lifeaftr | June Intro: Let's Sea How Far We've Come

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June Intro: Let's Sea How Far We've Come

INTRO LOG: JUNE

Who: Everyone!
What: New souls arrive to the archipelago of LifeAftr as the island of Ziziphus begins to crumble
When: June 4th and onward
Where: Ziziphus and Ensō...and Monsun
Warnings: Mark as needed!

Ziziphus: At The Start Of The End Of The World
Since Bliss's destruction, the extensive root network they've threaded throughout every inch of the island of Ziziphus has begun to crumble. June 4th marks the beginning of the inevitable collapse of the island as it starts to sink into the sea...coincidentally coinciding with the arrival of LifeAftr's newest adventurers. Between the dead trees surrounding Bliss's empty husk, great cracks in the earth start to widen, the dead god's absent root system leaving vast gaps underground which simply cannot support the life above.

It almost sounds like thunder rupturing from the ground itself, wild tremors preceding each vicious boom until gaping chasms lay between venturing parties and the safety of the mana pool - only water waits below, for those unlucky enough to lose their footing.

And if the immense pull of mile wide chunks of landmass sinking beneath the waves isn't enough to suck you down, the heavy rain of debris from Ziziphus's rapidly destabilizing edges will certainly help. Want to avoid a watery grave? What you need to do is simple:

Escape.

Sorry, newbies. If you showed up on Ziziphus, you're in for a very athletic entrance to LifeAftr.

Monsun: Just Like Every Other Morning Before
Adventurers aren't the only creatures on Ziziphus attempting to outrun its collapse. Creatures great and small, from the largest spindlank to the smallest tigerlily will be heading south in an attempt to escape the worst of the quakes. Unlike offshore adventurers, however, these poor creatures don't have a mana pool waiting for them to escape through. Their extinction, it seems, is imminent.

Unless you have something to say about it.

Already exhausted from their attempts to get through to and then actively dispose of their fellow god, the Storyteller will break their traditional manner of communication to announce a potential solution to this problem with a single broadcast to the Stones of Far Speech in a strained, weary tone:

"The mana pools on Monsun are now open. If you are willing, save what you can."

True to their word, characters will discover that the island of Monsun will be accessible once more for a short period of time. From prey to predator, obstruction to catastrophe - multiple species of flora and fauna can still be preserved, should you choose to do so.

Be wary of the psychological effects of both sides of the island. Those who are new to our setting and wish to explore, the island of Monsun has a peculiar side effect to its stark divide: the eastern half is rich in resources, but brings out the very worst of you, while the western half is a tumultuous wasteland that accentuates your best qualities. More information on said island can be found on its entry on the Locations page, or its introductory info post.

Due to these efforts, the Storyteller will not be available for contact from the 4th to the 18th of June. Item Requests will also be unavailable at this time. They will, however, make a rather strained announcement to ensure all are aware that access to both Ziziphus and Monsun will cease on June 10th.

Ensō: I Wonder What It Means If It's Gone
The native fauna of Ziziphus aren't the only ones on the move, it seems. Those who wander the shores of Ensō will be delighted to witness the appearance of creatures akin to both turtles and dugongs drifting through the waters, gravitating around the island's eastern coast, rapidly gaining in numbers over the following days.

Kaleidoshells have been unlocked in the bestiary!

With spring close to ending in the archipelago, these peaceful creatures are looking to make good use of their natural nesting areas; hope you're open to sharing the beach for a little while. While a few braver individuals will make their way to the shores between C4 and D1 to begin digging nests, the vast majority won't be coming to shore quite yet.

They do, however, make a very fine sight around the waters of Ensō, especially in the evening. Luminescent, their rainbow patterns glow underwater, drifting mood lights for the increasingly warmer evening breeze.

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 )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[It's not funny, really. It's not, but Connor laughs anyway. It's bitter and helpless, because if only. If only that's what it was.]

I think I'm invincible because I can't fucking die. I keep trying and I'm still here. Still alive.

[Were he not on Monsun, he'd know that there's reasons why he shouldn't just give the fuck up. There's people who care about him. The dream on Ziziphus had shown him that if he'd just - he could be happy. He could, if he could just find the fucking light switch in his brain that would make him remember that life isn't just being imprisoned by your own goddamn brain.

Here, he can't think of a single reason to be alive. He just wants to stop existing, wants to be free of this hellish afterlife he doesn't even want.]

You could shoot me and at this point I'd probably thank you.

I'm not that person anymore.

[He snarls it, angrier than he means it, more direct than he means it, the words that he doesn't intend to spit out souring beneath his tongue because he remembers the way she didn't believe he could do it, and that was just enough shoot gasoline in through his finger and pull the trigger and put a bullet in her goddamn skull and it was so fucking unfitting it was no kind of end for her for South Dakota who had the heart of a helljumper and should have gone out with a grenade in both hands and a grin full of blood screaming at Insurrectionist stumpfucks to suck her cock when she pulled the pins and set them all on fire - ]

[He doesn't shoot civilians.]

[Just old teammates.]

[He's breathing heavy. Shakes his head, once, twice, but the fog doesn't clear.]

So you'll have to find some other killer to do it.

It wouldn't matter if you did. The Storyteller just brings us back when we die, like we're fucking Barbies that they can keep smashing together until we break. [Connor picks at the polish on his nails. They're plain black and more ragged than he usually lets them get here because he's been idly picking at them the entire time he's been ashore.] You - you need to go.

[He can't leave yet. He still has things to do, but he's also - he's used to this. He knows how to deal with the magnification of his worst qualities because that's what his own brain does to him on a daily basis.]

If you stay here, on this half of the island, it just gets worse.

What just gets worse?

[The promise of an answer of some kind is at least pretty fucking welcome, no matter how unsettling the kid's words are. Yeah, that's exactly the kind of thing he needs to hear - the fact that he can't die, that he has never been able to die, even when it would have most suited him. Walked into Freelancer command with three things that needed doing, and he failed in every single fucking one of them.]

[He should've burned in more ways than one, and now it turns out that he literally can't. Supposedly.]

Your worst self. [Connor taps his temple.] Everything you never wanted to become, everything you try to convince yourself you aren't - you need to go to the desert.

[Your worst self.]

[He already knows his worst self. Already lives it, when he has to. He scowls beneath the helmet, tipping his visor to track the edge of the water. Presumably he could just follow that, until he reaches the desert - it's buried in the sand.]

So you figured you'd take the risk anyway, huh?

The options were I want to highkey die for a few hours while this [He gestures to his fish racks.] finishes, or my fish goes bad and I don't eat for the next three days.

[He shrugs. If he thought about it for a few seconds, he'd remember to mention the monsters waiting on the other half of the island, but this is about as helpful as he can manage.]

My ship barely made it through the coral reef, I wasn't about to try and sail it to the other half of the island.

You sailed here.

[That's more along the lines of the information he was actually searching for, and he pretty much bumped into it by accident during an antagonizing conversation with a teenager.]

...why? [He's learned the function of the mana pools by now, so the fact that someone would ostensibly avoid their use isn't entirely clear from the outset.]

Monsun appeared while I was going somewhere else and I'd already hit the coral reef, so I decided to stop and take care of the fish, at least.

[SHRUG. Now that he's here, though, he's probably going to reset by heading over to the desert and then collect some stuff to toss onto his boat and take back to Ensō. Eventually.]

And it's not at any risk of actually sinking, or anything like that? Getting torn apart by earthquakes?

[Guess who just got off Ziziphus and is very not pleased about it.]

As far as I know, the gods of this island are still alive, so no. It'll disappear, eventually, but not for at least a month.

[A month is about right, isn't it? Sometimes more, but never less.]

The only island that doesn't disappear is Ensō. It's the Storyteller's domain.

[The...right. The central one. He's still parsing the texture of his dreams. Separating what happened from what didn't. The mental image is indistinct and inexact, but it's there: a rabbit, discussing at apparent length the way things work around here.]

[Think of Connecticut. Then don't.]

You've been here for a while. [It's not a question. More an observation, ventured aloud.] Long enough to, as you tell it, die.

Do you have any more actual questions?

[It's like pulling teeth to get information out of Connor on a good day and he's reaching the end of what he can safely handle. He's afraid Evan is going to show up again, afraid of looking crazy in front of someone he doesn't know at all.]

Because if you don't, I'd really rather you left me the fuck alone.

[His eyes narrow behind his visor as he studies the kid, sharp and assessing. He's armed, ostensibly, so he doesn't have to worry about him being taken off guard about whatever might be creeping about here. He seems, aside from being cranky, essentially fine.]

[The buzz of memory has already begun to germinate in his skull. Don't say goodbye, humming down the length of his spine and trying to pull up an old grief that doesn't even belong to him, wrenching it out by the roots.]

Guess not.

[Connor points toward the western half of Monsun.]

Desert. Look for an ugly tent, about halfway up the river.

[If it's not there quite yet, he has no doubt it will be soon. The blind guy would probably push his asshole boyfriend into a mana pool to get him back on Monsun - at least, that's definitely what Connor would do.]

And you’re telling me the people there are gonna be nicer?

[He doesn’t bother to pretend to be anything but skeptical. Even if...there might be merit to the kid’s claim, or at least to the notion that something in these woods doesn’t agree with human physiology. There’s a difference between standard levels of paranoia and being seized by the throat with memories that don’t belong to you, when you’re supposed to be long past that these days.]

[In theory, anyway.]

Edited 2018-06-05 22:24 (UTC)

There'll be a guy there with ugly hair that looks like he dyed purple over brown? Yeah, ask someone at the camp about what he's like off this island.

[I'd like to formally apologize to Nao for consistently throwing Adryn under the bus but in my defense, he's an asshole and he deserves it.]

[It's an instinct he doesn't grasp immediately, simply due to how long it's been for him - the describing of others based on physical appearance, rather than simply the look of their armor. Referring to traits such as hair or clothing hasn't occurred to him for years, now.]

[People here do it offhand. Meaning he might be one of the few people who wanders around in full armor out of instinct.]

So why's he here, if he's such an asshole?

My money is on his blind boyfriend "accidentally" pushing him into the mana pool. [Yes, he makes air quotes. Obviously.] They have some kind of weird Edward and Bella thing going on where the blind one thinks his dick can cure assholeism or something.

[Even if Twilight ostensibly exists in this future space universe on an undisclosed timeline, it's safe to say that Washington is the furthest removed from pop culture as it's possible to be. Fighting a war and then signing on with a secret government alternative combat research program doesn't allow you that much time to catch up on movies from a time when humanity wasn't as bent on exterminating itself as it is now.]

Are you always this charming?

Yeah, I'm always a fucking delight.

[He's is, actually, just like this to begin with except for in relation the, like, four people he actually likes on the island.]

Sounds like my kind of luck.

[He really should go, except he’s not in the habit of just leaving people who’ve made at least a nominal effort to help him. The fact that he’s literally nineteen might also have something to do with it.]

Are you honestly going to be okay out here? Or do I have to worry that you’re gonna start finding another use for that axe?

[Uh, wow. That came out more hostile than necessary.]

Oh my god, open up your fucking pack. You have to have a rocky-talkie in there.

[That's what he's decided stones of farspeech are called, just fyi. He pulls his own out of the pocket of his jacket and waves it around.]

If you leave me the fuck alone, I will give you permission to call me whenever you want to make sure I'm still alive.

[This is definitely not a terrible decision Connor will regret at some point.]

A - what?

[He seems to be saying that with increasing regularity these days. The visor makes it easier to mask the way his gaze drifts downward and back up again. He looks away only as long as he needs to before he extricates it - a multifaceted stone that he hadn't realized had any actual function besides being, as it happened, a fucking rock.]

You're telling me this thing isn't just a...it has a purpose?

[While he's at it, do you mind telling him whatever the fuck the confetti thing does?]

Do they not explain this shit? [He just assumed the Storyteller would explain their shitty communication system, but apparently that's just Too Much Faith.] This is our shitty version of cellphones, because it's the terrible dinosaur version that doesn't have texting.

[For that, you have to use the rock in front of the Storyteller's temple. As you do.]

You can call somebody in particular or broadcast to the entire island if you want. Congrats, now you've learned a thing and you have a reason to break out your party popper.

[People who have never seen one of those things in action and therefore don't know what they're capable of: Connor.]

June Intro: Let's Sea How Far We've Come

cw: oh here's the actual suicidal ideation

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