January Intro: It Grips Me

[lifeaftr_mods]

INTRO LOG: JANUARY

Who: New arrivals, and you!
What: New souls arrive to the archipelago of LifeAftr
When: January 5th and onward
Where: All over Ensō
Warnings: Mark as needed!

Shores of Ensō: The Sun's a Harsh Reminder Why
As dawn arrives - and with it, new adventurers to Ensō's shores. It appears the Storyteller is not about to allow a repeat of last month. The ever watchful pages that have guarded the shorelines the month prior now begin to move closer inland, circling the landscape in closing, careful arcs. To the particularly astute, their purpose may quickly become clear. Anything foreign to Ensō's natural ecosystem will be met initially with wary hovering, ruffled pages flocking to nearby trees and wheeling overhead. Now and again, a particularly brave little page will swoop down to tap against the top of an unsuspecting entity.

Foreign entities, in this instance, just so happen to include...well, all of you. These partially sentient notes can be found flitting across the entirety of Ensō and the neighboring housing islets, intent on surveying every little nook and cranny of the tropical landscape. While they may little more than a vague irritant, their attitude towards a person they’re surveying can absolutely get worse, depending on the response they receive. Though responses may vary (and creativity, encouraged), the pages are looking for indications of anything that is not only out of the ordinary, but also that which is acting suspicious. Unfortunately, they're not quite experienced in determining what does and does not count as a genuine threat, and thus they might very well interpret even the smallest signs of surprise, anxiety, and (justified) irritation as signs of hostility.

Unfortunately, their response to this is likely to be just as unpleasant as it is abrupt. Those of you who protest a little too vigorously may find yourselves abruptly doused with a viscous black ink - a marker to return and inspect you again in future. Where more aggressive behavior is…noted, you may very well find yourself swept up in a tornado of angry paperwork, only to be abruptly (and not at all comfortably) deposited at the Storyteller's temple. A very weary Storyteller will do their best to apologize as they slowly smooth out the kinks in this new security system.

But surely you agree, dear adventurer, that this sort of security system is indeed necessary.

Ensō, Inland: Who Knows Where Our Limits Lie
Unsuspecting adventurers aren't the only creatures the pages seem intent on harassing, it seems. Across Ensō, the activity of the native fauna will become much more apparent as creatures are driven from their usual haunts by invading paper. From the smallest of snaplings to herds of cariborn, it will take some time for the wildlife to settle down as many disturbed creatures will find themselves displaced miles away from their natural homes, seemingly at random. Unfortunately, this also includes the creatures most would prefer not to have on the move. For the unappraised, Ensō happens to play host to a particularly horrifying brand of wildlife known only as the fustercluck: a large swath of appropriated limbs with katamari-like qualities, if katamaris were more well known for digesting the majority of their victims and using what little remained (usually the hands and feet) to propel themselves towards their next meal.

Despite Ensō being home to two such creatures, very little has been discovered about them, aside from how unfortunately indestructible they seem to be. Magic, guns, bombs - name your poison, and a fustercluck will most certainly be impervious to it, including poison itself. Should you be unlucky enough to wander into the path of a fustercluck, your best option is to run - or lend the fustercluck a hand.

And another hand. And your entire body, since you offered so nicely.

The fusterclucks have a more directed path than most creatures - they can be found moving up and down the rows of G and H until January 10th, when they appear to settle down...unless they're diverted elsewhere first.

---

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

[wonderland_vogue]

[One]

[You know, waking up on an island isn't exactly the weirdest thing that's happened to her. But the fact that she's, somehow, for some unfathomable reason, summoned her phantom steed while she was out is a little odder. Especially because while Lydia is totally in an obnoxiously fleshy body and cloaked in a tattered, old, black robe? Her steed is colorful and bright as hell.]

... What.

[Of course that would be her first response before moving inward at the insistence of the steed nudging her shoulder to get her moving. Until one of those damn papers is coming down and she's immediately ignoring the hell out of it. It's some stupid kind of magic, she's pretty sure, since that's no bird. And her disposition is no sunnier being harassed by what is clearly a piece of paper.]

What a shit spell... [She's grumbling under her breath, flinching the moment it tries to get under her cloak and she's pulling it closer.] AND FUCK OFF.

[Two]

[So, uh. You know who has decided to not touch that shit with a hundred foot pole? Lydia. Lydia has decided correctly as she's seen some bullshit monsters in her time and that seems like ten pounds of nope in a five pound bag. Doesn't mean she won't watch it from afar and on top of that stupid fucking horse just in case it tries to get close to her.]

How does that even happen?

[Wildcard]

[Pick your own damn poison here, folks.]

2

[forwearemany]

(Legion has seen the fustercluck. Legion was not quite smart enough to immediately flee from the fustercluck, but after two shots from the Widow did no discernible damage, they got the point.

Now they are observing it from afar, much like this other person. Who they don't think to warn of their presence before speaking.)

Uncertain. We believe they are referred to as "fusterclucks".

(Oh hey, there's a robot nearby.)

the stars collide!!!! (one)

[crosslaced]

[A large figure emerges from the verdant forest and stops at the edge of the beach, staring in awe at the sight before him. No, wait, it's just a normal-sized guy on a horse. Okay. His horse isn't even a particularly glamorous horse- it's brown with a black mane, the most stereotypical horse colour ever.

Perhaps that explains how impressed he is- with Lydia's horse, of course, he's not actually looking at her. In fact, he's only just noticing her existence now.]

....

[He's not saying anything, he's just staring in the general direction of her struggles (i.e. at the horse) like a man witnessing Tazesus Tazhrist, coming down to finally smite this tropical hell off the map. You get the idea.]

1

[barberian]

(Oh, you- got something, there.

Yasha pauses at the sight of somebody struggling with one of the little paper sentinels. They've been bothering her every now and then but they've taken a couple of light swats without dousing her, so she isn't aware of that being an outcome when she reaches for the one harassing a stranger. She plucks it out of the air, and rips it neatly in half. It's only paper, after all.)

There.

(And then a few more come from out of nowhere to dive bomb the both of them, promptly splattering them with ink.)

two!

[deathfindsaway]

It shouldn't.

[Kravitz is also keeping his distance, just kind of observing where the fustercluck is moving. He's mostly just trying to make sure it doesn't veer a hard left into elf camp, at which point he's prepared to cut a rip in space to just send it the opposite way. But from afar, it just looks... absolutely ridiculous.

Not that she's much less of a sight, to be fair.]

But most things on this island shouldn't, and yet.

[He just sounds tired.]

[wanderingdoctorfaust]

Paging Doctor Faust

The good doctor is positively glowing, today. He's in a completely foreign area of the dreamscape with little hope of ever finding his bearings - the start of a wonderful adventure! And the land around him is just absolutely stunning. Maybe he'll retire here, he muses to himself...he's even been able to keep his full waking-world attire and weapon of choice, as if this couldn't have gotten any better.

But that said...he's not sure about these little animated sheets of paper. They've been flocking around him like a ravenous horde of angry birds. One just swooped down and attempted to get acquainted with the bag, much to his chagrin. He spends a little too long watching them circling the skies above, and subsequently narrowly avoids tripping over a rock...leading to him to lay an eyehole on another fully-manifested, living-and-breathing individual! He immediately raises his free hand to wave eagerly, using the other to lower his scalpel into a non-threatening position.

"Lovely day for it!"

And he means it. Faust thinks he's going to really enjoy his time here.

Wild Card

(It really wouldn't be Faust if something predictable happened. Do as the heart desires.)

[lightlessfuture]

[ It's about that time again, so the Knight is on the lookout for anyone new. And in this case, finding someone new is as easy as investigating what they thought might have been a weird tree or something.

But no, it's a very, very tall...human...? Do humans get that tall? They've never bothered to ask, though from their height of two feet, everyone looks tall.

Oh well. The important thing is that this person is waving and is making an effort to be friendly, so naturally they wave back enthusiastically.

...Which attracts some of the little paper pages that had previously been circling Faust. But it's fine, probably. ]

[journalname]

Oh, howdy!

[Asgore is, at least, much closer to Faust's height than most people. He probably doesn't realize it, though; he was poking his way along with the aid of a large walking stick, and his eyes look cloudy and unfocused when he turns.]

It is, isn't it? The sun is very warm today. And it...sounds as though there are a lot of birds? [It ends in a questioning lilt. They don't sound like the regular island birds.]

[achievementhunter]

[The lowered scalpel is eyed off skeptically by said fully-manifested individual, child not making any motions to approach any further than they already have. The paper bag is- interesting. If that's the word they really want to use. A monster, then? A human with a poor attempt at hiding their identity? Who knows.

The fact that it's up for debate is the only reason they've come within twenty feet of him at all.]

That surely depends on what activities it implies, sir.

[vagabone]

[He's seen a lot of strange things since being yanked out of the land of the dead, but somehow... a guy three feet taller than he is, wearing a paper bag on his head and wielding a scalpel, still strikes him as weird. Very weird. What unspeakable horrors are hidden beneath it?

Hopefully nothing creepier than a walking skeleton in a t-shirt and tattered pants. You can see his patellas, gross. But at least he's a cheerful skeleton!]

Guess so, yeah!

[Because it could be so much worse than annoying bits of paper.]

[forwearemany]

(Legion, upon realizing they could do nothing about the fusterclucks plaguing the island, has decided to avoid them.

That said, it's clearly time for new lifeforms to arrive on Enso, so they're on the beach, seeking them.)

...Greetings.

(They have to look up at him. It is not an entirely new experience, but it is typically one restricted to interactions with Krogan.)

You are new?

(It doesn't really sound like a question, given the lack of inflection in their voice, but it is.)

[timaeus_testified]

Fly like a paper crane - Arrival

[He wakes with the taste of salt in his mouth. That's not right. Awareness slowly returns to him as memories foggy and almost indistinct fall into place. Dirk opens his eyes. The view through his shades is still clear, but cracks mar the edges. Salt dries in his hair and he curses, rolling over onto his back. His back makes a wet slap against the board under him as he shields his face from the glaring light overhead.

A soft rustle like tree leaves catches his attention. He tenses and holds himself utterly still. Small paper notes drift on the breeze coming up off the sea and land on him. One by one they settle themselves.]

...That might not be a good idea, I'm soaking wet. [More pages swirl over his head like a flock of birds. It's not the weirdest thing he's ever been part of. He gently sweeps his arm out as he pushes himself up.] Come on. You should go somewhere else. I need to leave yesterday.

[Yet as he looks around more notes land on the sand about him and fly over his head. Dirk swipes dried salt off his shirt and catches a flash of his name stitched on a pack half buried in the sand. Just before the notes swarm over it.

Damn it.]

Ju ju ju da ju ju KatamaAHHHH!!

Cw: body horror

[With the rocketboard large enough to carry a full grown teenager and then some tucked under his arm, Dirk escapes the beach. The papers seem content to swirl after him and so long as he doesn't do anything threatening he is allowed to move. He makes his way down a well beaten path and wracks his brain any ideas. There had been the dreams. Some of them feel like trying to find meaning in ash or smoke.

It would take too long to sort out when his mind is buzzing with the need to get back to the fray. Or at least some kind of answer. He crosses into a clearing and something darkens the sky above him. He looks up and his stomach drops. A ball rolls through the air supported by an angry flurry of paper notes. The ball is composed of moss, tree limbs, fish, and more importantly human limbs and what he bets is the limbs of whatever creatures reside her. An eyeball rolls around in a head and he books it back the way he came with all speed.]

At the foot of the gods.

[The notes don't like how fast he can move. It's too unnatural. Or maybe it's something else. For whatever reason they surround him in a tornado of paper. He doesn't fight it. Because he's unexpected exhausted. Flash stepping shouldn't drain him dry in such a short flight.

Yet he's sweaty and sagging in the whirlwind. His board clatters to the stone before he does. He's too tired to do more than grunt.] I'm staying here. You can leave a message at some other date.

[After a moment he gets his hands against the stone and pushes himself up enough to lift his head.] Or you could give me a few answers.

Wildcard
[Got ideas? Hit me here. I am game for all things.]

Foot of the gods

[hurricane_clown]

[Karako has also been deposited at the Storyteller's temple, and none too gently at that. It's his own fault, technically--taking knives and slicing pages in half is, in fact, considered aggressive.

The board hits stone behind him, though, and he jumps a good meter into the air with a startled honk, landing back on bare feet just in time to turn around and see Dirk hit the ground himself.

He stares down at the human for a long second, then tips his head to the side.

.... is this guy...

....asking him for answers?]

Honk?

arrival

[antepone]

[ She'd felt the tap of one of the pages on her head, a little while ago. At first, it'd been fine. Just a lone page following her. It almost seems like they're watching her, waiting for something... but Mira isn't sure what.

And then more had swarmed her, and now, as she hears Dirk's voice, there's a flurry of them above her head. Now it's just annoying. ]

I don't think they plan on leaving you alone. [ She bats at the pages when they get too close to her face, and she's rewarded with a hard smack to her hand. ] Ow! That's not very nice at all!

foot of the gods

[catpiper]

[If they all really and truly think about it, the paper whirlwind is really just another method of travel. One she's taken advantage of a couple times now, even though the turbulence is an issue and she doesn't like how close she's come to whacking her head against the stone floor. But that's on her-she needs to coordinate better.

The point is, this is like the fifth time she's tried to grab the paper notes in the palms of her hand in an effort to quickly get back to the temple without walking and she's learning how to land on her-

Well, side. Eventually she'll channel her inner cat and land on her feet, but she doesn't look even remotely upset as she pushes herself up back up.]

Answers?

[sideswitch]

one
[ acxa has seen many things during her adventures in space. she's seen all sorts of different species, environments, and planets--sentient paper isn't among any of those things, but she certainly doesn't seem surprised that it exists. mostly confused, if anything. and she doesn't exactly mind their presence.

up until one of them lands on her shoulder. acxa can be touchy when it comes to physical contact, and her immediate reaction is to swat it away. she should be prepared to face the consequences...but she certainly isn't ready to get doused with a splash of ink.

acxa lets out a grunt as the ink splatters onto her face. she doesn't seem too pleased about it at all, and starts to wipe it off of her face rather aggressively. unfortunately, that also means there's a possibility that some of that ink splashes onto the nearest person. whoops. ]

two.
[ she's only just arrived, and acxa's already coming face-to-face with one of enso's most deadly creatures. she can automatically tell it's hostile as it starts to slither towards her. strangely enough, she doesn't seem like she's panicking at all. stressed, sure. scared? not really.

because she has a gun. and while she doesn't intend to kill it, she's certainly going to aim and fire at it, with the intent to stun it so she can flee.

but it keeps moving. she tries again, and it keeps moving. that's when she turns around and sees someone else standing in its line of sight. immediately, she latches onto their wrist and starts to move. and boy, is she fast. ]

We need to hide! Now!

wildcard.
[ anything goes! ]

two

[antepone]

[ Alright, so she's not exactly slow. But Mira hasn't had any sort of formal training; she's fast, yes, agile because of her size, but the woman--oh, she recognizes her from Mu--is so much faster. And she probably has more stamina than Mira.

... Scratch that. Definitely. ]

I think we just have to get out of its way!

[journalname]

Enso, Islet #3

[Asgore has been keeping close to home since his most recent death. It's for the best, really; he would have a difficult time escaping the fusterclucks roaming the main island right now. Here, the only thing that's noticeably off is the fluttering of wings in the area.

Right above his head, in fact.]

Hello? [There's several pages sitting on his horns, but he doesn't react until one of them ventures down onto his shoulder.] Howdy, little...

[His movements are extremely cautious and slow as he reaches a hand up to investigate. That's probably the only thing that saves him from getting inked. The side effect of not scaring the pages, however, is that a small flock of them descends to investigate this new person. They land wherever they can, along his horns and arms and shoulders. He's being covered in all the papers!]

Ah. [Asgore holds very still. What...what are these things...]

Wildcard

[Hit me up with whatever!]

[ideismo]

[...You know, it's fortunate that this is happening in quite this way - perhaps not for the...whatever this is that's currently covered in pages, not in the way that one would think, but the fact of the matter is this: talking monsters are Bad, or at the very least Not Good, and are generally subject to having Alexei draw weapons on them immediately. However, he's seen enough to know that the pages don't respond well to hostile actions, and this thing seems to be going out of its way to not startle them, and generally speaking that is a sign that he should at the very least not strike first.

So for now Dein Nomos remains sheathed, and when he approaches it's deliberately such as to not be a total goddamn surprise, and his words are even when he eventually does address the, ah. Situation? The situation.]

They aren't any magic nor creature that I've ever seen before. But then, that tends to go for this entire island's worth.

tim wright | h5 | ota

[postictal]

[So. What's located on the H-row of Ensō, might you ask?]

[Denny does. Denny has been happily residing on H5 since Tim put the damn place together, and he's not too keen on losing it. Rebuilding it is likely to take even longer, considering all the supplies they have stashed there, so guess what?]

[Tim is stationed just outside Denny, his normally ever-present knapsack now conspicuously absent. The only equipment he has on hand are the things that might, potentially, come in handy if he ends up having to bait the goddamn fusterclucks away from the area: his spear, a coil of rope, a flare gun, and - Brian's old coconut gun, which he doubts will make much of an impact against the thing, but it's better than nothing.]

[He's not equipped for this. He has no real hope of coming up against the fustercluck and coming out alive.]

[When he sights one of them rolling steadily closer to Denny's location, he tightens his grip on his spear and starts moving for it at a jog.]

[He could probably use some help. He'll be at this all week.]

[prettypurpleparlor]

[Muffet looks grim. She's in no hurry to deal with a fustercluck today, or frankly ever again, but there's absolutely no chance she's just letting one roll right over one of her restaurants without putting up a fight.]

[She's standing lightly on the roof of the Denny- overlooking both the fustercluck as it approaches, and Tim as he approaches it. Not taking her gaze off the scene, she raises her stone of farspeech to her ear with one hand.]

Do we have a plan?

[She's pretty sure that the answer is 'no', but it's one of those things that you have to ask.]

[At the moment, her plan is pretty much just 'attack from range, like a sensible monster'. Unfortunately, she has the nasty suspicion that letting the theoretically more durable human take point here still isn't going to do much to discourage it...]

[ratsinadaze]

i. Arrival

[Salt and sun wash over Gobbet as she wakes up sputtering seawater. Not far away, out of reach of the tide, her two rats snuffle around in a knapsack with her name on it. A cane colored like a candy cane leans against it. Overhead, pages flutter on an unfelt breeze, swooping down to insepct (?) various others waking up along the shore. Memories of dreams both informative and completely insane are hazy, but reachable, in her mind's eye.

Yeah, this might as well happen.

There's not much to do besides lift herself up and approach the pack. The rats seem hesitant to enter her soggy pockets and opt to perch on her shoulders instead. Then, she's approaching whoever doesn't look immediately hostile with:]

Hey. Don't suppose you've got a towel?

ii. Temple

[It was one page, first. Fluttering around her and spooking her rats into hiding. It wasn't aggressive or attacking or anything, just hovering around her shoulders and head, occasionally landing on her, only for her to brush it off with increasing agitation.

Then it was two. Then three. Then five. And Gobbet was not quite sure what to do about that. Apparently, seizing a page and tearing it in two pointedly was not the correct thing to do. A blast of ink blinded her momentarily, and then she was airborn. It's going to be hell to get the ink out of her clothing and dreads. She ponders how she's going to accomplish this as they whisk her off above the treetops, right up until they dump her head first onto the floor of the Storyteller's temple.]

Yeah, screw you too, buddy.

[The words are muffled, spoken into the dirt as she lays there, inked and still damp from her arrival. Help a girl out?]

iii. wildcard!

[Then she's wandering, mostly. Looking for a place to sleep before nightfall. Avoiding fusterclucks. Come at her.]

i.

[postictal]

[Tim blinks, performing an excellent double-take once he realizes who it is that's talking to him. There's no apparent recognition in her stare, and given the way things left off the last time they talked - he doubts she'd want to chat with him of her own free will.]

[Goddamn, but he's really not a fan of this kind of thing. It's happened to him enough times for him to be, unfortunately, used to it, but it doesn't make the cognitive dissonance any easier to bear.]

[He recovers as quickly as he can, namely by reaching into his knapsack and digging out a blanket that used to belong to someone else.]

Just a blanket.

AT THE TEMPLE

[story_teller]

[ If you've been carried away by a torrent of flying paper, you'll inevitably end up here, dumped unceremoniously at the temple in the island's center.

But, luckily, the god you all know and mostly love is there to greet you - albeit looking rather frazzled and frustrated, and surrounded by a constant swirl of paper familiars.

They appear rather conventional this time, as conventional as a god that shifts shape constantly can get; an antlered rabbit with flowers sprouting from various parts of them. ]

[catpiper]

[Sorry, friendly neighborhood god. She's been harassing the papers to take the shortcut here and this probably isn't the first time they've seen her ink covered body dumped here today. But it's the first time she's seen them outside of Storytelling. The first time in a long while and she's surprised that-

Well, they're still blooming. The flowers haven't wilted or fallen of their form yet and that's-

Probably not good and coupled with more recent events, she wonders how bad off they are. So since she has them in her sights, she has to ask]

Does your heart feel okay?

[alchemisted]

[ Option 1 - Awake ]

[Alfor's eyes open to a sky that he doesn't expect, from a dream that he only half remembers having, and half knows wasn't just a dream. The memories are bleary, jumbled.

So. It's a good start.

Also, he notes, glancing down, he's a bit drippy. Lovely. At least the armor is well-sealed. Still, he fumbles a hand to release the helmet as he sits up, taking stock of his surroundings. He makes his way out of the surf, further inland. This is when the first group of the pages find him.]

Well. Aren't you friendly? [He remarks, wrongly. Really really wrongly.]


[ Option 2 - Annoyed ]

[The pages are, in fact, not friendly. And they have not respected his personal space. Not even a little. They also didn't like the gentle swatting he tried to discourage them.

The splash of black across half his hair, face and the chest plate of his armor is evidence of that. Perfect, really. So much for the dignified Paladin and King of Altea.]

Why those little... [He trails off into a string of intensely displeased Altean that is probably not appropriate for all audiences.

And the cursing only increases when the pages swarm again, and this time Alfor's bayard is out and activated and swinging. He looks ridiculous, and he'd do better with a net than a broadsword. But he's working with what he has. Help him?]


[ Option 3 - Appalled ]

[As he's explored this place, the flora and fauna have been, for the most part, quite fascinating. Alfor is used to visiting strange worlds and meeting new life and new civilizations... so to speak.

He has not, however, ever seen something quite like what he's staring at now.

Thankfully he catches sight of the thing before he's in its path or on top of it. Before it's on top of him. He makes his way parallel along its movements, keeping out of sight, but trying to make sense of the monstrosity that is the fustercluck.]

What in the name of the Ancients is that thing?

[And anyone who happens to be passing that he catches sight of will receive a quiet warning and a gesture to stay back.]

There's... something... down there. I wouldn't go near it.


[ Option 4 - A... Wildcard ]

[Something else? Hit me here or at seasided]

2.

[mamaterasu]

[Patience is a virtue, and usually...Ammy doesn't have a lot of patience. Thankfully, she knows what the pages are, and who they're coming from, so even if she's lost a bit of sleep here and there, also driven from her usual hangouts, she hasn't openly aggravated the pages. he's just growled, grumbled, then meandered her way to the next spot in the sun to relax. And, along the way, she's encountered an old friend. It's probably been driven from its own nesting grounds on the island, but swoops down toward the wolf and tucks itself into her dense fur, looking agitated and cawing as the pages flutter close.

Thankfully, her adopted phoenix from months ago doesn't erupt into flames, and Ammy can relax a bit--...okay, nope. There's another whozit galumphing through the brush, muttering and snorting like an upset oxen. Will she never find a quiet place to rest today? It seems not, and the wolf lifts her head and looks Alfor dead in the eye as he approaches, shifting just enough so that her back's turned to him. But not before she eyes him up and down. noting the splatters of dark ink on him, and her lips pull into a cheeky, wolfish grin.

Heh heh...serves you right.]

[maxout]

one.
[If anyone was thinking that Electro was going to respond well to these pages... let's not kid ourselves, no one was expecting that.

At first his annoyance is just manifesting itself as idle sparks around him. Then he gets hit by the first spray of ink. Which is right when he hits his limit and the gloves come off. Literally, actually, as both his helmet and gloves retract into his containment suit, exposing his very electric self.]

Okay, that's it!

[Speaking of electricity, if you're nearby, you might want to get out of the way. Because now Electro is just trying to blast the pages with lightning. Considering the fact that they're small, quick targets and he's not exactly being careful...

Well, you do the math.]

two.
[No one is surprised that Electro got swept up by a paper tornado. Really, that was just sort of inevitable. It hasn't actually done much to get him to chill out. Again, not shocking. And after leaving the temple, he can be found close by. His suit is sealed again, at least, which makes him just a little safer to approach.

Not to say that he's incredibly approachable. Mostly he's grumbling to himself, while trying to wipe off ink stains. At least it seems to be coming off of the material of his suit easily enough. That's... That's one win today. He kind of figures he just has to take it.

So go say hi to the obvious newbie if you want, I'm not your mom. Just, you know. You've been warned.]

three.
[You know, he's seen a lot of absolute bullshit recently? The elevator comes to mind, for one. And generally he's reacted to it okay, he feels!

Okay is code for "tried to electrocute it on sight". Because of course it is.

But seeing this... thing. This giant mass of parts... Even someone with Electro's temper can't be anything but shocked. There's only one correct response to this.]

Nope.

[And that's his cue to shoot lightning at the ground, lifting him up in the air, and just getting the fuck out of the way. He's just gonna get far away from this thing, kthx.]

wildcard.
[anything else you wanna do? hit me up.]

1.

[mamaterasu]

[Ah, and here Ammy thought investing on keeping her Thunderstorm brush skill wasn't a great idea. She can hear jolts and cracks nearby to where she was sleeping, totally unphased and not at all bothered by the paper after a while, and that is more than enough to get her up and ready to investigate. It sounds like the crackle of thunder and lightning, a sound she's not heard in a long time since she...hasn't had need of the skill in a while. Diverting and controlling lightning isn't as useful when lightning doesn't regularly strike...

But, uh. That is. Yeah. That sure is some lightning being discharged haphazardly around. There's a quick yelps as she jolts away right in time, practically tapdancing on all fours to avoid being shocked. It's only at one point where she actually has to use her reflector as a shield to avoid a full blast.

DUDE, WHAT THE FUCK.]

YAAARF!!

[semistableman]

I
[Last month had been bad enough-- unpleasant and horrible, and Bucky had spent most of it completely by himself after the... whatever the hell the the last month was. He'd been safer in Romania, at least there wasn't a real risk of death.

It's probably not a complete shock when he finally gets sick of his self-imposed exile. The isle isn't too bad; it's actually rather pretty, completely different from anywhere else he's been. He probably picked a bad day to go for a walk, though-- several pages all at once, flapping at him like the most annoying variety of birds.

He swats at them one-handed, left hand firmly at his side.]

Go away!

II
[Bucky had been told about the mana pools, he'd just not seen the point in going near one, especially when he didn't quite know what they were, or how to spot one. The green pool he spots on his walk is what gets him to stop.]

...What's this?

[It's muttered to himself, no to anyone else who might be in the area, kneeling down to peer at the strange body of water carefully.

He's sure as hell not going to be drinking green water, but he does dip his good hand into it carefully, sniffing at the water with some amount of apprehension.]

II because how could i not

[galrarm]

It's called a mana pool. It's a way to recharge certain things.

[ Like his arm, which is very obviously not attached to any part of him. It's just sort of floating, chilling out in the mana pool. ]

I wouldn't drink it.

[coincollection]

a;

[She wakes up on a beach, and isn't that just the strangest thing? It's unexpected for sure, but...she has vague, fuzzy memories of a dream. It seems such a dream might be coming true, if the unfamiliar beach means anything.

She brushes herself free from sand, spying the knapsack with her name embroidered on it. Which is curious - not as curious as the things inside of it. (A random assortment of goods, a flower made of metal, and a pair of kitschy horns? What on earth is she supposed to do with all of this?)

Lunafreya shrugs, hoisting her bag onto her shoulders. Time to get to the bottom of this and find someone who knows what's going on. If anyone else is on the beach when she arrives, prepare to be interviewed.]

I beg your pardon, but...what's going on here?

b;

[The pages are...interesting. It's not a degree of sentience one would expect from paper, but Lunafreya gets the feeling unexpected things are just the name of the game here. She is, after all, alive and well, and that's about as unexpected as things get.

(She was supposed to die, but it seems there are other plans for her. Fancy that.)

She raises a hand to the pages that are intent on investigating the Oracle, bemused at the way they perch.]

You're rather curious, aren't you?

[She's having a full on princess moment - just, you know. With paper trying to figure out if she's a threat.]

c;

[Wildcard option! Lunafreya will be out and about on the islands, so feel free to hit me up (at daintily or discord) to work something out or just go nuts!]

a!

[flower_of_innocence]

[She's done this before. Headed down to the beach with clean water on hand to help those who show up covered in saltwater rinse off a bit, or drink if they need it. So when Lunafreya approaches and asks her question, Lillie isn't surprised. This can all be a bit overwhelming to newcomers.

It's odd, because she doesn't know terribly much herself, but she feels like she should really offer help wherever she can. Pull even the tiniest amount of weight. She offers a sad smile and a slight shake of her head.]

You've been taken very far from home, I'm afraid...but it's quite nice here, typically.

[Typically. Most new islands herald disaster, though. Then things settle for a bit, then upheaval once more...You know. Typical.]

And the dreams you had before you woke here - with the rabbit? They were telling the truth. That was the Storyteller. They show everyone the same dream when they arrive.

Chara Dreemurr || OTA - The Beach

[achievementhunter]

[Like many occupants of these islands, Chara's day has not been the best. Their garden was assaulted by flying trash and ink that would take forever to clean away, if it hadn't already done significant damage to the flowers it had struck. Their gardening equipment is equally as ruined. They've been dumped into the temple of that stupid rabbit more times than they can count, and they look like someone dunked them into a vat of tar.

And that's when the thought strikes them to ask Taako for coconut oil. Lots and lots of coconut oil.

To anyone walking across the more remote areas of the beach to the north, a clearly outlined section of sand may give one pause. Stones mark its edges, with deliberately dragged lines marking out a large, admittedly wonky square in which the sand itself seems- shinier, than usual.

This is about the time when Chara comes bursting out of the treeline. Flying across the beach with hasty steps that kick up sand everywhere, they're followed closely by a tornado of very angry papers, some of which are- slightly charred. With a flaming knife in one hand, one really has to wonder- how could they possibly have wound up burnt? It's a mystery. We'll never know.

But as Chara gets closer to that square in the sand, they put on a burst of speed. Increasing the distance between them and the paper, they have just enough time to throw that flaming knife into the air and screech one, distinct word of defiance-]

YEET!

[Before their boot collides with the edge of said knife, sending it sailing into the middle of the swarm of paper- and onto the sand.

Which is coated in coconut oil.

The flames flare up incredibly quickly. Some of the unluckier papers are flying low enough to be caught in the blaze, a sacrifice to what is clearly Science. Others don't even get singed. Chara, for their part, lets out a loud boooo between out of breath, maddening laughter, turning on their heel and beginning to run once more.

Straight in your direction. Guess what, buddy pal chum? You're an accomplice now! Lucky you!]

[vagabone]

[...Well, that just happened.

God.

Damnit.

Kid.

Seems like an excellent way to be sure the flock of angry birds papers chase them forever and ever. And him too?? Is he the next distraction?? Wow, Chara, rude. He's scrambling to get out of the way as soon as he realizes, both to avoid the tornado and the kid about to bowl him over. The kid's not so tough to avoid--the ink sprayed his way is a different story. Oh nooo, there goes one funny shirt.]

Hey! Hey! They'll leave you alone if you're in the temple!