lifeaftr | May Intro: I'll Be Scrolling Through Your Shrine

INTRO LOG: MAY

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

With potentially odd dreams connecting you to people you've never met, in addition to the dream-lecture only recently received from a horned rabbit, LifeAftr surely doesn't need to try to be disconcerting upon arrival - and yet, it somehow continues to go the extra mile. While new arrivals will find themselves upon the now (mostly) safe shores of Ensō, there is one, small problem with where, precisely, they've happened to appear.

Chamber of Glyphs: It Was Written On Your Wall
Within the temple of the Storyteller, one may find a very special room. Betwixt the reality of waking and dreams, the Chamber of Glyphs appears to hold many unique features that allow it to appear wherever one may seek it, both in waking and sleep.

It is not, however, a good room to arrive within. Those seeking out the newest members of LifeAftr's adventuring party - and those who are simply looking to draw - will be greeted, upon entering the Chamber of Glyphs, with the most alarming sight. The small pile of backpacks, unattended, might be the first thing you notice, as well as the fact that they all seem to be adorned with names of those you might not know. Or the names of those that you do, but haven't seen in some time. Perhaps you met them in a dream...

And those of you who are newly arrived, you'll be able to see them searching. Unable to break the barrier between you with sound, you might feel the urge to wave your hands for attention, attracting searching eyes to the walls. Walls that you are now a part of. Hopefully this reduction to the second dimension is only temporary.

Those who took part in April's Test Drive Meme may have the benefit of familiarity, for what is etched onto the walls of the Chamber are never lacking life, regardless of the matter used to draw, paint, or sketch those contents.

With maneuverability somewhat akin to a sidescroller - always left or right, up and down, but never outward - the variety of scenes, animals, places, objects, and more are simply all the more to your advantage. Leap to the vantage point necessary to be noticed, as your fellow adventurers may be able to help you out of this predicament with a simple offer of their hand to tug you off the wall. It's an easy solution to your predicament, at least! All they need to do is take your hand to free you from your two-dimensional containment.

If it proves more difficult...well, at the least they know you're there to point out thanks to a very tired Storyteller, who will be certain to let anyone in the vicinity know that you're in need of help within the Chamber of Glyphs, before one of the many, many monsters that have been scribbled onto stone lay claim to you instead.

What kind of monsters, you ask? All of them, of course.

Ensō: Rain Hell
But maybe you don't wake up written on the walls! Maybe you're just relieved to get unstuck from those walls and need a breath of fresh air. Or maybe you don't have any reason to go poking around in search of new arrivals at all. That does not mean, however, that you won't be encountering a new arrival of your own in the interim.

The sky is clouded over and gray, despite the sun overhead and the generally warm weather. The nights are filmed over with a screen of pale dust. This has little to do with the forecast and more to do with the volcanic eruption that occurred just a few weeks prior, on another island in the archipelago. You don't need to worry about the nature of the ash still drifting on the wind currents - aside from the more standard obstruction of sight and airways, it is, at this point, more or less perfectly ordinary. Though if you've got some fragile lungs, you might want to stay out of it as much as possible.

More important is the creature that the hazy cast of ash and dust has coaxed out of hiding. Perhaps you've heard of it in folklore: resplendent with dark gray, furry wings, and glistening red eyes. Or, perhaps, you're less fortunate, and you've no cultural experience regarding the strange monster known colloquially only as...Mothman.

At over seven feet tall and with a wingspan of about fifteen feet, the Mothman makes for far more fearsome a sight than it does a threat. For all intents and purposes, despite the devilish red of its glowing eyes and its large, hairy stature, the Mothman is ultimately quite harmless. It does, however, tend to inspire paranoia in fear in the hearts and minds of those it encounters. And this smokescreen in the air has created the perfect environment for it to hunt.

It doesn't want your flesh, or your bones, or anything so base. It only wants your mind, in a sense; your fear and whatever primal terror it may ignite by preying on your paranoia. It will stalk you, rustling the leaves behind you, snapping twigs to your left, allowing you a glimpse of bright crimson eyes before dispersing into the surrounding, ashy murk. The good news is that once it has you scared, it has no intention of sticking around - and its wings makes it incredibly fast, when it wants to be. Anyone who attempts to attack it directly will discover just how speedy it can be, assuming that the air from its wingbeats don't end up pinning you flat to the ground from the sheer force.

The Mothman can be killed, most likely...but there are a lot of you, and only one cryptid for an entire island. It's not likely to want to stay in one place if it feels it's outnumbered, or that it's about to be attacked by someone who isn't so easily stricken by the fear and suspicion it endeavors to ignite. Those who wish to escape it can at least take heart in the fact that the Mothman abhors open spaces, largely preferring the sanctuary of woodland and greenery; all one has to do is reach Ensō's shores to be largely safe from its influence.

Though you could try killing it too, of course. If you wanted.

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 )

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[Tim lurches up, and Frisk lurches back - just a reflex, their coiled nerves giving a jolt. Once Chara guides them all back together, though, Frisk feels something in them unwind. Just a little. The three of them together is a safety that they know.]

[It's the one they care about, at least.]

[But it's not the kind of safety that matters right now, with that awful and familiar crawl of bones down their back; and so Frisk is the second to let go, letting Chara pull them up by the arm with a solemn nod. Their eyes are scanning the dark treeline around them, wide and alert enough to show some of the rust in their eye.]

[Without breaking their line of sight from the trees, Frisk gives a meaningful tug to Tim's shirt. Come on. All the determination in the world won't help the fact that they can't carry him.]

[Was there ever any question?]

[No. Not really. He doesn't lead; he follows, better than anyone. He's been floundering. If he could claw his way out of the static that's been made of his brain (that's always been his brain) he could latch onto the relief scrabbling for purchase.]

[Smaller hands in his own, and a tug against his shirt. Come on, get up, make this matter. They're real. He can feel them, solid, and it dislodges something in his chest, a spooled-up wad of tension he knew was there but didn't want to acknowledge.]

[He gets up.]

[His throat still feels stripped, and swallowing is still painful. Moving is disorienting, the crackling feedback of his own lingering panic sweeping up against his stomach like ocean waves. He moves anyway, because you don't say "no" to forces of nature.]

[Nor would he want to.]

How long?

[Have they been back? Have they been gone?]

[He's been so shit at keeping track of time, lately.]

I was hoping you could answer that, Timothy. [Is the initial, dry response. How are they supposed to know- they were dead, apparently. Again.

Or as close as the universe ever feels like allowing the two of them to get to such a state. The lift of their chin is a weapon all of its own- combined with the level, almost amused arch in their tone. A force of nature begins to walk, tugging its companions along behind it.

Even the eyes looming overhead are powerless to stop such a creature.]

We awoke a few hours ago, if that's the question you're asking. How long we've been away is for those who still believe that time is linear.

[So basically anyone but the three of them.]

[Frisk finally breaks their gaze away from the surrounding trees to redirect their full attention on the conversation. Despite Chara's earlier assurances, Frisk shakes their head and says, apologetically:]

I think... too long.

[Long enough for it to hurt Tim, if he's asking them how long with edges in his voice that belong to more than whatever is haunting him now. It's not something the three of them can sort out at a time like this, though, so it's swiftly pushed back in the queue once again, and Frisk turns their head slightly towards Chara.]

We have to go.

[They lift their free hand and set it briefly against their chest - then pull it outward, and the soft, red glow of their soul manifests behind their palm. They look to Tim again.]

Would this help?

[Right. Right. Can't close his eyes to focus - they have to keep moving. But, breathe. Breathe. Remember back.]

A month...I think it might've been a month - maybe shorter -

[He remembers the volcano. The realization that people, particularly kids, were missing and it sent a jolt shivering through his chest: do you know where they are? Worrying about them is second nature. It shouldn't be. They can take care of themselves, and they have so many people who already worry about them now, so what point is there in this, in him, in - ]

[There's a red glow warming near him and he blinks, jaw momentarily going slack.]

...what?

Hm.

[It probably will. And it's vicious, the urge to snatch that offer up for themself. Sink back into the safety of a connection that's known far better than anything else in their life-- except Tim requires it. He needs it more. As does Frisk.

The urge is swallowed with difficulty.]

Resonance, Timothy. I'd suggest accepting the offer, if you feel amenable to the idea.

[But also- they slow down. Resonance isn't something that one should do whilst walking, not at the start. Not unless one wishes to walk into a tree.]

Quickly, please.

Only if you want to.

[They add that part softly, but emphatically. Tim knows the deal. He's seen the two of them do it a dozen times. You have to want it, you have to be willing to part with not just part of yourself but as much of yourself as there is. Everything. Sometimes it's not a good thing.]

[Sometimes it's still better than being alone.]

[Their mouth thins, and a soft, tinny hum echoes from the SOUL, accompanied by a pulse of pink light. It's not something you can do quickly, but if they do pull it off, it'll give them some time back. Maybe more than Frisk is hoping for.]

[But Tim has to want it.]

I'm not afraid. And you'll feel us here with you. No matter what.

[He's seen them do it, sure, but he just...he's...]

[He's not part of that. He's not supposed to be. Right? He's just some - he's some guy, he's a cover story, he's a convenience, he's a coverup, he's someone who forced himself into their lives under the pretense of protection and he's all but obsolete now and the only time it's happened was when circumstances forced it to.]

[He's a liability. He's a risk. The last time he and Chara...it was a mess. It was a mess, and he used them, the way everyone in their life used them.]

Y-you...trust that I...?

[That he won't fuck it up?]

[The pinkish light tickles the edges of their fingers.]

[He's never known how it feels. If both parties...if everyone involved wants it.]

May Intro: I'll Be Scrolling Through Your Shrine

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