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

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.]

You got that impression, too?

[ His voice softens a little, when he replies to the woman. He's not annoyed with her, after all. His hand tightens on the handle of the strange weapon. He follows her lead, looking around the place for anything that might help. ]

Do you have any ideas?

Play along, with an emphasis on the play part.

[Act, pretend, but don't follow through. Don't kill, and try not to injure. Glancing around, that frown remains, etched on her lips.]

There has to be some way out of this. Be the last ones standing?

[ He hates that he's used to this kind of thing. But at least he's got someone by his side, someone who doesn't want to go along with this whole thing. ]

"Be the last ones standing" seems like the likeliest answer, yeah. Unfortunately.

Standing and alive are two different things though, so hopefully standing.

[She's knowledgeable enough to knock people, or whatever these beings are, without actually killing them. Unless they genuinely turn violent. Still, killing is a step further than she is willing to go.]

[ He can't help but smile wryly. ]

Hopefully. [ And just to test a theory, he steps to the side. The eyes of the drawings follow him, lifelike and eerie. ]

That's unsettling.

This whole entire place is.

[Unsettling. From talking animals to flowers that grow out of your skin, there's nothing about this that is normal. She still has no idea what to make of it or of the Storyteller. Not a dream, anyway, at least not in the regular sense, because they are never this vivid or last for this long.

That glance back towards the others, before cocking her head slightly.]

Try moving that way. I'll cover.

[ He looks to her, then nods. She's a fighter, he can tell, and there's a part of him that trusts her.

Shiro moves, and the living drawings keep their eyes trained on him. ]

[She does make it seem casual, not to draw too much attention to them, although it is clear that they are being watched. Her grip tightens on the weapon in her hand but she doesn't make any threatening moves. Should she create a distraction? Maybe once they get closer to an exit.]

[ He does not like this. He doesn't like anything about this situation at all, from the drawings to the feel of the weapon in his hand, to the fact that they're going to have to find a way out of this place and he's not sure when that'll be.

He's close to the exit. The drawings are getting more restless. ]

Go.

[Because she can read the situation in the room, and it's getting more heightened. She turns to face them, still taking steps back as she does. She's not far herself, and still doesn't want to get in to anything, but sometimes she's not the one making that choice.]

Got it.

[ He takes off, running for some distance before he slows and takes a look behind him. He would feel absolutely guilty if she got caught or hurt while he ran ahead.

If she's not there, he's ready to hightail it back. ]

[She is delayed a little, kicking out the legs of one who tries to get to close, and ducking away from another that tries to grab her. Confusion, at least, legs her shift away, and the thudding of her feet echo before her as she comes charging out.]

Keep going!

[At least until they can find a spot to regroup and reassess what is going on.]

November Intro: We Used to Think Our Words Were Gold

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