January Intro: I Know the Winter's Getting Colder

[lifeaftr_mods]

INTRO LOG: JANUARY

Who: Everyone!
What: New souls arrive to the archipelago of LifeAftr
When: January 5th and onward
Where: Chol and surrounding waters
Warnings: Mark as needed!

The Overview: New Lands
New arrivals will not be waking in the typical hub of activity; instead, they will find themselves coming to on the small island of Chol. While the island's fringes are little more than an unforgiving spread of craggy, canyon-like rock and coastal cliffs, the island dips down to form a fertile divot of edenic woodland in its center. The people living there will even be helpful and polite to you, should you inquire after them.

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!

Icebreaker: This is the Winter of Our Youth
Unless you're someone with a fondness for the cold, you'll undoubtedly be waking with more than a slight chill in your bones. The appearance of the island of Chol has signaled a coming event of great import in LifeAftr, and unfortunately, the signs of that event's approach have already been set in motion. The temperature has begun to drop as the sun's rays begin to die, faster and faster, leading to an impressive cold snap in the ocean waters - particularly those surrounding Chol.

It is for that reason that you won't be waking on Chol, per se. Instead, you'll be waking on a thick crust of ice that's mantled itself over the ocean waters, freezing solid enough to bear your weight...for the most part. The ice won't hold forever; it isn't meant to. If you happen to be particularly vivacious in your waking, or especially active in general, thick cracks will start to spiderweb out from underneath those impacts with low, warning chunks and wrenches of fracturing ice. Better hurry to land soon, unless you care to take a little dip into those freezing cold ocean waters.

Mainland: When We Pick Over the Past
Should you make it to the land of Chol, braving the iced-over waters surrounding its craggy shores, you'll encounter something at least as startling - the people who have elected to set up a rudimentary encampment upon its lands. While a bit on the scalier side, the Jormun are nonetheless allied to you land-dwellers, and will welcome you to the island. Most will be preoccupied with preparations for an approaching siege, but many will comment idly that the cold is a sign of the coming battle. Some may point you to their leader, known to most as Munin, but others will venture hospitality based on the actions of those land-dwellers that came before you, who were successful in allying themselves to this sea-dwelling people.

Those who might have braved the cold a little too fiercely will quickly be offered some rather rough blankets - perhaps more on par with burlap sacks in terms of texture - as well as a hot brew that the Jormun call brrkshavak. Heated to a boil just prior to being served, the drink will be more than adequate in warming your weary bones, though it bodes mentioning that it is both scalding hot and made with a fleshy kind of undersea herb that is akin to crushed chili pepper in taste.

It'll warm you up, all right.

---

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!

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LOGS ● OOC ● STORIES ● MAIN NAVIGATION

( CODED BY BOOTYCALL )

Comments

[pallidscops]

[ wh-wh-wh--

The ice skids, and little snowflakes fly into the air. He'd seen pictures of snow, and been cold before...but nothing this heavy. The mysterious figure in front of them is cloaked in red, and looks...

...kind of like a ninja. He'd read about them in books. They point to the shore, and Otus follows their finger to their destination, looking slightly apprehensive about the whole gosh darn thing. Like...who are you?? Why are you so cool?? Who gave you permission?? They seem to know what they're doing, though. Otus flaps his cloak into wings and lifts himself up off the stressed out ice. It's chilly. There is a chill. But it's better than...well, whatever alternative waits.

He waits for the Drifter to move first-- just in case the ninja needs help moving!! Don't leave people behind. That's how people get hurt. ]

[hyperlit]

[The owl-creature can fly. He can fly. He is like the birds of the Northern region, with the way he lifts easily from the frosted-over waters, and the Drifter's dark eyes glint briefly in alarm. But he does not lunge at them with a predatory shriek, with glittering, hooked talons and parted beak, and so...]

[And so, he is not very much like the birds of the North at all.]

[They start to move hastily back, stepping around the faint dimples and spiderwebbed fragilities in the ice. Their sprite chimes softly behind them, inputting a line of text into the air:]

make it to shore?

[pallidscops]

[ the soft chime reaches his eyes and he follows the sound toward a blinking, pretty HUD. He'd seen something like it before. The text that flies across it is...curious? And quite honestly, a little touching.

He soars a little faster to keep up with the Drifter, never going faster than the other. Watching his movements. He's so fast... ]

[hyperlit]

[They are fast, make no mistake. And with confirmation that the owl can keep up, the Drifter takes off at a dead sprint, streaking out across the ice. Their companion keeps easy pace at their shoulder, but they do continuously check back with the darting of a glance in the owl's direction, to ensure he is not getting fatigued, or cold...]

[It can be so dangerous, to start with.]

[pallidscops]

[ oh, cold? Absolutely. It's difficult to balance the cloak's wing span with actually keeping his arms covered, and Otus looks like he could be struggling in the air, but crashing to the weak ground would definitely be a problem also.

Just need to make it to shore, and then!! And then bundling up in his cloak will be a thing that happens!!

The backpack with his name on it is carried beneath him, hovering over the ice in mid flight. S-someone might want this back, after all, if it isn't meant for him. ]

[hyperlit]

[They once again skid to a halt once they reach the shore, darting a look skyward to keep track of their newest...acquisition? The owl is certainly capable, make no mistake, given the way he's hauling his knapsack along, carrying that burden through the air, but he does look as though he may be flagging.]

[The Drifter lifts one hand and waves. Here, over here - solid ground awaits.]

[pallidscops]

[ Otus plops the bag down on the ground and lands next to it, wings embracing his poor, cold arms and upper body tightly. Wh-why's it so cold? He looks around the area. It's...hard to imagine anything other than a snowy landscape. His eyes look up into the sky. No islands...not even the embers of a stray rock with a torch on it. There's no rubble on the ground from Advent. No one is screaming in misery-- no one is blaming him for anything. No one is blaming him, and yet...he feels very responsible...and lost. Very, very lost. Strange, also, that he should have no injuries from falling that high...and even stranger is this quiet and kind stranger that came to make sure he's okay.

His eyes catch the bag, with his name on the top. With a point toward the offending item, Otus looks up at Drifter inquisitively??? What this? ]

[hyperlit]

[With time to address the issue as it lays out before them, the Drifter bobs their head once in preparation for the sprite that comes whizzing about their shoulder, protecting a line of faint, blocky text across a soft pink HUD. It can be startling to witness, the first time, but the Drifter offers no time to process it.]

all arrive with one
you are otus
?

[pallidscops]

[ startling is certainly one way to put it-- Otus' eyes get as wide as saucers when it appears out of nowhere!! What in the world!!! The text flashes across it, and Otus takes a small step closer, hands tucked into his cloak.

You are Otus?

He nods, and black eyes fall back down on his bag, fingers touching the top of it softly. If it is his then...he's glad that he saved it! There's a lot to take in, and he has so many questions. Where's Advent? Where'd Geddy and Alphonse? But maybe, at the moment, the most pressing is...who are you?

He leans down on the frosted sand beneath them and writes.

Y o u? ]

[hyperlit]

[Another. Another like them - who cannot speak, for whatever reason. Perhaps, like the Knight, they were not created with the means to speak aloud. Or perhaps, like the Drifter, they lost their voice over time. Either way, the simultaneous instance of understanding and melancholy that warm-chills their fragile heart is starting to grow to be a familiar sensation.]

[Just a drifter.]

[That is their formal, typical response. They lay a gloved hand across their chest, instead.]

drifter

[pallidscops]

[ ...drifter. Otus stands up straight, shaking off some of his reservations. This new person is fast-- and could have certainly left by now if they wanted to. He quickly bows his head just enough to show some form of respect, with no way of vocalizing his gratitude of meeting the other.

It's...nice. Feels like trust. Feels like the sun, kissing your face after a long night of sleep. Speaking of which, the sun is looking quite dreary...Otus exhales and his breath fogs up in front of him. It's cold.

With his head turned slightly toward the sun, he points. A sad sun. What is happening? ]

[hyperlit]

[He does not look the way drifter's from their world do - he does not wander with a way of veiling his features out of ritualistic anonymity, though the cloak he wears is a peculiar thing.]

[The owl points to the sun. His breath frosts in white puffs of cloud. It isn't difficult to guess at the question he cannot vocalize.]

sun is dying
will be reborn

but cold

[pallidscops]

[ .......dying???

Otus makes a concerned face. That's not normal. Suns don't just-- just die. They can't. Or at least, they couldn't where he's from. Not in any of his teachings-- any books, scrolls, or word of mouth had he ever heard something so strange. There's no denying that the sun looks softer than normal, though. Quieter, almost. His hands find eachother and he fumbles with his fingers nervously. Why is this happening...?

It's definitely cold, though...a gust of wind makes his eyes shut tightly. ]

[hyperlit]

[He's cold.]

[That much is apparent. He's cold and confused and alone, and this surely is not helping. They lack anything but the cloak about their shoulders, and that is far from ideal in the way of deflecting the cold.]

[They must cast about in search for one of the blankets the Jormun have at their disposal; rough as they are, they are thick and heavy enough to protect from the winter chill, and the Drifter retrieves one to unfold it somewhat clumsily, and - drop it across Otus's shoulders in a gesture meant to be kind and helpful, the way the Guardian would employ such an action, but probably comes across as awkward.]