May Adventure: I Want to Go Where Everyone Goes

[lifeaftr_mods]

NEW ISLAND: IO

Who: Everyone!
What: Io appears!
When: May 10th and onward
Where: Io
Warnings: The possibility of drug use and alcohol may come up. Otherwise, tag as you go!

Things Are Shaping Up to Be Pretty Odd
As of May 10th, the mana pools on Ensō and its islets will now allow for travel to Io. Though you could always opt for sailing, if you wanted. As we mentioned on the island's introductory post, no exploration is necessary! The island is small enough and easily traversed, and with a minimum of dangers, you have plenty of time to visit each of Io's six draws.

The temple is the easiest place to get in touch with the local avatar, though you can contact them just as easily by striking up a conversation with just about any honeybee you see in the vicinity. The lazy drone of them can be heard all over the island, though they're quite complacent, and not at all prone to disturbing adventurers. The temple itself is twined with grapevines and smothered with inlays of rubies, proud and sparkling. Inside, it smells of honey and wine, and seems to exhibit a naturally contented glow. Just outside, numerous fruit trees sprout all about the temple's courtyard, to be sampled at your leisure.

The bathhouses are located just south of the temple, and are prime locations for some rest and relaxation. Bathe, swim, take a spa day! There are innumerable rooms to do exactly that, and more space than be reasonably filled by some sixty-or-seventy people. Or maybe you're interested in getting absolutely sloshed instead. The vineyard is perfect for that, located to Io's northeast on one of its long, tapering peninsulas. Rows upon rows of grapevines lead up to the crown jewel of the region: a proud winery with enough goods to satisfy even the most parched.

For those less keen on mind-altering substances, the tea gardens are a far safer bet. They practically emanate tranquility, with their soft paper lanterns, thickets of tea trees, and a tea room with a seemingly endless supply of every supplement to your drink that you could ask for. And if none of the teabags or tea leaves in there suit your preference, you're free to wander about the gardens yourself and sample whatever you like.

The Honeycomb at the island's heart is much more akin to a play structure or jungle gym than anything else, but its interlocking passageways and erratic, hexagonal architecture aren't for nothing. It's an ideal spot for play or exercise, if you're into that kind of thing - or for getting positively sick on honey sticks.

The campsites ensure that you don't truly have to depart from Io, if you don't want to. Tents full of chairs and cushions and blankets make it a wonderful place to spend the night if you're so inclined, and the lockers full of food and drink are assurances that you won't go hungry. And with all these massive bonfires and firework cannons, why would you ever want to leave?

---

Welcome to the island of Io! Please, enjoy your stay and make full use of this island's many faculties! For further information in regards to the island, or plotting, the following links may prove handy:

[ ♆ ] OOC info and introductory post
[ ♆ ] Io on the Locations page

---

LOGS ● OOC ● STORIES ● MAIN NAVIGATION

( CODED BY BOOTYCALL )

Comments

[postictal]

[What a shocker.]

Would they make you feel better?

[journalname]

I...cannot imagine that it would.

[Historically, it has not.]

But I am not sure that should be the purpose of apologizing? [Although if it would make Toriel angry and him...probably worse, then maybe there's no point at all? It doesn't seem right, though, to just not.]

[postictal]

You have any idea if anything would?

[It's not exactly an easy solution kind of problem, but there's no harm in asking. Just for its own sake.]

tw: suicidal ideation

[journalname]

[...it was easier after Beacon. When he was dust to the Underground and everyone he'd ever known, and could just go on being so. When he could move forward with friends, and never be called King again.

In retrospect, that feeling wouldn't have lasted forever. In a single day, they discovered that none of their number were truly gone, and found a way to escape without anyone having to die. Of course he felt light. Sooner or later, the weight of his sins would have caught up to him. No matter how far he ran, he could not escape himself.

But he'd have had Alex, and Rin, and everyone else. Here, he has...the constant reminder that his family hates him? Friends who are only there because he hasn't told them what he's done? And, of course, still himself.

He, who's selfish enough to even think of comparing the two. As if he somehow deserved that kind of support.

His death has only ever been an improvement. The Underground is better off now with only Toriel. The islands - Chara and Frisk - would be too. But even if the Storyteller would allow that, he can't abandon the other patients. They're the only people he knows who wouldn't be happier for losing him.

Asgore takes a long sip of his tea.]

No. I do not think so.

[postictal]

[You know how this story ends.]

[Well. He does, in a sense. He has flashes, glimmers, impressions. He knows that Asgore features so fleetingly across the different ways that timeline after timeline has unfurled. And in almost all of them, something terrible happens. Or he makes it happen.]

[He can't gracefully bring that up. There's no decent way to say - well, hey, by the way, I bumped SOULs with both your kids and now I have some of their memories, no big - and not raise a thousand, million questions. It's not like he or Chara or Asriel ever consented to what happened to them, the memories and impressions they ended up sharing, but it leaves him with slightly more knowledge to handle this than it should.]

[Not for the first time, Tim wishes he were coming at it blind.]

So what's your plan? Just...hope you end up leaving this place someday?

[journalname]

Is that not everyone's plan, to some extent?

[Yeah, basically, that is the plan. Just keep going and try to cause as little damage as possible until that happens.]

[postictal]

[Tim shrugs, and glances away.]

Not really. [It's not his. He doesn't want to go anywhere if it's not - well. He has people he intends to go with, if that happens.]

[journalname]

...well. Helping the Risen is the only plan I have. Perhaps some of them would like to live here afterwards...?

[They had been talking of finding some peaceful, neutral world to settle down in. Not their own Earth, not populated by anyone who might bother them. Although, after a single second of thought:]

Actually, that is a terrible idea.

[postictal]

Not the best place for a vacation home, no. Might be...able to find an island that'd fit them, though.

[Some of the islands aren't terrible, after all. Nuidan wasn't terrible. And Io, so far, hasn't been either, but he's got no clue if that's liable to last.]

[journalname]

They are not...fond...of the ocean.

[Might've died trapped in a submarine or something. It's fine!]

[postictal]

[With barely a break in pace - ]

Well, I can see why that'd be a bad idea. Back to the drawing board for that one.

[journalname]

[Asgore chuckles.]

I do know someone who might enjoy this. His name is Lovecraft - he could not take his natural form in that word, but it sounded as though he was some sort of extremely large...ocean creature.

[I mean. His name was Lovecraft and you know what he was.]

[postictal]

As in...H.P.?

[He doesn't have the best cultural knowledge of Lovecraft, but he is pretty sure that he's human. Or - he thought he was?]

[journalname]

...why, yes. Have you met him?

[Asgore has no idea about any H.P. Lovecraft other than the guy he met, so he's a little puzzled that Tim's heard of him.]

[postictal]

N...no. He's just, uh, a famous author. Where I come from. And also kind of a huge racist.

[You can't mention Lovecraft without mentioning That Little Bit.]

[journalname]

[..............what]

Maybe...it is a different Lovecraft? He never mentioned writing, and he was always perfectly decent to the humans among us. [That's more where Asgore's mind goes re: racism]

[postictal]

Humans have more than one kind of racism.

[Tim. Tim does not want to be the guy to explain Racism 101 to Asgore. He grew up in Alabama for god's sake, and things were bad enough when people didn't read too much into the tint of his skin.]

[journalname]

......I see...

[Asgore's not super sure he even wants Racism 101 right now.]

[postictal]

[You know what? Valid.]

I'll...take your word for it. That he wasn't that kind of Lovecraft.

[journalname]

Still, how odd.

[.....]

He had a human friend named John Steinbeck, do you know him?

[postictal]

Uh, not personally? But he's...like, he's an author in my world. [Even Tim's basic understanding of the Western literature that gets taught to every damn high schooler won't fail him now.]

Pretty sure they didn't know each other, though.

[journalname]

...well, that's strange.

[He has, uh, no theories here. Weird.]

[postictal]

Different worlds, different rules.

[A shrug on Tim's part; this kind of thing doesn't bother him the way it used to. He's accepted it by now.]