April Intro: Better Get to Digging

[lifeaftr_mods]

INTRO LOG: APRIL

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

Waking up to the gentle proddings of what appears to be very curious, sentient trees isn't the worst wake up call LifeAftr has to offer. For our newest arrivals, however, it may be a tad…odd.

Situated in the valley between two mountains, Elower is a scenic village filled with the friendly Roaka, tree-like beings that are rather peaceable and happy to assist those who have just arrived. I'’s a peaceful location for one to start their adventures - though, unfortunately, it doesn't stay peaceful for long.

Cahypdo: You'll Bury Me Low
Those who have explored the new island of Cahypdo in the last month will undoubtedly recall the series of quakes that shook the island throughout March. With the arrival of LifeAftr's newest adventurers comes Cahypdo's largest tremor to date, striking without warning and more than enough force to throw even the steadiest and sturdiest of your number to the ground. With a low rumble, the mountains heaped on either side of the island will start to shed an abundance of slag and debris, pouring down their slopes. Anyone who's scaling those peaks risks being flung bodily off them when the outpouring of shale comes roaring down those mountains, and anyone at the mountain bases risks being crushed beneath.

As one might expect, unsuspecting newcomers aren't all that have been shaken up. Though protected by netting and retaining walls, the cliffs around and above the village of Elower can only take so much pressure before giving way - a threshold that has been crossed entirely. With a sound like thunder, rocks fall.

Everyone dies? Only if you don't act quickly. Roaka housing is sturdy in build, enough to protect a decidedly less sturdy body from all but the heaviest of boulders. Hiding inside any of their village constructs built into the sides of the mountains will certainly save you from taking a new weight onto your shoulders. They will not, however, save you from being buried alive.

For those who become trapped inside any of those abodes, your options appear limited. Work to free yourself, or wait for help to arrive. Though, speaking of help, those outside may think to offer the Roaka a helping hand in getting their trapped people - and yours, at that - a few breaths of fresh air.

Before you suffocate.

Cahypdo: Stay Acting Brave
Such seismic activity will also stir up the local wildlife, of course. Those unfortunate enough to come across them will recognize the restless shark-dragon hybrids, hydrac, now prowling across the shorelines, while the wickedly fanged wabbits will also be far more frequent, traveling in larger numbers in the jungle and at the bases of the mountains. Taking care to avoid them would be wise - though another creature may make that venture much more difficult.

Lorbies have been unlocked in the bestiary! A strange mix between owl and serpent, the recent quake has clearly startled these usually reclusive creatures into the open. Alone, a lorby is a rather skittish animal, prone to hiding from most perceived threats. Useless for food due to the toxicity of their flesh, lorbies do have the potential to be tamed...but this comes with its own risks.

A lorby may be prone to flight rather than fight when encountered solo, but in groups, these feathery critters are far more hostile. A defensive lorby emits a piercing cry alone, but a group is an almost ear-piercing experience, capable of rendering the unfortunate unstable on their feet at best, and unconscious at worst. For the days that follow the severe earthquake that so rocked everyone's foundations, any hope for silence is lost in the infrequent bursts of almighty screeching by colonies of lorbies who have so rudely had their homes overturned and disturbed.

While the lorby is omnivorous, it may not think to take a bite at anything so much larger than them. That doesn't mean that conflict with these fluffy creatures won't attract something much more willing to take advantage of the fact that you may or may not have been reduced to a prone sack of meat. If something else does arrive, you best hope that it's a friendly face.

If you're interested in keeping a lorby for your own, bear LifeAftr's companion limit in mind - two per character, and no more. The lorby is omnivorous and can survive off of most odds and ends: insects, fruits, berries, critters it can dig up in the sand, and more. However, the process of trying to tame a lorby is not always successful. We recommend use of a d10, with the following guidelines:

Rolling a 10: Critical success! This lorby will love and adore you, and may even feel comfortable enough to drape itself along your neck like a beautiful, furry scarf, churring softly all the way.
Rolling 7-9: This lorby will prove high-strung and timid, even if safely befriended, and will take several weeks to warm up to you. But once it does, it's yours!
Rolling 2-6: Failure. The lorby enters a state of distress and starts screaming. Hope you brought earplugs, or you'll be snoozing for several long hours for your efforts.
Rolling a 1: Critical failure. Not only does the lorby start screaming, but its panic attracts a colony of its friends, and they all start screaming too.

Bear in mind that these are only guidelines; you are free to predetermine successes or failures as you'd like, presuming your character can sustain the companion! Our discord channel has a room for dice-rolls, if you prefer.

---

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

agent maine | ota — new arrival!

[bloodbathing]

i. wake up

[ Agent Maine is not a particularly imaginative person. Not when he's awake, and not when he's asleep. So when he dreams of a giant fucking rabbit called The Storyteller, he's pretty sure that it's the fault of painkillers or a fever — though he doesn't remember getting hurt or sick. In any case, it's entirely out of the norm, which is why he's so disoriented when he opens his eyes…

Then he sees trees prodding him, and Maine immediately jumps to two conclusions. The first: he's either been drugged, or he's losing his mind. The second: this hallucination needs to back the fuck off. Now.

The Freelancer snarls, low and barely human-sounding, and shoves himself to his feet. Fully armored, he stands at 7'4" and is almost of a height with the curious Roaka. The tree-creature begins to back off; Maine reaches over his shoulder for the weapon at his back, though whether he intends to use it or just wants it in hand is anyone's guess. ]


ii. bury me low

[ There's not a whole lot that can knock someone as solid as Maine off his feet. The earthquake does the job. He staggers and hits the ground hard. Waits until the shaking ceases before attempting to stand.

Maine's been thrown to the ground a few too many times recently. Advanced as his armor is, that shit still leaves bruises.

Once he's moving again, Maine gravitates toward the fallen rocks more out of curiosity than a desire to save the day. But if he happens to hear the voice of someone trapped, he'll start dragging boulders out of the way with what seems to be frightening ease. ]


iii. repairs

[ Once the chaos from the quakes has calmed, Maine can be found trying to fix his armor's heads-up display. He's removed his helmet and is holding it in his hands, exposing a shaved head and a mildly annoyed expression on his usually stoic face.

It's not that he doesn't know how to maintain his armor. He knows it like the back of his hand, or maybe even better. He just can't figure out what the problem is. ]


iv. wildcard

(( ooc: go nuts! preference for present tense, will match brackets or prose. please read maine's info & permissions before tagging, since he comes with some warnings. if you'd like to plot something specific, check here for ways to contact me. ))

iii

[lightlessfuture]

[ It's not the first time they've seen someone with a shell like this, but it's exceedingly rare for them to see such people take them off. So, naturally, they're fascinated - especially since this person is incredibly tall. Plus, unlike many of the other shells they've seen of this type, this one is black and white.

They're enough of a child that any superficial similarities draw their attention. So, Maine will easily feel like he's being watched while he contemplates his helmet; the Knight isn't making much of an attempt to hide themselves from view.

They just...peek out from behind a nearby tree, and stare. They're not even blinking (mostly because they're, uh, incapable of it in the first place). It might be a little unsettling. ]

[bloodbathing]

[ The Freelancer does indeed feel like he's being watched. He raises his head to scan his surroundings, dark eyes intense beneath a furrowed brow, and he sees … a thing. A tiny thing. A thing with a bone-white face and gaping black holes for eyes.

What the fuck.

Maine blinks and stares back. Maybe it's a kid wearing a mask…? A really small kid, sure, but it wouldn't be the weirdest thing to happen to him today. He tilts his head slightly in curiosity and a silent question: what do they want? ]

[lightlessfuture]

[ Bolstered by his neutral reaction (it's not actively hostile, so it's good enough) they emerge from their hiding place and approach. It's made even clearer up close how tiny the Knight is compared to Maine, barely scraping two feet tall.

They can't reach his helmet - and it's impolite, they've learned, to just touch people's belongings without asking. So they point to the helmet, and then pat at their own mask-face.

Whether they're trying to indicate look, it's similar or just that they're interested in it, or something else altogether, is unclear. But it's clearly caught their attention. ]

[bloodbathing]

[ As talented as Maine is with nonverbal communication, he's still not entirely sure what the kid — or what he thinks is a kid — means by their gestures. It takes time to learn each individual's physical expressions, just as it takes time to learn their tone of voice. But Maine decides to take a shot at figuring out what they mean.

The Freelancer flips his helmet over and slides it back onto his head. Looks down at the tiny child through his gold visor, then pats his helmet and points to their mask in turn.

See? They're twins. ]

iii

[eudaimonikos]

[Michael is initially attracted by the sci-fi armor - always worth investigating, in his opinion - but, oh, it looks like it's maybe not working.]

You having technology problems, too?

[bloodbathing]

[ Maine glances up from his work, spotting an older man that he doesn't recognize. Good posture; no obvious weapons; confident enough to speak to the massive Freelancer unprompted. The last is a little startling, though it only shows in a slight delay before Maine nods an affirmative. ]

Should work.

[ His voice is deep and rough enough to sound like a growl, but the words are clear. As is his annoyance with the situation. ]

[eudaimonikos]

Yeah. My phone's on the fritz.

[Michael seems utterly casual about this encounter, regardless of how physically intimidating the other guy is. He swipes up in the air like it's an iPad, which does in fact summon a sort of holographic light screen. Which, yes, does seem to be kinda glitchy-looking.]

Usually gets great transdimensional reception...

[bloodbathing]

[ The Freelancer blinks in surprise as a screen seems to pop up out of nowhere. Maybe this man has a projector on him somewhere? That's the only explanation Maine can think of — and it certainly makes a lot more sense than the next words out of the stranger's mouth. ]

Transdimensional?

[ Repeating the word, just in case he heard it incorrectly. ]

i

[counterblows]

Woah, woah, woah - !

[This is how the morning finds Agent Washington: hurtling out at a dead sprint across the open expanse between himself and the Roaka that's now shuffling back from the bleached white hulk that he'd have to be blind to miss. The gleam of the sun off the dome of gold. The dizzying hitch in his lungs - ]

[It was Maine, in the dream. It was Maine.]

[Whether it's him or...or not, now, Wash needs to get there as quickly as humanly fucking possible.]

Hey! Hey!

[Can't tell if he's shouting to defuse the situation, or to get someone's attention, or even if it's to get the Roaka's attention or Maine's, assuming it is him. He doesn't know yet. He'll figure it out when he gets there.]

[bloodbathing]

[ Whatever Wash's intentions, he succeeds in one thing: all the shouting gets Maine's attention. Part of it, at least; Maine's not taking his eyes off of the tree-creature. But he hears the urgency in his friend's voice as the other man closes in. Hears the pounding of armored boots as Wash sprints towards him. And, despite the instincts that urge Maine to attack the hallucination, the big Freelancer hesitates.

He's not in his right mind. (Obviously.) And Wash wouldn't scream for his attention as he's about to attack something without a damn good reason.

So Maine stands still, one hand still wrapped around the handle of the Brute Shot, and he twitches his head in Wash's direction. Not enough to see Wash yet — Maine still refuses to take his eyes off of the sentient tree — but enough to acknowledge that he's listening. ]

[counterblows]

[Still no way of telling which one it is - if it's his teammate, his friend, or the thing that was made of him, a fractured gestalt consciousness that moved in on Maine's. He's hesitating. That's a good sign.]

[Wash skids to a halt, and then curses himself, privately, for the stupidity of it. There's no hiding it now: the subtle differences in the make of his armor that set him apart from the Washington that either Maine or the Meta would know.]

[Well. Fine. Cross that bridge when they get to it.]

[He raises one hands, palm out, as if that might steady things of its own accord.]

Maine?

[bloodbathing]

[ Déjà vu doesn't hit Maine often. He tends to remains firmly focused on the present, setting aside anything that isn't relevant to the here and now. It helps him stay focused during combat. Keeps him from getting bogged down by bullshit. But right now, déjà vu hits him like a punch to the face.

Maine tears his eyes away from the tree-creature and looks at Wash, head cocked in confusion. Why is his name a question? (Again?) He's not exactly an easy person to imitate. Even if someone got ahold of his armor, it's not as though they could duplicate his size.

And speaking of armor: the fuck happened to Wash's?

Unable to puzzle it out, the big Freelancer uses his free hand to gesture to himself. Feels that sense of déjà vu press in all around him.

"Obviously."

He's done this before. He's certain that he has. ]

and ii

[hyperlit]

[The Drifter's in a bit of trouble.]

[They don't stop. They don't stop for anything - not bruises, not blood, and not even, on plenty of occasions, death. They're also exceedingly fragile, which means that enough things knocking into them can all but break them to pieces.]

[They were doing just fine dodging the worst of the debris from crashing down into them. But they hadn't moved quickly enough for one, and now...well, now they're pinned. One heavy beam has crashed down over their leg and rendered it inert, and they're having difficulty pulling free. They don't call for help. They don't make a sound at all, in fact. They just crouch there, trying to tug their leg free of its entrapment for several moments at a time before breaking to wheeze, one hand cupping around the reddish cowl wrapped about their mouth as they double over in a brief but plainly excruciating coughing fit.]

[When someone starts drawing near to them, the Drifter goes stock still out of reflex...or tries to. Immediately, their shoulders quake in betrayal, and they start to cough again, even as they try to pick out where the eyes are on this person's...head. Perhaps the face is one big eye? One massive, golden eye, staring directly at them, devoid of iris or pupil or sclera?]

[The Drifter splits their attention - between trying to yank themself free, and to keep an eye on this...approaching person. Whoever this is.]

[bloodbathing]

[ Under normal circumstances, spotting the Drifter would be much easier for Maine. He'd have the help of his HUD feeding him information, and the movement would register much faster. As it stands, Maine nearly misses the silent humanoid — right up until they begin coughing, that is.

It's irritating, having his equipment malfunction like this. Feels like he's half-blind without all the extra visual input. For now, Maine pushes the irritation aside. Focuses instead on the trapped, trembling person before him.

Is it fear or pain making them shake that way? Maine's not sure. Decides that it doesn't really matter. Either way, they clearly need help with that beam.

So the massive Freelancer approaches, not bothering to take his time to try and make it a less potentially frightening experience. Without a word, he squats down once he reaches the beam and grips it firmly. Then, with any sign of strain concealed by his armor, Maine just ... stands up, taking the beam with him. ]

[hyperlit]

[They process it quickly, even if it catches them off guard, even now - the immediacy of it. People see them hurt, see them trapped, and apparently do not see any reason not to help. A far cry from how their kind were treated, in Buried Time. Their blue skin marks them as other. As something generally unwanted.]

[With no voice to cry for help, they expect it even less.]

[The one-eyed creature, whoever this is, is strong, stronger by far than the Drifter. Simply reaching under, grasping the beam, and...lifting it, with an ease that would be terrifying if it weren't in their favor.]

[Still, they waste no time. They lurch forward, freed of their constraint. Standing is difficult, thanks to the injury done to their leg. They move at a pronounced limp. This will be an irritant, unless they can see it fixed.]

[They turn back to their one-eyed rescuer. Unwarranted help deserves repayment.]

[The Drifter does not speak. Instead, the object bobbing at their shoulder chirps quietly, a little thing about the size of a soda can, and projects a translucent pink rectangle - an airborne HUD where text flickers up on display:]

$?

ii

[everylittlesecret]

[Ever hear of someone talking to themselves? With the boulders out of the way, Nari simply blinks at this new person. She seems to be... perfectly okay. How? Well, that's a little secret of hers. Though the rocks around her seem to be held back by compacted dirt.]

Sup? Can I help you with something?

[That's some interesting armor you got there.]

[bloodbathing]

[ That's a remarkably calm reaction to being dug out of rubble. Maine blinks behind his visor, surprised. Glances at the compacted dirt, helmet tilting slightly in muted curiosity. The hell happened there?

Realizing that she may not have been trapped at all, Maine grunts out: ]

You good?

[ His already deep, rough voice is made more growl-like by his armor, but the words are distinct. ]

[everylittlesecret]

[Nope. Not trapped. Just curious to see how it would feel to be trapped under a bunch of rubble after an earthquake.

That is a very rough voice and she's reminded of some patients with vocal trauma from her dad's doctors office.]

Yup. Just chillin'. Thanks for moving the rocks, though. Would've taken me a while.

ii, arrives to bug you in Another game

[lesbeau]

[Beau is pretty good at not getting her ass kicked. It's a solid 25% of her talent in the category of Not Dying, which she's managed decently alright in so far (though her track record in Lifeaftr leaves something to be desired). That said, as fast as she is it's difficult to outrun an earthquake, and Beau finds herself trapped... but not really in a crumbling building.

Rather, Beau's torso is exposed, as is her arms and head. Her entire lower half though seems to be trapped under an incredible amount of dirt. She's in the process of trying to dig herself out, but Maine makes himself well known, so she waves a hand his direction.]

Hey! Big ass armor guy! Can you just pull me the hell out of this so I don't have to keep digging with my hands like an idiot?

[Most people would say thanks there. Too bad, huh.]

/claps!

[bloodbathing]

[ That is a truly impressive amount of dirt. Maine pauses when he's called — there's no question that it's him she's calling; it's an apt description — and remains still for a second, just looking at all that soil. Wonders how much pressure it's putting on her lower body, and how she managed to avoid being completely covered. He'd call it luck, but there's really nothing lucky about being half-buried by an earthquake.

After observing the situation for a moment, Maine shrugs and makes his way over. Makes his way to her head, looming even when he bends at the waist and holds out his hands for her to grab. ]

Brace yourself.

[ That's a hell of a deep, rough voice, but his meaning is clear. If she allows her arms to go limp, he could wind up hurting her when he pulls. ]

\o/

[lesbeau]

[It was 20% luck, 80% monk shit. Evasion is her thing, but there's only so much you can do against a mountain of shit falling on you. She made it away from the rocks and debris, but a ton of wet fucking dirt hitting her as mud and drying into Not Mud has made going tough. It sucks, actually, so she's pretty glad he's actually stopping.

She wastes no time and grabs him with a surprising amount of strength for how small she must look right now.]

Yeah yeah I know the gist, I'm fine.

[Beau squares out her shoulders, tightens her core, and just makes herself as much of a rock as possible. It's apropos for the landslide, too.]

bury me low

[technicallytechnically]

[Somewhere, there is a voice, and there is someone trapped, and Maine is saving them.

Jester is not that person.

Instead, she happens to be somewhere nearby, humming a tune that definitely seems improvised, but with the confidence of one who has performed it a thousand times over. This humming eventually overlaps with the Roaka's surprised exclamations at Maine's display of easy strength, which is about when she notices the entire scene playing out and looks up, mouth still attached to the straw of her coconut milk.

She really does not look like she just recently experienced a massive, land-shifting earthquake. Nor does she look that surprised at Maine's appearance. Instead, she looks a little excited.]

Oh! There's someone in there!?

[And, tossing her half-consumed coconut milk (served fresh in its original coconut!) to the side, she starts helping him lift big ol' rocks out of this little helpless individual's doorway.

She is about two feet shorter than Maine, and solid in build for her size, but her strength is still surprising to most who've met her.]

[bloodbathing]

[ At first, Maine pays no attention to the voice behind him. So what if someone's surprised? He's going to keep on moving rocks, digging out whoever (or whatever) is trapped. But then the woman joins him in moving boulders, and Maine stops. And stares.

One: what the fuck?

Two: she's not even wearing armor. How the hell is she moving these things?

Three: again, what the fuck.

The renewed shouts of the Roaka drag Maine's attention off of the very blue, very horned, very strong woman beside him. The Freelancer turns back to his work and resumes digging. He can figure out what's going on with this strange stranger afterward. ]

[technicallytechnically]

[Jester grunts a bit as she moves boulders, but doesn't seem all that tired by it. Since Maine seems content to continue digging out the trapped Roaka, Jester is glad to be helpful.

Thanks to the doubled efforts, there's enough space cleared for the smaller Roaka to start to crawl out of their earthen prison.]

Hey little guys! Did you get hurt? It's a good thing this big dude was here, huh!

[As she just... casually yeets a boulder off to the side.]