lifeaftr | November Intro: We Used to Think Our Words Were Gold

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 )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[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.]

(Not armor, but a fully functional robot, actually.

They stop when they see her and stare back, tilting their head to the side. Their headflaps lift slightly.)

Greetings.

Hello...

[Which may trail off slightly toward the end as she stares while trying not to stare at the being. It is something that Caboose would drag home and name Sparkles or Lollipop or some strange name akin to Freckles. Sentient or intelligent? Or just programed?]

You trying to find a way out as well?

(Except they already have a name.)

(They don't seem put off by the stare.)

Affirmative.

We are Legion, the relict.

(No longer just a relict of the Geth.)

Carolina.

[Former Freelancer? She leaves that out though, as her sense of humor isn't really much of a sense of humor. Cocking her head, she does question.]

Relict?

Acknowledged. Greetings, Carolina.

(They chatter.)

Our people are gone. Our allies abandoned us. Recently, we also discovered all machine life in our galaxy of origin has been exterminated.

We are the last.

And who are your people?

[Curious as to that. It is a unique speech pattern, and word choice as well. Not that she expects to know the race, but it isn't like Legion is saying humans suck, like some alien races that she is aware of.]

They were the Geth.

(So nothing she would know. Unless Wash has mentioned them.)

[It isn't a name that she is familiar with, not that she expected to, but there might have been a chance. No doubt it is just one of many foreign races that Caorlina will meet here.]

And I take it you're looking for an exit as well?

Yes.

(They chatter.)

We have not found it.

No. I haven't either.

[She glances back in the direction that the being had come from.]

Didn't find anything where I came from.

(Legion found nothing where they came from either.)

Acknowledged.

(After a moment, they will start walking in a direction it appears neither of them have explored.)

[Not much of a talker, but Carolina's fine with that. While she doesn't trust, and may well go forward just in case the knowledge was a lie that there was no way out back there, for now, she takes the same route.]

(And for a bit, they'll walk in silence, but then:)

Query.

November Intro: We Used to Think Our Words Were Gold

b.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject