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.

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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.

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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!

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LOGS ● OOC ● STORIES ● MAIN NAVIGATION

( CODED BY BOOTYCALL )

Comments

[postictal]

Sure.

[He keeps waiting for that recognition that he now knows won't come. It's just that instinct still weighs in his chest, the expectation for something that goes beyond what ironclad logic should suggest.]

[But sooner or later, it's going to start to get obvious. More obvious. Tim sighs. Might as well get this over with.]

You don't remember me.

[ratsinadaze]

Thanks.

[The blanket does help to get some of the saltwater out of her eyes and off her arms. Tim's question comes as she's patting down her front, and she visibly slows to a halt. Gobbet's brow furrows briefly, mentally running through faces and names that don't match his, before she looks up at him with a blank expression.]

Nope. If I shot at you or stole your shit, it's nothing personal. [Shrug.] Girl's gotta eat.

[postictal]

[You punched me, but I was being a dick at the time.]

[He doesn't say it. Of course he doesn't say it. He just shrugs, and averts his gaze. It's difficult to look at her, but - this isn't a first for him. People come and go. Sometimes, they don't happen to remember that they were here. So. New version.]

[A fresh start he doesn't deserve.]

You were here before, once. Or someone who looked like you. I'm just - warning you ahead of time. People might recognize you.

[ratsinadaze]

Oh.

[Her nose wrinkles a bit at the thought of not remembering something as significant as being dumped in an alternate dimension. It's going to be tricky, then, making contacts. She'll have to lay low and see who reacts to her presence. See who she fucked over the first time around, if anyone.

It's not that she feels any guilt about whatever alternate/past her might have done. She's sure she had a good reason. But it does complicate things.]

If you're warning me, then I'm guessing not all of those people will like that I'm, uh. 'Back'. [She extends the damp blanket back towards him.] Hope I didn't screw you over too bad. You seem alright.

[postictal]

You didn't.

[He shrugs. Like she didn't deck him across the face. Like he didn't implicitly encourage her to open up and then shit all over that, immediately after. It's hard to say if he's telling an outright lie, or simply doesn't hold it against her. Maybe both.]

It might be confusing at first, is all I'm saying.

[He accepts the blanket, bundles it up again, and hesitates. Better wait for it to dry.]

[ratsinadaze]

I'll keep it in mind. Thanks.

[For what it's worth, if she knew, she might apologize. Might. Even Gobbet can recognize when she's overreacted and even if she won't necessarily feel bad, she might own up to it. Especially if she simply doesn't remember the circumstances that lead up to it.

Her attention briefly turns to the sky, where pages flutter on a non-existent breeze, then back to Tim.]

You look like you've been here a while. [Got that 'God I'm tired of being stuck on a bizzaro island' vibe going for him.] People come and go like that a lot?

[postictal]

Kinda, yeah.

[An answer to both questions. He scratches at the scruff that's begun to accumulate at the lower part of his face. He keeps forgetting to shave. It's hard to stay on top of a thing like that when everything else is...]

[It's a low priority, is all.]

Over a year, now. Sometimes you see familiar faces coming and going.

[ratsinadaze]

Huh.

[She puts her hands on her hips, scowls a bit. Sounds like bad luck brought her back, then, if this kind of thing just Happens sometimes. Sounds like the same kind of bad luck keeps Tim tethered here. Sounds like this whole island is made of bad luck.

Gobbet swats absently at a piece of paper that has decided to inspect her. It doesn't relent.]

Well, I've never been stuck on an island for over a year - not that I remember anyway - but it sounds like a long time to be stuck somewhere. So, sorry about that.

[postictal]

[He shrugs. He's been in worse places, and this is far from the longest one time he's been anywhere. He doesn't dig into it. He watches Gobbet try and wave away a fragment of paper, and shifts his weight slightly.]

It'll leave you alone in a second. If you don't bother it, it won't bother you.

[A change of subject is better than getting anywhere personal. He remembers what happens, when you end up getting into the personal. He'd like to delay that for as long as he can.]