally, finally, at long last - the Drifter can turn to her to address her directly.

Not verbally, mind. They lost that capacity a long time ago. But the sprite hovering just at their shoulder chirps softly and projects a pale pink HUD, slightly translucent, and a line of text slithers across it.

hurt?

Oh! Communication! Very good!

"I'm fine, thank you!" More or less. Bruises go away on their own. "What about you? I've got a healing ability, so if you're injured..."

nothing fixable

They have learned to be vague, in that sense. If they waste time explaining the details of the sickness that they've yet to cure, the pain in their lungs and their chest and clenched around their heart in perpetuity, there may not still be time to waste.

should find shelter
more may come

Setting aside that slightly distressing answer, she nods, and surveys the landscape. Man, that's a lot of sand.

"You're probably right, but how are we supposed to find shelter in a place like this...?"

By now, they've registered that the island's peculiarities are not what one might call conventional. However, they've yet to cross into that verdant region at the island's east; most who require their aid require it on the western half.

other side of island bears woodland

They point to the dark strip of green across the horizon with a steady nod.

She peers at the strip of green. Aren't things like that supposed to be mirages or something? Well, it's better than nothing. She returns the steady nod, and starts walking, staying alert for signs of any more monsters.

"...I'm Yuka." They don't seem like much for conversation, and she halfway doesn't expect an answer, but it seems rude not to at least offer her name.

They aren’t, really. People on these lands have a tendency to introduce themselves, though the Drifter has nothing but a title that most will accept without much pleading or cajoling. The Drifter bobs their head in a polite nod nonetheless.

ok

And they’ll start off for that half of the island now, without further preamble, apparently assuming she will follow.

Yeah, that's about what she expected.

Well, if they don't want to chat, that's fine, really. They're probably wondering about the same things, anyway, so might as well just focus on reaching safety instead.

Yuka quietly falls in step next to the Drifter as they head towards what's hopefully safe territory.

At the edge of the sandy waste, a ribbon of dark water flows easily between desert and woodland. The Drifter pauses to gauge the depth and swiftness of the current. For whatever reason, they seem hesitant to cross.

They turn to her at last.

shallow

"Shallow? There should be no problem crossing it then, right?"

Despite being in possibly the exact opposite of practical swimwear, Yuka starts wading into the river. Not far in, she had a sudden thought, brought on by all the time she spent in the desert on the way here. "I don't suppose your pod can tell whether or not this water is safe to drink."

No problem crossing it, in theory. But they would prefer some bridge or raft or means of reaching the other side without needing to wade through the current itself.

But Yuka sets off without hesitation, and the Drifter draws to the very edge of the sand with an undeniable rigidity to their stance, the only indication of their apparent alarm. They do not yet follow.

cannot say
not deep?

"We'll probably have to swim a bit in the middle, but it's pretty shallow."

Now that she looks, their demeanor is somewhat odd. They haven't set foot in the river...

"...Is the problem that you can't swim?"

do not

The words are abruptly highlighted and deleted and are gone just as swiftly as they appeared. Their dark eyes skate away from the streamlined flow of water, then back again, eyeing it with trepidation.

too much water

"That's fine, that's fine! Except, hmm..." It does make things harder when there's a river between them and the end of the desert.

Ah, an idea. "What if I threw you across?"

Their reaction to the suggestion is not strictly obvious, but they stand a little straighter and their gaze snaps to her with unblinking fierceness. Perhaps it is not apparent, subdued as their expressions usually are, but their immediate response is one of muted shock.

True, they are perhaps not very heavy - small and lithe, wasted in most areas of their muscle structure, pocked with blood sores in others. But surely she cannot think to simply throw them like a rag doll?

high risk?

Hmm... Admittedly, it was a pretty long shot, even for her. Kyouko could probably clear it easy.

"It's not zero risk, but I think I could make it. Worst case scenario, you'd land in the shallow part on the far side, and just be able to wade to the shore. Beyond that, it's just a question of how well you can handle landing at that kind of speed..."

It is not the speed that concerns them. They are not fond of the water, to be certain. The water where they come from usually spelled death, or injury, or worse. They are far from eager to embark upon an experiment to see if the waters here are of the same persuasion.

Still. The alternative is stranding Yuka here, alone and potentially unprepared.

The Drifter holds up a finger - wait. They shuck off the pack strapped to their shoulders, winding carefully back before hurling it across the river in a high parabolic arc. It lands in a dusty tumble on the other side.

They turn to her next.

ok

They're ready.

Whoa, they're pretty strong, too, if they can throw their pack that far. The landing shouldn't be a problem.

"All right, then, with your permission..."

Yuka picks up the Drifter as comfortably as possible, and takes aim. She's had practice with throwing Kyouko at monsters before, but this person's bigger and balanced differently, so hopefully that won't cause any problems...

With a yell, she throws with all her strength, launching the Drifter into the air and - ideally - to the far side of the river.

It is, to be certain, uncomfortable. She handles them deftly, as though they are not disgusting, as though the tint of their skin does not unsettle her. It should. It ought to. It unsettles most people, with a handful of notable exceptions, and yet there is no indication of that. There is only -

The rush of air, similar to a dash but far less controlled, as they go sailing in an arc similar to their pack. They land in a tumble of dust and limbs bracing against the ground. The impact rouses a faint splash from the river, and they scramble away from it as though burned.

A cursory check of their vitals via their sprite - no permanent damage sustained.

Good.

They stick a thumb straight up in the air in a gesture they know means something generally positive, a little dusty and bedraggled, but otherwise unhurt.

Yuka exhales when they indicate success - looks like she's still got it. She gives a wave, then sets about crossing the river herself. She stops, though, before getting to the deeper water, the Drifter's safe traversal giving her a better idea.

Taking a few steps back, she stops out of habit to do a couple pre-sprint stretches. Then, she launches herself forward at full speed and jumps, hurtling even higher than the Drifter did when thrown. She lands still a bit short of dry land, and stumbles awkwardly when she lands, but it's better than getting soaked in this outfit.

"Sorry had to deal with that." It doesn't take a genius to tell that the Drifter isn't fond of water. "Do you know where we're going, or is this just another wilderness that's slightly more hospitable than the desert?"

Edited 2017-12-05 17:53 (UTC)

She is nothing if not adept and adaptable. They watch her clear the water under her own power with something like admiration, though it may be far from obvious, given their lack of apparent emotion at nearly any given time.

The other side is indeed rich with green, as though the wasteland preceding it were sliced away from this point on.

unknown
only traversed west region

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject