January Aftermath: What Would It Take

[lifeaftr_mods]

JANUARY AFTERMATH: WHAT WOULD IT TAKE

Who: Everyone!
What: The sun is reborn; time to recover
When: January 28th and beyond
Where: Everywhere! Ensō, Monsun, Chol, and the Islets
Warnings: Please mark any additional warnings as needed!

Quiet Like The Snow


Come the sunrise on the 28th, the sun will launch itself into the air with a victorious shriek, its wings trailing plumes of fire behind it. The phoenix takes flight, reborn from the ashes. Though not all the shadowy beings have gone from the world, the reappearance of the sun is enough to make them slink off into the shadows- a fight for another day...or another evening.

Now, it's time for the hardest part. Now, it’s time to clean up.

Chol

The grounds of Chol have reshaped seemingly overnight- as the morning light filters down across the land, characters will find most of the land has been blackened and charred, with many fires still raging inland. The Jormun will assist anyone who hasn’t yet to the western coast of the island; where not nearly as much of the phoenix’s impact has been felt, and a safe corridor of passage to the mana pool resides.

The shores of Chol are littered with corpses, both shadowy and scaled, along with an even smattering of crumpled paper and splotched inkstains. Despite the triumph of the fight, it did not come without its costs. The Jormun gather their dead and prepare to mourn them quietly. Those who perished in the fight will not see the sunrise from this unique perspective, watching the murk of the night tint to soft, milky yellow and pink, and then to a glorious new day.

Munin will greet the survivors with a mixture of solemnity and relief, thanking them profusely for their help. There is not much more that her people can offer you, at this point - they must grieve their dead, and she must return to the sea to prove that she has cemented her worth as a leader in the eyes of the other Jormun - but that does not mean that your stories will part forever.

Ensō and Monsun

Ensō too, has seen its far share of battle. The full scale of just how much the Storyteller had kept at bay around the temple is revealed through the copious piles of shadowed corpses, several wane Jormun already at work on removing them. They assure anyone who seeks to assist that below the ocean, there is effective manners of disposal; such as large, active volcanoes to demolish the flesh before any untoward magics can give them new life.

Heat will slowly begin to return to the island, with slow coming to a halt and ice beginning to thaw. Whilst rugging up is still a requirement, characters will be capable of making their way back to the mostly unscathed islets to rebuild their own lives, or wherever else they may call home.

A notable change to Ensō, however, is as easy to find as looking up. Literally. Several floating land masses can now be seen high above the island itself- too far for anything distinguishable to be made out and too far for those capable of flight to reach. Those who watch these masses may be interested in how, over the course of a day, these strange masses seem to change shape entirely- almost as if they were simply a very unique cloud coverage that seemed ready to become a permanent fixture overhead.
Much like Ensō, Monsun sees little wear, past the additions of many felled creatures. Again, a party of Jormun are slowly navigating their way about the island-- though if they get to the corpses before Monsun’s native meat eaters do is anyone’s guess. In the stillness of the coming days, the usual monster attacks will seemingly dwindle to nothing-- even a god of Balance seems to understand the need for recuperation.

Additionally....
Though the Storyteller is once again nowhere to be found, exhausted adventurers will find three MREs in their packs, for anyone who could use a day off finding and preparing food. Currently, it's the best they can offer- though the Jormun promise that they will have their own spread to share after finishing collecting their dead.

---

Event Specifics

[ ♆ ] The 30th will see the return of any who may have died throughout the duration of the event. All revived characters will awaken at the Storyteller’s temple; remember, if your character has died, let us know here!

[ ♆ ] Item trades with the Jormun can be found on the OOC plotting post here! The number of Jormun available will dwindle through the following weeks, leaving entirely on the 10th of February. Even if you were only recently accepted, you are free to participate!

LOGS ● OOC ● STORIES ● MAIN NAVIGATION

( CODED BY BOOTYCALL )

Comments

[scourgingstars]

Better--exhausted, but at least that will pass sooner or later.

[At least he wasn't actively hiding in shadows and complaining in arcane tongues under his breath. Or dunking on Asch's stupid clothes.]

What about you? Are you hurt?

[bloodyashes]

[Dunk on them all you like, the Storyteller picked them, not him. This is a boy who has clearly never worn jeans before.]

Nothing more than bruises that are already mostly healed.

[In short, nothing notable, as far as he's concerned.]

Starting to get really damn tired of sleeping on the ground, though.

[scourgingstars]

I don't remember it being nearly so terrible.

[at least you can sleep, asch]

Are you not accustomed to it?

[bloodyashes]

Not for this long. A week or two travelling, sure. Not over a month.

[There's possibly some discrepancy in the calendar there compared to what Ardyn's expecting.]

Airship cots at least have mattresses.

[scourgingstars]

Wait...what? How long has it been?

[Ardyn frowned, looking thoughtful. He didn't have the best grasp of time himself, but that didn't sound right.]

[bloodyashes]

...A month and some weeks?

[Confused blinking.]

Almost a month and a half, but definitely not less than ten weeks.

[scourgingstars]

...Asch, dear, I admit I am not a good judge of measuring time, but I am almost certain that isn't right.

[bloodyashes]

No, it's definitely right. I haven't tracked the days, but I know I left Auldrant at the end of Sylph-redecan, and I don't think it's been long enough for us to be far into Lorelei-decan yet...

[scourgingstars]

...Whhhhat.

[bloodyashes]

What?

[Beat.]

... We have different calendars, don't we.

[scourgingstars]

...

[SIGH]

I've no idea why this hasn't come up before. Why would every imaginable universe have the same calendar?

[bloodyashes]

It'd be weirder if they did, I guess.

[Bad news for when he finds out that damn near every other world shares Ardyn's calendar.]

Auldrant's year is 756 days divided into thirteen months, for the record. We're maybe a week into the thirteenth from my standpoint.

[scourgingstars]

...Not even close. Ours is 365 days into twelve months, but don't ask me of all people which one we're in. February, maybe; this seems like late winter.

[Time was hard to measure when one lived for so goddamn much of it.]

The current calendar of Eos is split into two--the Ancient Era which spanned the creation of the world and fall of Solheim, and the Modern Era which began with the proper establishment of a monarchy and the ruins of Solheim became the four nations of Lucis, Niflheim, Tenebrae, and Accordo.

It was...hm, M.E. 766, I think? Somewhere around there, I'm not entirely sure.

[bloodyashes]

...Your year is short.

[Yeah that's his immediate takeaway because what the hell, that's less than half an Auldrant year?

Which logically means that by his calendar, Ardyn is under a thousand years old, really.]

I haven't bothered corresponding the date here to one I would know, I've just been counting since I arrived. It's still ND 2018 as far as I'm concerned.

[Pause.]

I turn eighteen on the 48th.

[scourgingstars]

I'd make a joke about altering the planetary rotation to change the day-night cycle, but you've no idea the level of poor taste that would be in.

[ardyn for god's sake]

...Shame we can't pull together a proper celebration with such limited resources.

[bloodyashes]

I've had enough of altered day/night cycles for a while, thanks. Somehow I managed to shift my sleep cycle to the late afternoon instead of the night.

[Which is presumably why he's here with Ardyn in the darkest part of the tent. A good place to catch some zzzs.]

...Any kind of celebration at all would be more than I've gotten since I turned ten.

[scourgingstars]

Well, at least you're sleeping.

[SHRUG]

If nothing else, I can at least wish you a happy birthday ahead of time.

[bloodyashes]

[Don't talk to him about sleep he's going to - yeah that's a yawn.]

I'll save the Happy New Years until a little closer to the date.

[He reaches forward just long enough to grab one of the floor pillows to facilitate leaning.]

...I was so damn close.

[scourgingstars]

...What do you mean?

[he said, having a pretty damn good idea what]

[bloodyashes]

ND 2018. And destroy himself and the city.

[How else can he explain, except in reference to the blade that hung at his throat for - no, four thousand years, by Ardyn's measure?]

I almost beat it.

[scourgingstars]

Not to go into a matter of semantics, but is the fact that you're here not actually beating it in a sense?

[bloodyashes]

I'm still dead, technically.

[Like he won't go into matters of semantics at a drop of a hat.]

[scourgingstars]

And so am I in the strictest sense of the term, yet here we both are.

[bloodyashes]

You're significantly closer to it on a daily basis.

[Just going to casually prod your undead corpseflesh like it's not even a big deal?]

It doesn't count.

[scourgingstars]

Of course it counts.

[Ardyn sighed, casually shoving Asch's hand away.]

...I was about to die before this miserable place happened.