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 )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Well, he's talking, which is a good sign. He's not the sort to tell people to indiscriminately shut up, so if talking makes it easier for Klaus to get by, then by all means - chatter away. For once, no one's going to complain about it.]

[He can hear the waves. Smell the salt on the air. This isn't much - you can hear the waves almost anywhere on Ensō. But he's getting close. They're getting close.]

You ever been to the beach?

[Idle small talk. As if he's ever been any good at that. The moth-like wings flare up in the corner of his vision again and he flinches and shuts his eyes.]

[The small talk is appreciated. Anything to concentrate on other than—

Klaus catches the glimpse of those wings too, and he stumbles a bit, barely catching himself and forcing his legs to keep trudging along. His voice is shaky.]

Maybe. No, yeah, I'm pretty sure. I remember seeing it, don't remember going or... what happened after. At least twice.

[Sometimes people are going on road trips and sometimes you invite yourself along and sometimes you really don't remember much of any of it. You know, as you do.]

Seems like a nice place to be.

It can get old pretty fast if you're stuck here. But it's not bad.

[He'd never seen the ocean before he ended up here. Alabama wasn't strictly speaking landlocked, but he never really had the means to travel. Never had the clearance to, growing up, and once he was an adult - where would he go? Why would he go?]

[At least you can say he's gotten some traveling done now, huh?]

Look, see? We're almost there.

[Waves, visible between the trees. Stretches of sand, white and glistening.]

[Klaus is from the opposite end of the spectrum, where he couldn't travel growing up, not without clearance to even leave the house, and then when he got fed up and left he dove headfirst into an impulsive lifestyle with unreputable folks who see no harm in dragging people across state lines no matter how sober they are or aren't at the time.

He's been around, he just doesn't remember most of it.]

Can't be worse than the fucking jungle.

[It's the first time he readily admits he is extremely bothered by their current surroundings. The first time he actually lets genuine distress enter his tone.

But he moves on quickly. Literally, in that his speed picks up the instant Tim points out the beach visible between the trees.]

God, look at that. Dibs on the first beachfront hammock. I'm gonna get wet sand in my ass and I'm gonna love it.

[Doesn't like woodland. Well, Tim can relate. He hates it, but - he feels safer there than he does almost anywhere else. A sick leftover instinct he can't entirely shake. Lucky for him, huh.]

[He can feel the pressure of those red-coal eyes heavy on his back as they take their first steps out from the cover of the jungle, into the open air, and he breathes in, a slow pull of the littoral air that's begun to taste familiar thanks to what's coming around to be years of acclimatization.]

[His heart-rate isn't slowing, but at least it can't sneak up on them out here.]

Some people do have hammocks. Not sure there's any up for grabs anymore.

[Nothing about the jungle is safe. Between the heat and the trees, trees that are so easy to hide behind, to hide traps around, to catch someone unexpecting. Usually Klaus. Or someone Klaus is with.

He's never not paranoid in the jungle, and he didn't need Mothman's help, but it's all just compounding to make it much, much worse.

So when they finally breach the threshold of the sand, the sound of the waves drown out everything else. The tenseness in his entire body releases all at once, and he just sort of flops down onto the sand.]

I'll steal a hammock then. I'm past caring now. If I get kicked out that's a problem for future Klaus.

I wouldn't. There's not really any place to get kicked out to. You're on an island.

[So it's more or less facing the consequences of your own actions, all the time. It's not great, but there's really no chance of avoiding people you'd really rather avoid. Also not great.]

Well, a bunch of islands. That's what this place is. Archipelago.

I do a lot of things most people wouldn't do. It's why I'm so lovable.

[Really, this just makes it sound like there would be fewer consequences for stealing a hammock. You are failing at making this sound unappetizing, Tim.]

Good to know there's nothing between us and... the void. Just trees and ocean. Maybe we should just blow up the jungle. Just... pwff.

[He makes a lazy explosion gesture with his hand, still lying on the beach. He's also entirely not serious, and it's clear in his tone of voice. He's a little loopy right now, actually. And far be it from him to avoid leaning into that post-attack loopiness to take the edge off.]

Better not.

[There's not a lot of commitment to Tim's tone, but he does slide down to sit on the sand, putting his head briefly in his hands before running them up through his hair. He can still feel the eyes on the back of his neck. Or maybe it's just psychosomatic. Paranoia leaping down his spine, catching him off guard. It's been known to happen.]

[He's an easy mark.]

People've set fire to the jungle before. Doesn't usually end well.

May Intro: I'll Be Scrolling Through Your Shrine

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