lifeaftr | August Intro: These Days Are Feeling Dark

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August Intro: These Days Are Feeling Dark

INTRO LOG: AUGUST

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

Our lucky new adventurers join the archipelago on a new chapter of our journey, with the new island of Nastrandir playing host to their arrival. With the events of last month leaving many questions in those more settled in LifeAftr, all will find they soon have…other things to think about.

New arrivals may awake at either of the locations listed below. Or they may wander!

A4: Show Me Distraction
In comparison to the warm welcome characters experienced on Io, the land of Nastrindir is not at all promising. The strip of coast hosting the mana pool is a scoop of rock and cliff, and rather unforgiving. To the east, however, it looks as though nearby wetlands leave the horizon lost in a foggy haze. The mana pool is generally a comforting, reliable constant on any island...generally. There looks to be something wrong with this one. The rocks surrounding it are blackened, various spots across their surface almost glass-like under the summer sun. After a brief inspection, most will probably gather that the pool has been set on fire in times past.

More annoying still is the tampering that's occured within the pool. The pool is partially obstructed, due to a blockage of tumbled rocks and boulders that seem to have fallen from the surrounding rocky landscape and toppled into the raised plinth. The choking of the mana water will make return trips to Ensō…inconvenient, to say the least. The rocks are an annoyance that will need to be removed before anyone will be travelling anywhere.

Also of note are the old statues that stand at opposing sides of the mana pool. In their prime, they may have towered a good fifteen or twenty feet tall. Now, however, one has been tipped onto its side, and there are large, crumbled chunks taken out of the other. Both look blackened, much like the mana pool, as though they were also set on fire at some point in their history. Whatever they may have meant to depict has been lost to time...but the parts of them that have survived look to represent smooth, rounded coils of something or another.

It might feel, to the particularly wary or those prone to paranoia, like these statues are watching you. Like they're representative of something else that might have its eye on you, even now.

Or they might not! It could be all in your head. What's way more important is the local flora in the vicinity. The parts of the land that have soil are currently host to some delightful plants that are known, colloquially, as candyplants. And, yes - they're exactly what they sound like.

Candyplants are odd plants that are not unlike a melon vine, except that their fruits take the form of giant candies. The candyfruit is quite edible, though much higher in sugar content than your more bog standard varieties of fruits and vegetables. The variation in the shapes and sizes and flavors is tremendous - some are shaped like fruit, and will have a very similar taste to the fruit they represent. The only exceptions are the ones that look rather like overgrown candy corn, which taste like...marshmallows, for some reason. But they still taste sweet, and they're still full of some of the nutrients you'd expect to find in ordinary fruit!

While candyplants are somewhat less sugary than their real candy equivalents, it's still not recommended that you gorge on them overmuch. They're probably pretty bad for your teeth, if you have any. Candyplants do keep for quite some time, though - particularly if dried, packed in jars, or otherwise preserved.

Candyplants grow in temperate areas near quantities of fresh water - which Nastrandir has in abundance. Most of them grow in shaded, open areas along the ground, like melons; plants that bear smaller candyfruits may instead behave like grapes and other climbing vines, especially when they would be otherwise crowded out by other ground plants. The plants and fruits are quite harmless, though the sweet, sugary smell that tends to linger around areas of rampant growth during hot weather can cause one hell of migraine.

B4: Snakes Are Biting at My Heels
Those who arrive a little ways away from the mana pool or find themselves daring enough to start exploring will end up on the B4 square, which is closer to the swampy environment more characteristic of Nastrandir's inland. The further east one progresses, the wetter and softer the ground underfoot will get, until you're slogging thigh-deep in freshwater algae and muck. It's pretty dirty work, but it's probably more advisable that you go roaming into the wetlands rather than sticking around in the rockier regions. - especially because those regions happen to be occupied.

That feeling of paranoia that may or may not have settled on the back of your neck on A4 will turn out to be justified. Flickers of motion in the corner of your eye, the sensation of something watching you, the clattering of pebbles and rocks sliding down the sloping inclines on Nastrandir's craggy landscape - all signs indicative that something else frequents this region.

And something does. Something large, scaly, and very hungry.

Rocobra have now been unlocked in the bestiary!

The spiny protrusions on this creature's long, sinuous body will make it quite difficult to distinguish from its surroundings; these beasts tend to disguise themselves as the surrounding mountain rock where they live. Mild chameleonic properties allow this predator to blend almost seamlessly in with a rocky environment of almost any texture and color. And, given the size of them, it's very possible you won't realize that you're stuck in one's coils until it's too late.

With thick, scaly hides, large jaws, and venomous teeth, the rocobra is deadly fast despite its significant bulk. Even at their smallest, the rocobra is often as thick as a tree trunk in girth, and can range from thirty to sixty feet in length. Rocobra specialize in draping themselves in a circle, concealing themselves among their surroundings, and waiting for unsuspecting prey to wander somewhere in their coils before drawing tight around them to constrict them into a slow and painful death, so they might be devoured.

The good news is that rocobra only ever hunt and live in solitude; it is highly unlikely you'll find more than one in any one area. Most cannot spit venom, but can deal a paralyzing strike with massive fangs that are just as likely to impale you as they are to poison you. The good news is that they do have a weakness, and that weakness is numbers - when there is more than one target for the rocobra to focus on, it can get hopelessly confused over who it should be striking first, and can be easily distracted and led along by a well-coordinated team or pair. It's advised that you strike it at the mouth, if possible, as those scales can be awfully hard to penetrate.

While the danger rocobra present is very real, that doesn't mean they're completely useless. Rocobra can potentially be harvested for venom, meat, or their tough, scaly hides.

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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[Back to the office fits, it tracks with how Crowley thinks of Hell, but nothing else about this guy matches with any other demon he knows. He's too slick, that's not something demons go in for.

Crowley does, although he doesn't feel it much right now. He considers his next move, considers it again, tips his head to regard Michael. The thing is, even when he was in Hell's favor, Crowley wasn't much of anyone. That was how he liked it, keep his head down, do his job and do it well, but he had no aspirations for power. He never wanted to be important.

And this demon doesn't know him, apparently, has no idea about the whole traitor thing. He ignores the question.]

Here I thought everyone was recalled for the war. Unless you skipped the summons, hm? I'd love to be the one to tell Prince Beelzebub about a rogue demon running around.

[Michael raises his eyebrows. Even if he is a traitor, the threat still manages to fall rather flat - Prince Beelzebub, is he serious? That's such a ridiculous name for an actual, literal person to use!

Shit, he should've studied human religions more. He knows a decent amount about Christianity, both from general cultural saturation and weird Kantian tangents, but surely not as much as someone who was in that whole setup. He's not sure he can pass as a demon from that version of reality.

Maybe it's best not to try. The guy'll find out about the whole mini-iHop thing here pretty soon anyway, and it always is better to stick close to the truth.]

Oh, you must be from some other Hell. They've got you reporting to Beelzebub over there? [He grins lazily.] Huh. Well, in case you hadn't noticed, this is a multiversal nexus point. You know what those are, right?

[Crowley blinks, squints, blinks again. All the fight drains out of him. No demon in their right mind would say a bad word about Beelzebub, not with how cranky she's got to be at the moment. So this guy is either completely off his rocker, or telling some kind of truth.

He remembers that strange rabbit explaining a whole bunch of stuff to him that he hadn't been really listening to, because he was worried about how Hell managed to sneak up on him in the Ritz, of all places.]

Better than Satan. [It's muttered, mostly, before he looks back at Michael properly.] I've got no idea what the fuck a multiversal nexus point is, actually. Isn't that some sci-fi thing?

[He watches movies sometimes.]

[...well, this has taken a weird turn. Michael blinks a few times, like he can't really believe he's having to explain this to an invading demon now, and sighs.]

It's a point where a bunch of different realities can overlap. Like the - [there is no way the Time Knife exists in Bible Hell] - like...I don't know, the Star Trek reboot series. They're in a different world, the whole history is different, but one of the original ones ends up there...?

[His Hell has Pirates of the Caribbean Forever, they probably know about the Star Trek reboots.

wait shit none of that was a very Evil Demon thing to say]

[It's fortunate that Crowley's eyebrows are the way they are; they make it easier to read his expression when his eyes are hidden behind his sunglasses. Right now, they're doing a lot of jumping about, his forehead creasing. He's clearly trying to figure this out and honestly, not doing a very good job of it.]

Sure, right.

[Said in the tone of someone who does not understand at all, but knows that saying so will just result in more confusing explanations.]

What I'm hearing is that you're not here to drag me back to Hell for the whole Antichrist business, yeah?

The...Antichrist business.

[It could be some kind of ploy to get him to admit that he's not exactly a loyal denizen of Hell himself. But in Michael's experience, most demons aren't nearly that subtle. He's the only one who bothered to try some good old psychological torture in thousands of years.]

No, I don't care about the Antichrist. Why, are you expecting someone?

[Now, he doesn't jump straight to treachery here. That would be quite a leap; it's far more likely that the guy fucked something up badly, a retirement-level kind of mistake. Still, he just wants to know now.]

[I don't care about the Antichrist.

Crowley barks out a laugh, feeling suddenly light-headed with relief. Maybe this man is a demon, maybe he's something else, but if he doesn't care about the Antichrist, if he doesn't know anything about what Crowley's done, does it really matter?]

Well — sort of, it's a long story. [Yes and no. No and yes.] Crowley. That's my name, missed that bit at the start, didn't I? Now. Who the Heaven are you?

[He's curious. This demon who doesn't care about the Antichrist. Everyone cared about the Antichrist!]

[What's that human film about the Antichrist? The one with Damien in it? Michael didn't actually see it, but was the Antichrist Business like that?]

...Michael.

[He knows that's an important angel name - he thought it was a fun coincidence back at the beginning of his Neighborhood, sort of a good omen. But all Crowley's threatening manner has abruptly dropped, and Michael's just sort of confused now. What is this, what are they doing now? He's not comfortable enough to drop the lie, but he's not exactly doing the whole cocky high-ranking demon thing right now.]

I'm a Senior Architect. That's upper management, if you don't...have those...?

[For only a moment, the thought crosses his mind that in some twist of the universe, Michael Fell, but he dismisses it quickly. Demons didn't get to keep their names. Probably just a coincidence, or a joke that isn't very funny. Anthony is the name of a Saint, after all.]

My lot go more in for princes and dukes, never really got out of the dark ages.

[The bit about upper management does concern him slightly, but nothing about Michael reminds him of any other demon. And honesty, Crowley's always been amiable even to the worst of the lot, in part because it keeps them off balance, they never knew what to make of him, but also he's just... like that. He doesn't see the point in being needlessly aggressive and nasty.]

You wouldn't happen to know the way out of here, would you? This place is miserable.

No. There's no way to get out intentionally - seems like we all just have to wait for the universe to spit us out again.

[Normally this would be where he tried to offer some sympathy. Honestly, it seems like that might not be entirely unwarranted here? The fact that Crowley is being amiable doesn't mean he's not evil, but it's unusual enough to have thrown Michael off his game.

It's enough to risk a gamble:]

It's mostly just humans here. Wandering around, getting into things...

[A little dangerous, if Crowley is, but ultimately it's not like Michael could've ever kept the entire population of the islands a secret. He wants to see the reaction.]

Can't say it was the holiday I was hoping for, but I'll take it.

[He won't, but he doubts there's any point fussing about it now, and there's still that gentle tug of angel that he has to find eventually. Who knows what kind of trouble Aziraphale will get himself into, if he's around.

But that's a future problem, right now, Crowley is focused on Michael, and Michael wants something. What that is, exactly, Crowley isn't entirely sure, but he's gotten good at picking up on expectation. It's a survival skill.

He could play at being interested in some humans to corrupt, maybe that's what Michael is looking for, but that's setting himself up for work. He'd really rather not.]

If you're expecting me to work, you've got another thing coming, I'm officially retired. I'm sure they can get themselves into enough trouble without my help.

[It's not the safest answer, but it's the closest to the truth without revealing his own feelings about humans or Hell.]

Retired?

[Michael blanches a little without meaning to; that's a loaded fucking term. Crowley's atoms are clearly still all together, but he's heard of this place acting as an afterlife for certain people. Is that...?

No, no. Surely he'd be more traumatized?]

You mean the...human way? You seem very coherent.

[Now there's a reaction. Crowley is a curious creature, by nature, that's sort of what got him into the mess of his existence in the first place.]

Beelzebub and I came to a mutual agreement that it'd be best for everyone if I was left alone, long as I stuck to Earth. Suits me fine, Hell's too crowded, anyway and no one knows how to throw a good party. [This is a very neutral way of putting it, because he isn't going to outright say that he's a traitor, not if it turns out Michael takes loyalty to Hell very seriously.] You're thinking something different, hm?

[What does retirement mean, to an Architect?]

Retirement's...an extreme punishment, for us. For failures, or traitors.

[Despite the situation, that doesn't come out very pointed; he's talking about the only traitor he's ever heard of, which is him.]

Basically they just scoop your essence out of your body with a flaming ladle, break you down to the atomic level, and scatter each of your individual particles over the surface of a different sun. We also call it the Eternal Shriek, because you can still hear all of them screaming...forever.

[.......so yeah.

The rest of that, though - he's just regular retired? On Earth? Without demons constructing an entire illegal portal just to come fuck with him some more?]

How did you manage that?

[Crowley's familiar with torture. Hard not to be, what with being a demon. Even harder to avoid it on Earth, honestly. He still has nightmares about the Spanish Inquisition. But if Hell hadn't decided to just destroy him, he would've been locked away, tortured for the rest of eternity and that would've sucked, but — at least it's not what Michael is describing.]

That's creative of them, here I thought Falling was terrible.

[Lot of burning involved in both.

He tries to shake off the thought, rolling his shoulders.]

Oh, I'm just very persuasive when I want to be. Helps that they're scared of me, of what I can do. Demons that can take a dip in holy water aren't ones you want to mess around with.

[He's already played the holy water card, so he might as well repeat it, this time as a bit of a warning. Really, Aziraphale is better at all this threatening business, it's the Principality in him, probably, but all Crowley really wants out of this is to not have to be constantly looking over his shoulder for a threat. He finally, finally thought he was free of that.]

[Sorry, Crowley, this time the implied threat just utterly fails to even register. Michael's distracted by the first part of that.]

Falling?

[From Heaven? That tracks, with the whole Satan thing, but he hadn't really thought about that aspect of it until now. He can't imagine - not that most demons would choose anything else, anyway, but they didn't have a choice in being demons. They just were. Where would Michael be now, if he'd started off as an angel?

Man, he wants to know more about this guy's whole weird deal! But that's not quite the point of this. He lifts his chin, not bothering to put on much of a threatening air. It no longer seems entirely necessary - Crowley acts like more of a layabout than someone who gives a shit about humans, but the result's more or less the same.]

Right, well. Keep on leaving the mortals alone, and we won't have a problem.

[Crowley doesn't like to talk about the Fall, unless he's on his own or very drunk and rambling at strangers, so he's happy to take an out when given, to avoid answering Michael's question. It raises a few of his own in turn — did Michael not Fall? Was he always a demon? Did becoming a demon involve something other than a million light-year dive and a pit of sulfur? If he weren't so hot and miserable, he'd probably be more willing to delve into the differences here.

As it is, he just raises his eyebrows, instead, trying and failing not to look amused.]

We won't have a problem, will we? [This is interesting, too, but now that the whole posturing and trying to figure each other out is mostly done, he's going to go back to the practical.] Look, I love humans, the clever little things. I've no issue with them if I've got no quotas to meet. And they invented alcohol! Gotta give that to them. Bringing me to my next point: is there a bar anywhere in this shithole? I could use a drink.

[Or several, actually.]

I've had a very long week.

You love humans.

[Michael's skeptical, but not so much on edge anymore. He made his point, and that whole blustering segment of the conversation seems largely settled. Settled so fast that he almost wonders if he should take back some of that "upper management" stuff he said?

Let's just wait that one out a little. Crowley's obvious amusement that he's concerned for the humans doesn't strike him entirely well.]

The only thing around here is Denny. They serve blackberry whiskey. [And that's it, you'll drink it and you'll like it.] It's not on this island, you're going to need to go over to Enso.

You spend six millennia with 'em and you're bound to get a bit fond.

[This doesn't really need to be a secret, other demons know that Crowley likes humans, that he likes being on Earth. They don't understand, never have, but it's not a crime, as long as he was still doing what they wanted of him. Killing another demon, losing the Antichrist, stopping the end of the world. Those were all his crimes.

It's strange now, learning he's not the only one that's soft on humans, even if Michael is apparently from a completely different kind of Hell.]

Blackberry whiskey. [in the tone of someone who thinks that's the worst idea they've ever heard.] Going over to Enso, that's the bit with those pools, yeah? That's not a load of bollocks?

[Not that he can probably trust Michael anymore than he can trust the Storyteller, but still. Can't hurt to ask.]

It's made by a very large spider woman.

[Which, he thinks, might go some way to explaining why it even exists? It isn't Michael's favorite drink either, but then again, it's not very important to him to have any booze at all.]

Right. The pools are just little localized portals, you can ask them to go straight to Denny. [He waves a hand dismissively; his world's portals are cooler.] And you know, I don't think that's true at all. We all spend some time around them, don't we?

[Crowley considers that for a moment, the whole spider woman nonsense, before he decides not to make a fuss. It is what it is.

Good to know about the portal, though. Maybe he'll actually try it now, provided he can find his way out of this swamp. At this rate it might be worth breaking out his wings so he can get a higher vantage point, though he'd really rather not reveal himself to any humans that might be in the area.]

Right, you don't — [Crowley sighs, straightens himself up a little. Most demons he interacts with know his assignment, his rank, because that's just bureaucracy for you. It's been a while since he's had to properly introduce himself.] I was Hell's representative on Earth, been there since the Beginning. Torturing a bunch of souls isn't the same as living with them when they're alive, is it?

[If only he knew how true that was.]

Oh, very much so. They don't even have to be alive.

[He was with his humans for centuries, before that last reboot, but he wasn't living with them. Not as himself, not really. All those years meant nothing at all, weighed against the last few months.]

You all get a representative on Earth?

[He has no idea what to make of that, or where to even start dissecting it. Who spends time with dead humans? Hell's bad enough as is without going into all the bits specifically designed for torture.]

I mean, a lot of us pop up from time to time, quick little temptations, that sort of thing. But the Lords of Hell always liked my work, wasn't hard to convince them to let me just stay up top. And there was the other side to consider, had to have someone there full time, making sure they weren't spreading too much good.

[And he stopped that happening super well. Like just. super well. Definitely did not on occasion do the spreading of good for the angel.]

None of us get to go to Earth, not on either side. We just get 'em when they're dead, go from there.

[What's the point in trying to get them to - what, condemn themselves? They do that anyway. Still, he's...he's honestly sort of jealous. What a good job...]

We barely even see any angels, unless there's some sort of dispute.

[What's the point of demons if they're not trying to secure more souls for Hell? Well, there's the torture, obviously, which he has to guess is why Michael was worried about him hanging about the humans here.

Which is interesting! He's curious about the whole situation Michael has going on. It's just that he doesn't want to have this conversation in the middle of a terrible swamp.]

Right, look, this is fascinating, truly, would love to compare notes whenever you want, but if I don't get out of this heat I'm going to discorporate, I'm sure of it.

[Genuinely feels like it, too. He hasn't had a headache this bad since that one time he and Aziraphale got drunk during the Napoleonic Wars and he forgot to sober up before passing out.]

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