lifeaftr | May Intro: We're Going Down, Down

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May Intro: We're Going Down, Down

INTRO LOG: MAY

Who: Everyone!
What: New souls arrive to the archipelago of LifeAftr
When: May 4th and onward
Where: Ensō...and above
Warnings: Mark as needed!

Floating Islet: And Sugar, We're Going Down Swinging
While new arrivals may generally be expected at this time of the month, one factor that has continuously failed to maintain consistency is their point of arrival. And indeed, it appears that this month has once again exceeded even the Storyteller's expectations as to where arrivals may take their first steps on this world.

Those who were with us in February will most certainly remember the floating islands hovering far, far above the mainland. While they currently remain inaccessible, they are still steadily floating overhead, shifting appearance as if made of the clouds themselves. And so while waking up on top of the world may be a surprise, at the very least new arrivals will have a bird's eye view of Ensō to enjoy for a time...until they take notice of a rather sinking sensation.

In fact, that sensation would be the island itself, starting to sink out of the sky.

So that's nice.

On a crash course for the ground at F6, the Storyteller will eventually slow the island's progress to the ground below, though a rather profound impact is, simply put, inevitable. Characters with the ability of flight will find the island skimming low enough to reach on their own. Others may wish to utilize their resourcefulness to find an alternate means down.

Or, perhaps, you'll simply deal with whatever awaits you at the crash site.

F6 and Beyond: In An Earlier Round
Thankfully, the Storyteller's intervention will ensure that no one still on the not-so-floating island upon impact will escape with minor injuries at worst, the island itself crumbling to pieces and taking down more than a few thick trees. The pieces of the island will very quickly begin to blacken, crumbling underfoot as the floating island turns to dust. Anyone still aboard may wish to make a very quick departure.

The ripples of this impact, however, are far more significant than two pieces of land bumping up against one another.

Previously, visitors to the floating islands may have experienced some...oddities, during their time above the clouds. For the next few days, these oddities will spread across Ensō itself, leading to some rather awkward scenarios:

[ ♆ ] Some may find their weapons are... behaving oddly, though all are still functional. Weapons, in this instance, may also include fisticuffs, if the intent is to use your fists as a weapon.

[ ♆ ] Equally as irritating are those who find themselves coming down with a severe case of NPCitus: periods of time in which they find themselves incapable of saying more than one or two lines of the same, repetitive dialogue.

[ ♆ ] Equal parts nostalgic and irritating for some are the instances of lag (walking forwards, only to find oneself back where they started), Swimmer's Ear (incapable of movement unless swimming through the air), and clipping (suddenly stuck halfway through the nearest rock are all common, regrettable side-effects).

[ ♆ ] Other unfortunate side-effects may also transpire, as varied and wild as one's imagination.

Though many of these may be hindering or even dangerous in the right situations, they are, for the most part, passive. The Storyteller will assure anyone who asks that these oddities will disappear in the next few days.

You are free to create or utilize glitches you are particularly fond of, though keep in mind that any potential content warnings should be mentioned in your toplevel! You may peruse some of the past glitches here, or create your own along those lines! And a special thanks to our local Donn-mun, Jake (

venesection), for the first glitch on the list!

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

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 )

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Son of a -

[The iron taste of his own fucking insides is making it hard to focus on anything besides the fact that his guts are bubbling out through his mouth, frothing and copper. Who does he know that handles this shit in the way of healing magic? Who does he know that can reasonably fix this?]

[He hopes to god it does fix itself by the time they clear the area of impact, or he really is fucked.]

D'you know anyone who...heals...shit like that.

[Shion just holds him steady, at the question he frowns] Aster knows a cure spell... I... it won't fix everything. [He knows it is not powerful to do so, but it might take some of the pain away. He feels stupid for not having thought about it before]

She's the only one... I don't know anyone else who can heal magically... [Not here. And it is powerful magical healing they need.]

[Cure. As if anyone could - as if there’s anything in him that could be cured. He chokes back the urge to indulge some sickening, psychotic giggle - an impulse that he knows doesn’t belong to him, because how could it? He doesn’t smile, he doesn’t - ]

[He slides down the length of the tree he’s decided to prop himself up against, and immediately regrets taking this course of action when every muscle in his gut spools up in agonizing knots.]

Fuck - fuck! [No. No, god, he’s - ] My f-fucking meds - how’m I supposed to -

[How the hell is he supposed to take them when there’s a hole in his gut?]

Breathe [Okay breathing might be difficult, with Tim's lungs the state that they are but Shion crouches next to him and holds his shoulder.] Try and calm down [He feels cruel just saying it, knowing that if their places were switched he would be struggling to stay calm. But panic was not going to make this any better.

Sometimes the kind thing was not the right thing. Shion needs to get Tim moving, to try to get him out of where he is. What would Reno have done? What had he done the many times that he had to get Shion through a difficult task.] On your feet. [He is there, to be a support, to take Tim's weight and help him stand]

One problem at a time, we see if getting out of here helps. If not... then we will worry about your medication.

[Breathe.]

[The instinct to snarl a sharp retort is easy to quell - the effort, the taste of his own insides on his tongue, the swell of bile in his trachea, those kinda limit his capacity to remark on the situation at large - but his lungs have never been fond of him, his respiratory system fucked by biology and a chainsmoking habit he refuses to quit.]

[He's gonna keep going. He's gonna keep going, but his head's spinning and he's got nothing left to throw up but more of his stomach lining, and he's a little afraid that if he tips over one way or another he's gonna end up slopping the rest of the way out.]

I need - something - to hold me - in. [He paws feebly at his pack. One of the straps slips off his shoulder of its own accord and thumps dully to the floor.] Should be...old blanket.

[Blanket, Shion opened the pack and looked through it. The blanket was easy to find and Shion was just glad that this was something practical he could do to help.

He pulled it out and thought for a moment... how best to do this? If Tim were smaller, if Shion were stronger he would just wrap him completely and carry him. But that won't work.]

[The blanket's largely in tatters now, stripped to pieces over a period of months. Used to treat wounds inflicted by monkeys, used to clean crystals from people's arms, used to tie off injury after injury, the original function all but forgotten.]

[Stomach it, Tim Wright. Breathe through it. You're not dying. You've probably had worse.]

[Yank the shred of cloth around your middle and tie it off and try not to scream when every tiny movement pulls muscles mired in the puree of your own guts, when every motion feels sluggish, like air density has increased tenfold in the past hour. Feel the wet press of some...internal organ or another slopping in the basin of your abdomen and soaking the fabric within seconds.]

[Smell the rot, the rolling stench of blood and decay.]

[Set your jaw. Push away from the tree, nearly sink to your knees in the static surge of vertigo, the subsequent jolt that whites out your vision and leaves you briefly, blissfully numb.]

[Don't scream.]

[Don't scream when it slams back like a fucking wall and forces you forward two steps.]

[Shion was there, hands hovering to help once he figured out what Tim had in mind. Hands that were mostly steady, able to tie a blanket, able to steady him.

When Tim stumbles forwards Shion catches him, holds him, face set. Determination. They had to get out of here, hope it worked. He reached down to grab Tim's rucksack in one hand, the other arm still around Tim] Walk, keep going.

[He hates himself for forcing this on Tim, for not just letting him rest. But sometimes being kind is not the right thing to do. Sometimes to be truly kind you had to do things that were not the immidate right thing. It had taken Shion a long time to learn that.

How many times had Reno dragged him to his feet, yelled at him, forced him to lift weights until Shion thought his arms would fall off. Made him do things that Shion didn't even think he was capable off, all to make Shion stronger, to help him survive.

[I am, he feels like fucking snapping, and doesn't, because he would like to think he is not an asshole but knows that he is, knows there's no escaping it, but as bad at it is, he is done being an asshole to kids.]

[Or people who insist they're not kids, but look it.]

[It takes several steady, arduous minutes, a steady stream of "Fuuuuuuckfuckfuckfuck" issuing from behind gritted teeth, but he trips, stumbles, rolls, and - ]

[And the shock of the searing agony of his side abruptly going absent leaves him staring sightlessly at the sky.]

[The opened parts of him are sound and whole.]

[Gult fills him, he is being so cruel. So awful to force Tim to move, to walk, to endure through curses snarled through gritted teeth.

Then he is stumbling, Shion tries to keep hold but his grip isn't firm enough, he isn't strong enough and Tim is falling. He rushes to his side, to help him.

And stops short as he sees that Tim's body has knitted itself up, it is whole once more. His eyes fill with tears of relief that he blinks away quickly] Tim... [He reaches down with a hand, to help him to his feet if he wishes]

[It's a goddamn relief to such in lungfuls of air, unobstructed, and he has to roll onto his side to start coughing into the grass all over again. At least this time it's not blood and literally every bodily fluid he's spitting out - it's just phlegm and the kind of shit you start hacking up when you've got smoker's lungs.]

Jesus christ. [Trying not to hyperventilate. Trying not to lose what remains of his composure. Trying to breathe, and not pass out from the sheer chemical imbalance, adrenaline screaming in his veins without anywhere to go.]

T-told you. It's just...the islets.

Yeah... [He nods, just the islets. Islands fell from the sky and something about them caused Tim's body to break, his organs to fall out and him to be twisted and broken and wrong. Like that was normal. A normal part of life.

It was though. They probably weren't real. That was probably the answer but Shion had no real evidence, and Tim probably didn't want his theories. Not now, not while he was recovering.

He was still stood ready to help Tim back to his feet, he's patient though, Now that Tim is out of danger, whole once more there is no reason for Shion to rush him.]

[His shirt still clings stickily to his side; he might be healed over, but there's still no small amount of his...fluids splashed over across the grass, and no one's gonna be fixing that anytime soon.]

[As if he wasn't revolting enough by default.]

[Tim sits up. Scrubs at his chin with the back of a hand, swiping away the phlegm and vomit and stomach acid that dribbled down his front in the midst of him hacking up half a lung.]

Hopefully that won't...d'you know if anyone else was hit like that?

You're the only one I've seen [But he would not be surprised if there was more, he just hoped that they were found, that someone helped them. Once Tim was somewhere where he could rest he would go back and search, now that he knew that the solution was to get out of the radius of the crash site.]

I found someone stuck in a tree... in the trunk of a tree... but no one else like you.

[Tim hums his acknowledgment, now surveying the drying blood stuck in gummed flakes to his hands and wrists. He's gonna need to spend at least an hour cleaning this shit off him, and then off his clothes - it's not like he's got a whole lotta clothes.]

Maybe...stay away from the place until this clears up.

There might be other people hurt. [Tim though, Tim had to go and get cleaned up and then rest, because even if his body had fixed itself he was bound to be exhausted. Such things left marks emotionally, in your mind, even if they did not leave any physically.]

Do you want to go back to the islets to clean up, or somewhere else?

And if you go after them, you could end up the same way.

[Fingers combing through sweat-slick hair doesn't make him any less of a mess. There's no ironclad resistance against any of this - particularly when just about everyone here has a hero complex a mile wide. Shion is, as it stands, no exception.]

But I know how to reverse it. [Therefore it didn't matter much if he were hurt, because he could fix it. He could help other people, otherwise they might suffer unnecessarily. Like Tim had, he should have thought of this. Gotten him out sooner.]

I'm taking you home first though. [Or wherever Tim wanted to go. He wasn't leaving him until Tim was somewhere where he could wash and rest though.]

Yeah, that's not gonna happen.

[The words are flat. He squeezes his palms against his closed lids until the lights sputter out behind them, like fireworks. Feels like longer ago than it was - shooting sprays of smoke and powder into the sky under the cover of darkness, with bruises mantling his face and his arm in a sling.]

I can make my way from here.

I... [He was going to argue, to insist that he accompany Tim until he knew he was somewhere safe. But the tone made him pause, stop. Remember. Remember that Tim thought him a destructive force that destroyed worlds and cared nothing for those in them. Remember that he was awful and Tim didn't need to be dealing with him on top of everything else. He had gotten Tim out of the blast radius, he should go back in and find others. Tim was strong, stronger than Shion.]

Okay... [He nodded] Okay be careful... get help if you need it. [He wouldn't, Shion knows Tim well enough for that. He should probably ask Ceej to check up on him in the next few days, Ceej and Tim were friends and Ceej might have better luck with making sure Tim was looking after himself.]

[He's physically fine now that he's out of it, and the concept of trying to recover and smooth over Shion's own palpable anxieties is far from an appealing one. He needs a minute to just - not have to think about this, and clean himself off, and figure out how to be a human fucking being again.]

[The severity of the injury without any of the recovery time isn't doing him any favors, equilibrium-wise.]

Yeah. You, uh - you too.

Yeah... [He blinked at Tim a moment before turning back into the trees, to go back and see if there was anyone else who needed help.]

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May Intro: We're Going Down, Down

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