lifeaftr | September Intro: The Fields Are Painted Gold

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September Intro: The Fields Are Painted Gold

INTRO LOG: SEPTEMBER

Who: New arrivals, and you!
What: New souls arrive to the archipelago of LifeAftr
When: September 4th and onward
Where: Primarily Ensō, though Umui is also likely
Warnings: Mark as needed!

The Beach: And the Sun is Coming Through
When you arrive on the archipelago of LifeAftr, it is on the shores of Ensō - turquoise waves dragging through the pale sand of the beach. The breeze carries the tang of salt on the tropical sea spray. The sky overhead is a blue to rival the aquamarine surf. All told, the atmosphere is almost...pleasant. Not far from the cream-colored beach, the jungle beckons.

Above the treetops, however, something seems to be drifting overhead.

Bright spots of color drift on the wind like motes of dust. On further inspection, one might be able to discern what, exactly, is the cause of this lazily wafting, brilliantly colored confetti.

They are flower petals, being funneled up into the sky. Petals of every color and shape imaginable, thickening the air with golden currents of pollen, being lifted from one specific point. They are streaming freely from the Storyteller's Temple, as it happens, though this may not be clear to the newly arrived. The Temple has at last begun to shed the floral trappings that have ensnared it since the end of last month, and the breeze carries this out across the ocean skyline.

There's no mistaking it: it is very beautiful. Unless you have allergies.

Inland: The Trees Are Filled With Memories
This influx of flowers on the breeze, aside from being a potential source of unpleasant reminders to those who died choking on said flowers last month, have had additional consequences. The creatures rescued from Ziziphus flourish in such pollen-rich environments, which has led to a fresh budding of their young. Baby mosslings crawl like lumps of lichen over the trunks of trees, and the loud peeping of arboreali chicks can be heard in the branches above. Most of these creatures are not tameable, but some, such as flowccus, can be kept as livestock.

Just take care, when venturing into Ensō's verdant jungle. If Ziziphus's prey animals have begun to spring forth, then its predators have begun to reproduce as well. Young spindlanks and rootwyrms are not nearly as vicious as their adult counterparts, but you may have a bit of trouble getting rid of them without killing them - you did, after all, bring them here to preserve them.

Most notable, however, are the fresh litters of tigerlilies that have begun swarming all over Ensō.

Tigerlilies can be tamed and kept as pets, though despite their fearsome appearance, they not terribly vicious. They subsist in much the same way any other plant would; off of water and sunlight, primarily, though they might also graze like an herbivore from time to time.

If you're interested in keeping one for your own, bear LifeAftr's companion limit in mind - two per character, and no more. The process of trying to tame a tigerlily is not always successful, either. We recommend use of a d10, with the following guidelines:

Rolling a 10: Critical success! This tigerlily will follow you to the ends of the earth.
Rolling 6-9: Taming and training this tigerlily will be like educating a stubborn housecat, but will be nonetheless successful.
Rolling 2-5: Failure. You get sprayed with soporific pollen, which will affect you for several hours.
Rolling a 1: Critical failure. Not only do you get sprayed with soporific pollen, but the tigerlily in question decides that you're their new cat toy. Tigerlilies are not carnivorous, but their teeth and fangs are still very sharp, and not highly pleasant to contend with.

Bear in mind that these are only guidelines; you are free to predetermine successes or failures as you'd like, presuming your character can sustain the companion! Our discord channel has a room for dice-rolls, if that's your speed.

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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I wish you were a dream!

[Guzma shouts, though with the way his muscles are loosening with the concoction pulsing through his veins, it sounds more akin to a drunken groan than anything. He can taste the blood in his mouth from where he bit his cheek, and spits messily into the grass and tries to kicks Newt away from him. Again, it's barely more than a love tap, and the effort of just that is...tiring.

Breathing heavily, Guzma rolls onto his back and feels his lids droop. You know what? Maybe this is a dream. Maybe this stupid shitheel isn't really here and this is just a bad memory of the past mixed together with his horrible experiences last month. It wouldn't be the first time the past has come back to bite him in his dreams. It's par for the course with Guzma, actually. So maybe...if he shuts his eyes...he'll wake up back in bed and just face the day like always.

It'll be fine. Yeah.]

[good thing you're falling asleep, Guzma, because Newt is pretty much already there also. Right behind you. Or in front of you. In fact, he might already be asleep. If they both end up sleeping here, Newt might up attached to his arm like a limpet, snoring and drooling on his bicep. Enjoy that when you wake up, dude.]

[NOT TODAY, FUCKO.

Because the moment the two men are out, Golisopod ambles over and circles them curiously. He's more concerned for his trainer, grumbling and prodding Guzma with his long claws gently, nudging different parts of him with soft grunts and noises to try and rouse him, but Guzma continues to peacefully snore and brush his best bro off.

Looking between the two males spooning, Golisopod does what any good insect does. He drags the two men under one of his large arms each and carries their carcasses back toward civilization. Which, in this instance, is home. He only manages the Storyteller's temple - where the mana pool is - before he needs to take a break, dropping the two assholes in the dirst and flexing his tired arms.

You punks are heavy. >:\]

[welp, no snuggles for you then. But Newt defo does not wake up the whole time he's carried back, completely out.

Until he's dropped into the stone floor, however. That's enough to jostle his ribs, and that pain is enough to woozily wake him. He groans, rolling to the side and onto his back, clutching at his ribs.] Ow...ow, shit that hurts.

[he's not going to try and sit up yet, but he is cracking an eye open to stare at the stone ceiling] ....where am I......?

[Guzma isn't usually a steady sleeper - he's grown up not to be - but with a potent drug in his system, the winding road through dreamland is unmarred even for him. It's not until a good smack of stone jostles him awake as Golisopod lets his body hit the floor. His eyes snap open, muscles tense and coiled to retaliate against anything, anyone close to or touching him, his breathing hard and ragged.

Hah...he hasn't woken up like that in a while.

Breathing out, Guzma rolls over onto his back and rubs is face, squeezing his eyes shut from the growing headache from where he hit the stone. It'll go away, he has enough tenacity to make a cockroach jealous, but wow does it still hurt. Not enough to hinder gathering his bearings though, because this sure wasn't where he was a little while ago.]

Temple...probably. Golisopod must'a dragged our rear ends here. [To which he huge insect gives an affirming rumble.]

[Newt blinks once, processing that, slowly...before he jolts upright. Which turns out to be a mistake as it jostles his ribs.] Ow, ow, shit, fuck!

[he hisses, clutching at his side again...but then turns his face towards the large insect nearby. And stares. And stares some more.]

...holy shit that's a pokemon. [his eyes are round and wide behind his glasses as he just...looks at Golisopod, taking them in.]

[Guzma isn' as careless as Newt is. He exhales slowly and lays on the ground a while longer, shifting slowly to sit up. It still makes his head ache but not nearly as bad as i could have been with a sudden movement. He hisses, massaging his temple slowly with one eye shut, snorting at the comment. God...really?]

...We're doing this again? Tch, yes it's a Pokemon. N' if you poke n' prod 'im like some kinda zoo animal, I will have 'im bite your head off like the worst monster movie film y'all ever did imagine.

[somehow, someway, Newt manages to tear his eyes away from Golisopod long enough to look at Guzma, his eyes narrowing slightly]

I'm not gonna poke and prod him! [r u sure about that Newt] It's just kinda surprising to see a pokemon in real life, dude!

[The look Guzma gives Newt is extremely cynical - he doesn't believe those words for a goddamn second, sir, and he's extremely close to recalling his Pokemon back to its ball to keep it safe from this goddamn weirdo.

...Whose words do not better at improving Guzma's opinion of him.]

Congratulations, you're now a Pokemon Master. [He sneers, lifting his chin up.] Dunno why you're getting your boxers in a twist, homeboy, you've seen him before. Didn't like you back then, neither.

[Newt's mouth twists into a scowl at that--though a moment later, comprehension dawns, and he wrinkles his nose] Oh,are you one of the people that knew me--er, "other me" [yes he is super doing the finger quotes] from before?

[...Excuse me, what?

Guzma stares at Newt for a deadass minute, staring him up and down with confusion before he blinks and takes a step back, as if the guy's going to start cloning himself standing up or something.]

Mother of Mew, there's more'n one of you?! That's one too many as is, yo!

[Okay yep the scowl's back now.] Dude--I didn't know about it either until I got here! But apparently there was another me here!

[he huffs, folding his arms over his chest defensively] I mean it only means the whole multiverse theory is true. So there's probably another version of you out there also.

Eugh. For everyone's sake, I seriously hope not.

[Guzma wrinkles his nose at the thought. Much like Newt, one of him is already terrible to have, the world - or worlds, in this case - doesn't need anymore. But, all things considered, it's probably true. At the very least, with all the experiences he's gleaned, and the people he's met...he can't pretend other worlds out there don't exist. It's still odd to think about, sure, but not as fantastical.

He grunts, popping a few cricks in his neck and back, then approaches his Pokeon to make sure it didn't get attacked or hurt while he was unconscious. No damage...good. That thing must've peaced out when Golisopod appeared. PLants don't usually like bugs, after all.]

So, which version are you, huh? The jerkoff that treats my partners like they some sort of science experiment y'all can poke at and dissect because they're supposedly not real? Like an accessory? Collectibles? Or maybe I got lucky and got one'a you that don't wanna put 'em in a glass case forever to look at when it suits your fancy. [He grinds his teeth a bit at the last sentence, remembering something, someone, very unpleasant...who did just that.]

What the--Dude! I would not dissect a pokemon! What is wrong with you?! [yep Newt sure is looking at Guzma like he's gone off the rails. Several of them.] Like, they're super not real in my universe, but that doesn't mean I'd do... any of that?! Put them in a glass case?! They're, like...living creatures! [because lbr, Newt would never do any of those things to real animals, much less Pokemon which show way more sentience than even normal pets in his own universe]

What kinda sicko are you?

[Not wrong, actually. Guzma is definitely not...entirely on the rails, or hanging on by the thinnest threads possible. He's uh...seen and experienced Some Shit over the course of his life, and he's become a bit bitter, jaded, and very cynical. As seen by his callous retort.]

The kind of sicko that knows diddly-dang well that sorta Mudsdale crap happens, my dude. Look up the Aether Foundation one'a these days and tell 'em Guzma has a nice li'l message for 'em. [And he hold up not one,but two middle fingers. Incredible.] Them garbage scientists and their sea-hag president are trash what do real nasty things to people n' Pokemon.

Don't lie, homeboy, y'all thought of making a Pokemon, yeah? Science, right? Genetics. Easy shit your big, smart, nerdy brain can come up with, yeah? Take a little from column a, some from column b, and smack 'em together! Boom - your own real life Pokemon! Something no one else's got but you. Something to show off 'cuz you're soooo smart. Cuz you can.

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September Intro: The Fields Are Painted Gold

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