November Intro: We Used to Think Our Words Were Gold

[lifeaftr_mods]

INTRO LOG: NOVEMBER

Who: New arrivals, and you!
What: New souls arrive to the archipelago of LifeAftr
When: November 4th and onward
Where: Ensō
Warnings: Mark as needed!

Temple: We Built These Walls So We Could Find
With the Storyteller once again regaining control of Mu in the final week of October, the disturbing bleedover of characters' pasts and futures has come to an end; but, as it would seem, some alternative effects have merely been delayed.

The Chamber of Glyphs, which had held steadfast as a link between the physical and metaphysical worlds during last month's event, has finally bent beneath the strain - and, perhaps, due to the Storyteller's increased exertion over both planes. The Chamber, which typically represents a myriad of drawings intended to tell stories, has abruptly become much less tell...and much more show.

Newcomers will open their eyes to a high stone ceiling, punched through with beams of sunlight. Massive stone walls span them on four sides, upon which are endless murals drawn in chalk, depicting island life: a village gathered around a table, feasting; hunters with their bows drawn, chasing down a wild boar; warriors with swords slashing at enormous vipers. Any imaginable tale of wilderness survival adorns the walls, pitching and shifting, almost seeming to animate...

Right out of the walls, in fact.

Indeed, the drawings in the Chamber have come to life, bringing the chaos of their story into the room itself. And they seem quite determined to make your character a part of it. Though startingly lifelike, their features always seem to be fuzzy and indistinct, and their voices a bit too warbled to make out. Whether it be the taste of bitter ink in your mouth when you bite into an apple, or the feel of chalk dust on your fingers as you grip a weapon handed to you, there is a persistent sense of immaterialism in these ghost-drawings and the world they fill the gray corners of the Chamber with. Regardless, they all very much believe that you are a part of the feast, or the hunt, or the battle, or whatever other tale has leapt from the walls. And you are expected to participate.

Of course, any theoretical danger probably isn't real...but do you really want to risk it? After all, it isn't only mundane tales of the faceless that reside here - your fellow survivors, too, have added their much wilder stories to this world. Surely the Chamber would recognize them if they were to be nearby...and remember their contributions.

And Beyond: A Future We Will Never Write
Of course, there are other aberrations throughout the temple to contend with. For newcomers, the major issue appears to be the lack of a front door, while those who have come to visit the temple for any number of reasons will find the front door isn't quite leading to where it should; nor does it seem keen on sticking in one place. The only room within the building that any character will be able to reach is the Chamber of Glyphs itself - but actually escaping the temple may seem a difficult task. The temple's interior does not help in keeping one's bearings. Though pillars, empty shelves, and even the outline of windows can still be seen throughout the imagery, they appear of have been superimposed into much wider areas of space - the arid, vast wastelands of Monsun. The ash-powdered lands of Chol, still scorched black from the rebirthing of the sun. Even Ai'tuoh, though its streets seem devoid of any life.

Though the eye may believe they have returned to the entirety of the island, other senses may confound and befuddle. Each step is still taken on level stone, the only sounds those of your shoes upon the floor - and the voices of anyone stuck inside with you. Venturing about will prove that these illusions do have a limitation, ending a few miles at most, though the unlucky could easily find themselves exiting one door...and entering a new island room. Exploration could potentially continue on indefinitely - or at the least, until the Storyteller wrangles their temple back into order early the next morning.

Be careful, adventurers. Though cycling through islands you have seen before - the very subject of your stories - there is a chance that those who go too deep will come across a land that is very familiar to some. Twisted remnants of something terrible, heavy with the scent of ash and decay. Bare, blackened landscapes that look as though they may have been blown to fragments. Portions of some foreign and unknown world a powerful strain of dark, volcanic corruption.

If you should find this, it is best to leave as soon as possible. Though the ground may still be safe to stand on, the same cannot be said about the breathability of the air.

---

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 )

Comments

mira | ota

[antepone]

i never really feel a thing
[ She'd come to the temple to check on things; she knows whatever wrongness not that long ago had started here. It's only natural she'd worry, right? Of course. So when she steps into the temple, she's startled by how everything just... is. She's rooted in place, for a few moments, long enough for someone to press a bow and arrows into her hand. ]

Oh-- wait, I can't--

[ But her protests fall on deaf ears, and Mira looks more than a little panicked. ]

when your stitch comes loose
[ The front door is gone.

She's never had much of an issue with enclosed spaces, but there's something absolutely terrifying, paralyzing, about not being able to leave. There's an itch under her skin she can't seem to get rid of, and it's a little harder to breathe anyway other than shallowly. Still, she needs to find a way out--and anyone she comes across is greeted with a sudden whoosh of relieved breath. ]

I'm guessing you... haven't found a way out? ... That's a stupid question.

slams into you

[thegoofball]

[He's been lost for what feels like ages. Endless circles, walking around and around. He's not panicked, because he recognizes the knapsack with his name carefully embroidered on it. He vaguely recognized the room he woke up in.

He still has wisps of that dream out in the cold of Keith, Ann, and-]

Mira!

[He's glad to see her. Seeing her puts a bounce in his step, as he closes the distance between them.]

I- no, I haven't been able to find anything at all.

[uptightness]

There's little point in protesting.

[Carolina is, surprise, out of armor today, although she is currently holding a spear in her hand. She does look fairly at ease with it, as she is trained with weapons. It's just not the first one she would go for if given a choice.]

They won't take them back.

feeeeeelling thing

[everylittlesecret]

It's not hard.

[Hi there. Nari herself has a bow and arrow, testing it by drawing the string back and forth a few times.]

Sturdier than I thought it'd be. It's not my preference when it comes to material, but usable.

lance | ota

[thegoofball]

a;

[When Lance wakes up, it's to a room he kind of recognizes. He never had much use for the Chamber of Glyphs during his months on the islands, but he's seen it once or twice.

The fuzzy, odd surreality is new, though. Lance has a hard time denying the people when they offer him food, and he winds up drawn into a feast. He'd be enjoying it, strange blurriness to the people aside, if it wasn't for the fact everything tastes like he was chewing on a pen.]

No, yeah, this is great! [He feels the need to spit out the...water? wine? straight up ink? He just swallowed.]

Hey, you should have some of this!

[And, yes, he's calling out to you.]

b;

[He's been walking for what feels like ages. Just going through a circle, through places he recognizes and things he definitely doesn't. A strange city, strange wastelands. Places that were probably important at some point, but Lance just doesn't know.

He keeps moving, though. Whatever's happening will eventually stop. He thinks. He hopes.]

Are you serious? Ugh!

[And then he passes by a bookshelf he swears he's passed by at least five times and all the hope slowly drifts away.]

b

[galrarm]

[ As for Shiro, he doesn't really recognize any of this. It's disorienting, and his primary thought is to get out, warn others about the temple... if they all haven't gotten stuck in here, anyway.

And then... ]

... Lance!

A

[forwearemany]

(Are you sure you didn't mean to offer that to someone else, Lance? Because...)

We are incapable of consuming food or drink.

(They are a robot, and they don't know why they're expected to participate in this, or why they keep being offered things.)

a.

[uptightness]

Pass.

[Those green eyes skip over him, landing for a moment, and it is clear that she isn't going to have any of that. It is her polite way of saying no. Carolina had come, wanting to see if there were any familiar faces, but so far she hasn't come across anyone that she knows. That's not exactly a bad thing, because at least at home she knows that they are relatively safe in their retirement.

At least for a time.]

A

[thermalwind]

Nah. [The drawings are changing as Keith approaches. They shift from a feast to the wash of the sea against a war torn shore, and shadows add themselves to his Marmora armor. Horrific creatures surge across the midnight sky with terrible faces as Jormun face their attackers. Keith looks at them as he comes to stand beside Lance.

His mother’s blade is in his hand but he makes no move to walk into the drawings doing battle on the sketched in sand under their feet.]

I drew this to explain the end of the battle for the sun. [The darkness is receding. Keith turns to him with an unreadable expression on his face.]

I had a dream you were coming. Welcome back.

A

[vagabone]

[Hey, remember this guy? He's totally blocking out whatever you said, Lance, and just shooting a big stupid grin your way.

And.

Not saying a thing.

Isn't that weird?

Don't you dare laugh, señor.]

b.

[counterblows]

[You know it's Wash because he yanks his weapon up before fully comprehending who it is he's looking at. News that new people would be showing up in the temple itself didn't bode well, considering how everyone's talking about the Storyteller, he'd really rather not be here any longer than absolutely necessary.]

[It doesn't follow that he got lost as quickly as he did. His sense of direction ought to be better than this - but he can't even be frustrated about it, if this is what's come of it.]

[In theory.]

[Last month has him wary.]

...are you real?

b

[pidgeypidge]

[She's not really sure how long she's been walking at this point, but it's starting to get frustrating.

Mostly because she's sure she's seen that same bookshelf at least twice now, and there's no way this could be happening!]

Ugh.

[After the third trip past the same bookshelf, Pidge stops, grimaces at the item in question, and turns around to try the opposite direction.

And plows directly into someone. Oops.]

Ow! Wha- Lance?

Nezumi | OTA

[jelliclerats]

a. i've walked through a dream

(There's no time for heavy emotion. Nezumi's in an unfamiliar place with no recollection of travel. The idea of travel alone is a bit hilarious, but he has no time for amusement either. Instead, Nezumi focuses on answers.

His first course of action is to check his bag; he can break something and then disinfect it. How nice. With knees bent, he surveys the offerings: oats, a hammer, matches, alcohol, and the farstone.)

A game. (Someone is playing with him. Nezumi's not amused, but he's not the kind to kick against wind, either.) A wizard behind a curtain, watching as mice scurry around in a maze. (With clear, intentional moves, he repacks the case.) What will you do when the curtain comes down and you're faced with the mice instead?

b. monsun

(The first island the temple implements is Chol. It's odd to step from a stone building into something much more natural, something much hotter. Within seconds, Nezumi finds it too hot to continue as is. Removing his wrap, he covers his head, which offers a little coverage from the sun. While many men would remove their shirt, his stays firmly in place.

The effects don't last very long, but it feels much longer thanks to the oppressive heat. Though the way is clear, it isn't always easy to tell if there's another figure in the room with him.)

c.

(Soon, heat gives way to something much less natural, something made by the hands of man. Nezumi steps through the door and into the busy city of Ai'tuoh. Things feel different here, more on edge. Nezumi instantly grows a bit tenser. Wilderness and basic instinct he can navigate, but the law and oppression of man is a bit harder. It seems devoid of people for now, at least. That only hints at the illusionary nature of the town.)

It seems I'm not in Kansas any more.

d. wildcard

(ooc | Have another idea you want to try? Hit me up.

Nezumi is a new character who has no idea wtf is happening. He comes with a few warnings as well as a permission page for his abilities. If you want to reach me, I can be found at wrinklesintimes. Let's plot c:)

c.

[uptightness]

[While Carolina isn't exactly the most approachable or social of people, it is the turn of phrase that does catch her attention. Those uncanny green eyes turn to the person who has spoken, a look up and down, figuring that he had been speaking more or less to himself. Yet, if she were to wager a guess, she would place her bets on him being new...]

No. Not Kansas. Not the USA. Not even Earth.

Also C ARE YOU READY?

[savedbyasong]

[Shion was a quite frequent visitor to the Story Tellers Temple, it was the main hub of activity after all and he tried to maintain the memorial garden at least a couple of times a week.

Today was strange, though truthfully the whole of the last month had been strange. But today though he was certain it was not the door he had walked through he found himself in the chamber of Glyphs. A chamber of Glyphs that was alive.

Strange, unsettling. Shion tried to leave, to find his way into the main temple.

To find himself on the streets of Ai Tuoh. Panic welled up in him and he forced himself to breathe. Even by the standards of this place there was no way he could be here. He hadn't travelled, hadn't gone through a mana pool. But he had no idea how he could be here and he instantly darted into the shadows, breathing, trying to stay calm.

The streets were empty. Or at least they were until he rounded a corner and saw Nezumi.

Of course. It was just another illusion. Just another trick. This place wasn't real. Nezumi wasn't real. Shion let out a slightly despairing laugh.] Have you not had enough? [It's not really Nezumi he's talking to, rather whatever is behind this.]

B

[thermalwind]

It shouldn’t be this way. [A voice says from his left. Keith is a tall man with enough obvious muscle on him to telegraph his nature as a fighter. If the burn of his violet eyes or the hilt of a weapon on the hip on his dark armor didn’t do it. He glances around at the charred black land around them with a frown on his face. The heat is almost as bad as those first moments the sun rose from the island.]

Chol burned months ago. It shouldn’t still be this hot.

[He turns in a slow circle scanning for threats and studies the stranger.]

I’m heading back to the stone doorway. You should come with me. I can answer some of your questions.

b.

[postictal]

[Tim's moving at a brisk clip through the fabricated landscape, despite the heat and sweat; he doesn't plan on staying here any longer than he has to. If this place's psychological effects apply here, he especially doesn't want to stick around - he might get to a point where he doesn't want to leave, and then where will he be?]

[He's not keen on finding out. Nor is he keen on leaving some...kid in here either. He looks like a kid, anyway; knowing the way ages can be around here, he's not going to go to war on that one.]

Hey. You real? [Not as weird a question as it seems, honest.]

c

[everylittlesecret]

If this was Kansas, I woulda bounced by now.

[Hello newbie. Or Nari is assuming so with a statement like that. At least this guy seems to know Earth, which was not as common or uncommon as one would think. Just an average.]

For one this time of year it would be cold as fuck and possibly snowing. The cold is worse. Always windy.

[Wow this place is creeping her out. Her new companion might notice that the temperature drops just a few degrees around them.]

Legion | ota

[forwearemany]

A.

(One particularly interesting scene that newcomers and residents might just happen across is that of a battle.

Bodies litter the floor -- this is a fight that has gone on for some time, and Legion appears to be on the losing end. Backed against a tree by several armed fighters, they face them down with only a simple chalk spear.

They wouldn't be ungrateful for help.)

B.

(They had come here intending to make a request of the Storyteller.

What they found instead was ... unexpected.

Now they are unable to leave, though they continue to seek an exit.

Perhaps, during their wanderings, you will find them?)

b.

[uptightness]

[She isn't swearing, as Carolina isn't one to do that too often, but she does look annoyed. The door that she had entered isn't the door that she can exit out of, which, in this place, isn't that surprising. It is annoying as hell though, and if it is some sort of a puzzle, she had no idea what it is. Hop on one foot backwards? She's not actually going to try it.

There is that frown on her face as she has stopped, trying to work it out. She had been able to enter, so she should be able to exit. The how is the issue at hand... Her arms are crossed over her chest, lips pursed, at least until she hears an approach, and when she does, Carolina finds herself blinking. Yet the image remains, and despite herself, she does watch... it? approach. Armor? Nothing that she is familiar with, but it could be from some place that she isn't familiar with as well.]

A!

[deathfindsaway]

[He lives close enough to the temple that when something is going on, it becomes incredibly apparent. Meaning when any weirdness starts with arrivals, he tends to be the first to know entirely on accident. That said, this place continues to find ways to surprise him, namely that the walls are literally attacking now. Perhaps thankfully, he comes with his own very solid weapon, summoning his scythe to his hands and cutting a clean sweep across three or four of the soldiers. It's hard to mistake this robot, after all.]

What's going on? Do you know?

shiro | ota

[galrarm]

one.
I'm not joining in this.

[ Shiro's voice--usually warm--is hard and deeply cold. Being asked to fight in what looks like a battle for sport, that... mm. That doesn't settle well with him at all, and brings up ugly, paralyzing memories. The drawings-made-real aren't taking no for an answer, though; they murmur indistinctly, triggering Shiro's sense of danger. ]

My answer is no.

two.
[ Once he's dodged a bullet, so to speak, he makes his way through the temple in an attempt to find a way out. He's gone missing more times than he should, and he hopes Keith and Pidge aren't worrying themselves sick.

Except... well, he can't find a way out. And it is frustrating. He recognizes his surroundings shifting, and he frowns to himself. ]

Are these... other islands?

one.

[uptightness]

I don't think they are really taking no for an answer.

[She is thinking that today she should have worn her armor, but she had decided against it this morning. Yet, just because they aren't taking no for an answer doesn't mean that Carolina is going to say yes to whatever they are attempting.]

Might be able to outsmart them.

[Carolina only kills as a last resort, and even that is something that she doesn't take lightly. Even with Sharkface, she had tried to get him to stop several times, yet he had kept coming. Her eyes are scanning around, seeking some answer.]

the drifter | ota

[hyperlit]

i. temple

[The Drifter is fighting a...creature. It's not clear what it is to them, exactly, because every time they try swiping at it with their blade, their attack breezes harmlessly through it - chalk powder and empty air. It bears a striking resemblance to a tigershark, though loosely illustrated.]

[At several points, they grow a tad overenthusiastic with their attacks and go careening into the chamber walls, though they get to their feet immediately after, with hardly a break in their rhythm.]

[They're not really showing any signs of stopping, either.]

ii. something else

[They went through the door. Of course they did. When a god opens a door, you step through it. When the god does not reveal themself, you find them. If they're in need of your help, you...you find them.]

[And so they kept going through doors, again and again, until they set foot into someplace...wrong.]

[Someplace very, very wrong.]

[Strains of volcanic corruption spiderweb underfoot. Chunks of debris drift haphazardly through a burnt-black sky. The scent of ash blows on an arid breeze. The Drifter inhales, and doubles over coughing. Groping for the door. The door. Beneath their feet, the ground shivers, threatening to crumble away into nothing and send them plummeting into the bloodred abyss.]

[They need to get out of here.]

ii

[forwearemany]

(Legion themselves isn't too keen on sticking around in this temple, and it doesn't take too long for them to find themselves in a place distinctly different from any other.

The environment is non optimal, but they do not immediately start to choke -- no lungs -- a fortunate thing, given the plight of their friend.)

Drifter.

(And immediately, they move to grab the Drifter and get them out of there.)

The Guardian | OTA

[smallkindness]

[A - Temple

The Chamber that was once full of nothing but silence has come alive with noise with the drawings come to life. The Guardian had gone when they had heard what was happening, to see it for themself and to make sure those who could not defend themselves were not caught in any potential crossfires. But it appears the drawings have other plans in mind.

A loud cheer echoes throughout the Chamber of Glyphs and anyone looking around will quickly spot the Guardian surrounded by drawings of people in a large circle. They are not being ganged up on but judging by one unconscious person being dragged away by a few others, they had indeed been pulled into a dueling ring.

It is not hard for them to deal with (the flat side of their blade worked well) but the Guardian holds up a single finger, indicating they will only fight one more time. A mummer goes up among the crowd as they figure out who that will be.

And for those passing by, they may be the one pulled into the ring.]


[B - Chol

Buried Time had teleporters that dotted each of the Zones so the concept was not an unknown to the Guardian. However opening a door to go one place and ending up in another was certainly new.

The land of Chol had long since disappeared by the time the Guardian had arrived on Enso. Blackened grounds seemingly stretched onward as far as the eye can see but the Guardian's senses, honed over years of combat and scouting, quickly allowed them to notice the irregular nature of what they have stumbled across.

The sound of footsteps that echoed, the silence that should not exist. An illusion then.

Exploring to find a way out of this illusion is the larger priority but the Guardian will approach those who also find themselves in need of help.]

A.....

[lightlessfuture]

[ Well, today has been a particularly chaotic day, and all that aimless running around with no apparent solution has given the Knight an itch for something simpler to do.

So, rather than do the sensible thing and stay away from what's clearly a ring of people clamouring for a fight, they head towards the sound of cheering instead to see what's going on.

The drawings don't particularly discriminate between children and adults, and as it so happens, a small and vaguely familiar bug is the Guardian's next opponent.

They don't seem unhappy to be here, though. Quite the opposite, in fact; they respectfully incline their head, and draw their nail with a flourish.

It's not a fight to the death, so they're fine with it. ]