December Intro: Pressure Building

[lifeaftr_mods]

INTRO LOG: DECEMBER

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

It begins on a mild autumn day, one where the breeze is gentle and the sky a deep, cloudless blue. Ensō is quiet as the adventurers that call it (if only temporarily) home begin to awaken and go about their daily business- for those who have been here long enough, this may consist of searching for those new arrivals, undoubtedly lost and likely confused. It is a normal day on Ensō. Then the water starts to rise.

Northern Beachfront: Let Me Get Off the Ground
For newcomers waking on the shoreline and those who have come to greet them, the rapid swelling of the ocean's surface will be immediately noticeable. Just a few, short miles from the shore, the water continues bulging upwards to terrifying heights, obscuring the sun and throwing warped shadows over the majority of Ensō's northern landscape. It towers there, wobbling, inexplicably retaining its shape even as it ripples, flowing, and sends great streams of saltwater streaming over the ocean's surface. Though the sun is barely capable of piercing the immense mass, those with a keen eye will see...something moving within, coiled far above sea level. Some dark mass, too distorted by the water and the lack of light to solidify into any easily recognizable shape, nonetheless makes its presence felt regardless. All nearby will find themselves stricken with a growing sense of being watched by a gaze that pierces flesh and bone…one that is none too appreciative of what it sees.

Retaliation to this apparent threat is both vicious and immediate. Bursting from the trees and whipping through the air within a tornado of motion, thousands, then tens of thousands of ink-stained pages whip out from Ensō's jungle and across open water like a flock of ferocious birds, striking at the liquid mountain with unceasing fervor.

Now may not be the best time to gawk, adventurers. With this attack, the raised water will begin to collapse - and the giant waves resulting from the sudden upset will bear no mercy for anyone swept off their feet in the churning swells.

Storyteller's Temple and the Rest of Ensō: I See Your Corruption
Those seeking shelter and answers will find them limited in supply, if not entirely absent. For, you see, the mana pools on Ensō have ceased functioning, leaving characters stranded wherever they may be at the time the assault begins.

No safety can be found within the temple walls this day, with more and more black pages erupting from every door and window. Attempts to approach and even push through won't be harmful, or at least not intentionally - rather, the pages will force back anyone who attempts to come between them and their current objective. Those who may not get the message the first time may just find themselves flying quite a ways away.

The above will quickly become the least of anyone’s worries. Those who remember the rebirth of the sun back in January will not doubt recall the creatures of the night faced during those darkest hours. As the waters around Ensō continue to churn in response to the offshore assault, large waves act as ferries for those precise beasts, clambering onto the shore in droves. Though the sun is obscured in many spaces, these shadowy creatures will always make for the treelines during daylight hours, seemingly sluggish at best under natural lighting.

Unfortunately, the Storyteller will be occupied for quite some time - and once night falls, those deadly beings will be on the hunt.

For the duration of the assault, the islets will remain relatively safe during daylight hours, so long as your character is capable of accessing a boat to travel there. Once night falls, however, they will be as dangerous as the mainland.

Both the shadowy creatures and the risen water will retreat on the morning of December 10th, leaving Ensō silent once more. The hovering pages, however, will continue circling the coastline for some time like great papery seabirds.

The doors to the Storyteller’s temple shall remain closed.

---

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

[postictal]

Never got that far the first time.

[He's lost his flare gun, and he doesn't feel like he can risk taking his eyes off the scene to go searching for it just now.]

Right now, I'm thinking I'll try burning him.

[antepone]

I'll--

[ She pushes down the thoughts rearing up, the thoughts of hurting Tim, the thoughts of you can't do anything, you're too weak, the thoughts of how much she's failed before. ]

-- Tell me how I can help.

[postictal]

[Tim grimaces. He can focus on Mr. Skittles anew. Those eyes that don't seem right, because no part of him seems right, and he'd sent the paranoia skipping down his spine the first time he saw him, he knows.]

[Now that he has him in his sights, he doesn't want to look away.]

Can you start a fire?

[antepone]

I can try. It'll take me a little while.

[ She doesn't have powers like many of the others. She's pretty out of her element, but she takes a deep breath and tries to calm herself. ]

... You don't have another flare gun, do you?

[postictal]

[He starts to nod, and then - you know what? Actually, he has something better.]

One second. Don't make eye contact with him. Don't listen to him. Okay? [He has to say that, because he's gonna need a minute to dig through his knapsack and pull out a jar of something that looks an awful lot like beads.]

[antepone]

[ She nods, and she focuses on anything but the figure behind her. It's tempting to listen. Tempting to listen to how he's speaking so warmly about her, but-- She instead focuses on the sounds of Tim digging through his knapsack, anything but him. ]

What are those?

[postictal]

They start fires.

[One is usually enough. Strike it firmly, feed it plenty of fuel, and you'll have a merry blaze in a matter of minutes. He typically saves them for emergencies; fire-starting happens to be one of his few valuable talents, so the convenience hasn't been strictly necessary.]

[One is usually enough.]

[Tim scrapes up an entire fistful and hurls them.]

[The effect is more or less immediate.]
[ WHOOSH. ]

[antepone]

[ That would make sense. She's never seen anything like them--around Nari, she didn't need anything but her best friend's powers--but she trusts what Tim says.

(Trust in conjunction with someone she hardly knows-- that doesn't happen. But, she guesses, nothing like arson and a shadow creature to bring people together.)

She jumps, clapping a hand to her mouth. She can't say whether she's seen so much fire, before; her instincts are telling her to get away, that fire like this could easily get out of control. ]

We should-- we should go, shouldn't we? Get to Denny.

[postictal]

[Sparks catching eddies of wind and sizzling when they settle on the skin of his arms, on his hair. They pinch, burn, and he doesn't brush them aside. He's two inches to the left of himself. He's drifting. He's watching the world roar to life with sheets of orange-gold flame. He's gritting his teeth. He's - ]

[We should go.]

[He looks back at her, finally, and he's not sure whether or not he should really be seeing her. The reality of the situation is strange, slipping, poorly constructed.]

...yeah

[He doesn't feel entirely himself.]

Okay.

[antepone]

[ She doesn't ask if he's okay. It's a stupid question. Not only an she see he's not okay, but she can feel it. And Mira tries so, so hard to not reach out to people she's met only a couple of times, but. Her own emotions are running high and she's already overwhelmed by everything going on.

Her worry. Her fear. Her anger at her total inability to do nothing but stand around and wait for other people to help her.

She looks away from Tim and nods. ]

... Okay. We're lucky it's not too far.

[ She begins to walk, glancing over her shoulder briefly. She needs to make sure he's following her. ]

[postictal]

[He's following. He's good at following, though he was usually the one being followed. Always in front, because Jay didn't want him walking behind him, and Tim didn't want to be walking behind him either, exactly - didn't trust it.]

[When his eyes drift out of focus and he has trouble coming back into himself, he can see her. Still exists a few degrees to one side, not entirely feeling himself, but when does he? He never feels himself. He tries to avoid feeling himself whenever possible.]

It's just ahead. [The words sound like they're being uttered by someone else. Smoke is still curling out behind them.]

[Can't hear it screaming. Can't hear it dying.]

[antepone]

Okay.

[ Her reply is quiet. Her hand hurts, from how hard she'd hit Tim. She could apologize a million times, and she would still feel guilty. More than that, though, she hates how easily she'd fallen for the creature's words.

It's not your fault, says a faint voice in the back of her head. She can't believe it. So instead of trying, she ignores it. She can feel how out of it Tim is--putting it lightly. ]

... I'm sorry for hitting you.

[postictal]

[There's only a brief moment for him to register that - that someone has just apologized for something as small as that.]

[No one really does that. Jay couldn't, by necessity, and was likely never going to. Brian - he could never pretend to understand what went on in Brian's head, after everything. Gobbet simply never felt that she should, and he didn't blame her. Chara doesn't put much stock in apologies in general. People just...don't apologize for how they've treated him. Ever.]

[It's so - small. Maybe she even means it.]

We're both alive. It was worth it.

[antepone]

[ Tim's reply catches her off-guard. She opens her mouth for a moment, then closes it and falls quiet. She doesn't think it was worth it. She doesn't think she's worth it.

But. She won't bring that up. It's not the time. And Mira won't even open up to Nari half the time. ]

.... Okay. [ She composes her expression into something neutral. But it softens, not long after. ] Thank you, by the way-- for helping me.

[postictal]

[Downplay, dismiss, act like it's not the least bit important - because it isn't. Shouldn't be. Doesn't matter. Shouldn't.]

...don't worry about it. Had a score to settle with him anyway.

[antepone]

Oh. [ a pause. ] Of course.

[ Right. He'd known how to get rid of the thing. Had known how it operates. ]

... Do you think he's gone for good?

[postictal]

[Tim huffs softly. Sure would be fucking nice if he would, but when has Tim's luck ever served him well]

I wouldn't put money on it.