The Mods of LifeAftr (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lifeaftr_mods) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
lifeaftr2019-08-26 08:51 pm
lifeaftr_mods) wrote in lifeaftr2019-08-26 08:51 pm
Entry tags:
- blue exorcist: yukio okumura,
- coco: héctor rivera,
- final fantasy ix: zidane tribal,
- final fantasy xv: ardyn izunia,
- fragile dreams: ren,
- marble hornets: tim wright,
- mushi-shi: ginko,
- red vs. blue: agent washington,
- red vs. blue: leonard church (alpha),
- the good place: michael,
- undertale: asgore dreemurr,
- ✖ blue exorcist: rin okumura,
- ✖ fullmetal alchemist: edward elric,
- ✖ guilty gear: faust,
- ✖ pluto: epsilon,
- ✖ red vs. blue: agent carolina,
- ✖ red vs. blue: agent texas,
- ✖ undertale: muffet
August Aftermath: Make Me Okay
AUGUST AFTERMATH: MAKE ME OKAY
Who: Everyone!
What: After the harrowing events of mid-month, it's time to process what you've been through
When: August 24th and onward
Where: Ensō and/or Nastrandir
Warnings: Discussions of violence, injury, forcibly altered mindsets via magical influence, and character deaths. Other than that, tag as you go!
What: After the harrowing events of mid-month, it's time to process what you've been through
When: August 24th and onward
Where: Ensō and/or Nastrandir
Warnings: Discussions of violence, injury, forcibly altered mindsets via magical influence, and character deaths. Other than that, tag as you go!
Nastrandir: Can I Fight When I Don't Know How
The morning of August 24th, the day after a Storytelling that was notably later than usual, you will wake to the restoration of your average selves, barring any extenuating circumstances due to recent deaths. The dead will rise again on Ensō, at the Storyteller's Temple, while everyone else will simply wake where they last laid themselves to rest. There's nothing left to do but, perhaps, try to come to terms with all that's just happened.
You've probably witnessed some terrible things, over the past few days. There's a very good chance that you were the one doing the terrible things. Whether you were responsible for the slaughter of a fellow adventurer, watched the fray from the distance, or suffered the spontaneous combustion that seized everyone who hadn't managed to shake away their false memories in time, it's at least all over now. Or...mostly.
So you can pick yourselves up off the ground and clean up what remains, or you can say to yourselves: Fuck That, and instead head back to Ensō. Or you could elect to keep exploring Nastrandir, if you're truly a glutton for punishment.
Ensō: Am I Bleeding From the Neck Down
On Ensō and its accompanying islets, it's begun to rain.
It's not a genuine downpour, but more of a gentle, melancholy drizzle. The rain is cool and likely refreshing, particularly if one is just coming away from the humidity of Nastrandir.
Potentially as a form of apology, anyone who goes digging through their belongings will discover that one of the following has ended up in their packs:
[ ♆ ] If you were a member of the Red Team, you will discover that you now own a rather awkwardly-shaped object, about three feet in length. A set of written instructions will inform you that this is known as a redsword, and that, upon placed upon any wet area or body of water, will drain and dry it out over the course of five minutes. This item is single-use, and only works for a ten-foot radius.It's not much, but it might make some of the hell that you suffered through over the past few days worth it! Almost, anyway. In the meantime...relax, lick your wounds, and try and forgive yourselves for what's happened.
[ ♆ ] If you were a member of the Blue Team, you will discover that you now own some very fetching footwear. A set of written instructions will inform you that these are called skip-skops, and can be used to walk on water or wet land without sinking or getting wet. Standard limitations when crossing between islands or attempting to go beyond LifeAftr's limits will still apply. This item is single-use, and will dissolve after one hour total.
[ ♆ ] If you were Neutral, you will discover that you now own, er, this. A set of written instructions will inform you that this object is called a furball, and that it works as a sort of miniature, diminished version of the sirens you spent all that time destroying on Nastrandir. Once planted, it will rapidly grow into a tall, screaming tree full of lorby-like creatures that automatically causes all natural animals in the vicinity to become aggressive for one hour, maximum. This item is single-use.
If you're interested, the following links may prove handy:
[ ♆ ] OOC Event Info and Plotting Post
[ ♆ ] Nastrandir's Intro
[ ♆ ] Nastrandir's Locations Page
[ ♆ ] Search Requests Page
[ ♆ ] Deaths Page
( CODED BY BOOTYCALL )
Héctor | ota
[It has been A Time. Mind meddled with to the point he couldn't remember his name, only that he needed to find the girl, he attacked his friends until one of them took care of the problem...
And on top of everything else, he snaps back to awareness in the Storyteller's temple, only to realize he can't move an inch, no matter how hard he tries. The rest of him is simply gone. Not detached or scattered around the island--he can't feel a damn thing besides his face. Oh, goodie. There his skull lies, next to a pair of... somethings. Plastic shoes???
...He needs a better adult.]
Hello? Anyone there? Hey?? What's going on?
25th onwards
[He'll be around, unfortunately for him. No going home yet. Wherever someone's set him down, or hanging out with his latest escort, Héctor the cranky and unfinished skeleton shall be!]
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.... oops. Not a rock. That's a skull. A familiar skull!]
.... Hec?
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25th Because I'm a bad person
That tail is a little too close though. Just hopefully it won't move enough to push you off.]
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Lost in his thoughts, he doesn't really register the actual human skull hanging out by the well until he's almost there.]
Oh! Oh, ah...
[Should he leave? He's gonna just leave.
Why on earth is he just a skull?](no subject)
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24th, AT LAST,
But, now and then, he'll stop by the temple, just in case any of those who died during the conflict may need help there. And boy is he glad he stopped by now.]
Hector? [It takes him a bit to find him, because he's... well, at first he's looking for a whole skeleton. Shit. He crouches down so Hector can see him once he finds him.] ...Where's the rest of you?
[His voice comes out sort of scratchy, thanks to the mess that his throat is right now, but that's fine. The fact that Hector is just a head right now is kind of more important.]
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Church | ota
Afterward is...it's after.
The war units hate him now, and honestly, he doesn't blame them. The muck is still mucky. The sirens are still annoying. Everything fucking sucks, and for now, he's going home.
He's not keen on going home, per se. But he's also not carrying around a fuckin' swordfish, okay? ...He's also not looking to carry his guns around. So when he's at the cottage (conspicuously devoid of Maine), his intention is mostly just to drop some of this stuff off and leave. (And pet the kitty. Who's a good giant tiger-plant? She is!) Even if everyone is back, and looking fine for it, he still has a hastily-patched bullet hole in his side. While nothing seems to be critically damaged--at least he can still walk!--it's still a bother. Like hell he's gonna ask for any help about it, though.
No matter what happens, he's definitely going to spend some time away, at least to clear his head. Could be he's ambling around Enso, mostly avoiding Blues, but he eventually makes his way up to the mountaintop temple and garden for some peace, or whatever peace he can conjure.
But he also has to recharge by the mana pool, so. Can't stay up there forever. Can't run or hide forever.
(He'll go back to Nastrandir at some point. There's still so much of it to explore, unless it fucks with their heads again, but like...man, also fuck that place, right?)]
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[Michael's only walking to the mana pool. He's got a few plans for today, mostly revolving around trying to do...something. He doesn't know exactly what. Smashing sirens was simple and straightforward; helping people through the emotional fallout is very much not.
Here, though, is one of the first people he ran into over there. Looking saner, now, if worse for the wear. It's the patching on the bullet hole that tipped him off, it's clearly not a hole in a human.]
How's...it going?
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[He can't really remember, for some reason.]
[His stare settles on familiar armor, and Wash starts.]
Woah - aren't you dead?
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She awakens near the Storyteller's Temple, and it soon becomes clear that she needs to recharge her armor. She heads to the mana pool, as she has done on a daily basis before this. She sees Church, and approaches a bit more slowly as she takes in the fact that her ex is here. She knew Church was on the island, and she knows she'd fallen into his spell again recently, which only means she ought to try to avoid him more than ever. But she needs to recharge her armor and nothing can change that. She shoots him a look as she approaches. Because she's remembered something else—before awakening here, at the Storyteller's Temple, her ex had killed her, and she had died. This was like when the two of them had died at Blood Gulch. But for some reason she hadn't become a ghost this time. She'd just died, and then resurrected.
Unless she had become a ghost? Tex settles down on a rock next to Church and the mana pool and tries to un-possess her armor. It doesn't work. She rolls her eyes and then turns her head to address Church. ]
Can I ask you a question? Are you still a ghost?
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Her own suit is left behind, as she makes her way across the island, and while he might be seeking to avoid familiar faces, lucky him. She does come to a jarring halt, and while she can admit that he isn't the one that she had been looking for off the bat, and that they hadn't really had much interaction, she knows the impact that he had had on the Reds and Blues back home. He's no less a pain in the ass than they are though.]
You look like shit.
[She's faired slightly better, although only slightly. Whatever mania had settled over them had left her untouched, but that hadn't exactly helped. Not like she had been able to knock sense in to anyone.]
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..."tim" | ota
[The good news is that Tim didn't die, again. This is the good news. He didn't combust. He wasn't shot or stabbed or set on fire. He lived through the magically induced turf war. He wavered between two extremes, where he both was and was not himself.]
[Eventually, he settled on choosing to be himself. The issue only really became an issue when he remembered too late.]
[Timothy Wright has not taken his medication for over a week.]
[You'll mostly hear the sound at night - the snap of twigs cracking, and the shuffling of arrhythmic footsteps, like one leg is being dragged behind the rest. You might catch a glimpse of a pale mask of a face leering out from the dark of the undergrowth, carved from wood so pale that it may as well be white.]
[If you're especially unlucky, you'll only see it as its owner comes racing toward you.]
[The thing haunting the jungles of Ensō is not Timothy Wright.]
[It's only wearing his body for a little while.]
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All of which is to say that there's a faint glow of firelight in his cob house, and he's attentive enough to walk outside at the sound of crunching in the undergrowth.]
Hey, someone out here? [He's still wearing a full suit at goddamn two in the morning, because when is he ever not. At least he untied his bow tie?]
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What she doesn't expect on this calm, wonderful evening is a masked face right in her peripheral vision. It's eerie. It reminds her of a ghost and she's certain it doesn't belong to anyone she knows. None of her friends and family make a hobby of sneaking around the woods in creepy disguises. But that doesn't mean it's not someone new.
So she stares right back at it-careful to not move or blink from her position. All she wanted to do was deface this tree trunk-not be startled by some spooky figure.
She doesn't like how quiet it is and tries to break the silence with a-]
Are you hiding?
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Zidane | OTA
[Zidane tried to keep his positive manner even in dire situations. Someone had to, when others had broken down. It meant he could help push them or do stuff for them when they couldn't. And it meant things could get done. And he still kept himself together mostly even after all the horrors that had been happening the last few days.
However, there was one aspect of the chaos that happened that the thief could not shake off. The fact that those sirens on that island had warped people's minds so quickly, no matter who they were. Even to the point where friends tried to kill each other. While Zidane was relieved that he did not get the worst effects, the sirens had enough power that they managed to alter him enough to behave in a way that he normally wouldn't have. And that really frightened him.
There was the temptation to go off somewhere and distract himself to avoid facing his problems like he had in the past. Play cards at the Denny or whatever. Go and hunt monsters. Until the problems bothered him less, and yet over the course of his journey with Vivi, Dagger and the others, Zidane realised that would just be running away. No, he has to face things, even though it'll be hard. First, there were a few people he had to apologise to. And he had to check on others. See how everyone was. And....well, which of his friends were still alive.
So, if you've had at least a couple of positive interactions with Zidane, you might find Zidane knocking at your door to check up on you. Or you might find him entering the Denny to see if you are there if you tend to hang out there. Or, whether or not you do know him, might standing outside the Storyteller's temple, glancing at the entrance hesitantly and looking noticeably unsure and anxious.
Who did not survive the island? Were they one of his friends? And if one of his friends died........will they come back?]
25th
[As much as he'd like to avoid Nastrandir (although not as much as he'd like to kick it into the ocean so it never came back), there were still possible mysteries that had to be uncovered. Everyone was still stuck on the island (that, and the past week had made Zidane want to go home more than ever) and it was not worth just waiting until they were spirited back to where they came from. Avoiding Nastrandir forever was not going to free everyone. Besides, there could still be something on the island that could potentially trigger a repeat of the past week and if there was, it had to be stopped.
And so Zidane was back, curiously inspecting one of the broken sirens, picking up one of the pieces of broken machinery. There was not much to look at but...]
Hmmm....I wonder if there are other smashed ones that are intact enough to bring back to inspect? .......Nah, that might be a bad idea. Could be intact enough to reactivate. And I really don't want that. [Especially not on Enso.]
Ginko | partly open
[As soon as, so far as Ginko can tell, those influenced by the sirens have come back to their senses, he sends a brief private message to each of his housemates – just to, you know, make sure they’re not going to be left wondering where the hell he is.]
don’t worry if you can’t find me at the cottage, i’m staying at the clinic for a while. let me know how you’re feeling and come by if there’s any chance you’re hurt ok?
OTA – Enso Clinic
In the days following the disaster on Nastrandir, Ginko can be found in and near the clinic with unfailing consistency. He’s doing a hell of a lot better than some, he knows; he could have come out of this with a lot worse than some bruises and a sore throat.
Which means that, while he waits and hopes he didn’t take any permanent damage to... you know, his brain or throat or anything important like that when he got choked unconscious, he can better focus on working. Which, frankly, is about the only thing he wants to be thinking right now. Far preferable to anywhere else his mind wants to wander lately.
So, he does whatever is put in front of him, and, if he runs out of things to do, he’ll step out to find more. He doesn’t really move to approach people, but anyone approaching or entering the clinic will get a brief nod of greeting, just letting them know he knows they're there if they need help.
iStone
anyway im fine
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temple | 24th
Good. Yukio rolls onto his side, curls up, and tries to wrap his head around the sudden return to a normal sense of himself and his reality. He is Okumura Yukio. These islands are not his home. He forgot who he was. He... killed his brother. He burned to death.
It's a good thing it's dark here. No one can see how much he's shaking.
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cw: vomit
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"Can I rest in here....?"
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CW suicide-adjacent ideation
oh ginko
Re: oh ginko
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Enso Clinic
Mini is currently holding Faust's cup in both hands, kicking their tiny feet over the edge of the desk and looking like they'd rather be doing literally anything else right now. Meanwhile, the good doctor himself is examining one of the clinic's scalpels with intense scrutiny - he's pulling the devils horns with one hand, and is using the other to push the blunt edge of the scalpel's blade between his two extended fingers, almost as if to-
"-! Ah, good morning, young Ginko!"
-in one smooth motion, the scalpel is hastily stuffed into the eternal abyss that is Faust's coat, and he shoots Ginko a hearty wave before jumping back to his feet and picking his cup back out of Mini's hands. Strangely, despite having their hands freed, Mini does not mirror the good doctor's enthusiastic greeting. With the way their own eyehole narrows, it's almost as if they're...concerned?
Re: Enso Clinic
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Michael | OTA
[Finally. Thank god all that's over.
Michael suffered less than most people from this shadow war, and he knows it. He's not hurt; he wasn't delusional. Some of his friends died, sure, but didn't everyone's? They all come back anyway.
So even though his siren-smashing work is pretty much finished, he still feels like he ought to do a little more. He's just not sure what. He gets action: forming plans in a crisis, running around doing shit and praying that it'll all work out. That was familiar ground. But the emotional turmoil left behind? The toll of people realizing what they've done? He knows that it's happening and it's bad, but he doesn't know exactly what he's meant to do about it.
When the humans got upset, they'd do all sorts of things to console each other. Michael considers his options, then walks down to Denny. If there's anybody there, he'll ask:]
Hey, what kind of food do you want? Anything, on the house.
[His creation powers are limited, but he doesn't need them for weapons or tools today. He can spend a little.]
b. swamp people; nastrandir, 25th; closed to Ed, Keith, Muffet, and Castor
[In the end, Michael still doesn't feel that comfortable about letting Nastrandir lie. What if that wasn't the only awful surprise it has in store? There's others who feel the same, so he gathered up a small party at Denny and they planned to set out for a few days. He doesn't really know most of them, but that's fine; gotta meet sometime.
The terrain they're walking over looks almost deceptively easy. Michael spent as little time on this island as he could, and kept well clear of the swamps on his quick siren-breaking jaunts. He does not notice the mire until he's stepped in a patch of it.]
Oh...shit. [Trying to pull his legs free doesn't quite help. At least he's not panicking; thrashing would likely make it worse.] Little help, here?
c. oh no; nastrandir, 25th; closed to Ed, Keith, Muffet, and Castor
[Now this is exactly the sort of creepy Nastrandir garbage Michael came out here to find.
It's with a mingled air of triumph and distaste that he circles the flower-engraved statues, peering at them for any details that may have been worn down by time. There's no buttons, no mechanism that he sees. Maybe they really are just creepy art pieces?]
Tell you what, I don't trust that dais up there. [He turns to whoever's nearby.] Any idea what all this is about?
[The Overgrowth happened well before his time here.]
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[oh look it's your favorite unholy legion in a trenchcoat, taking up space in the denny like the hobo he is.]
How astonishingly mundane.
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B.
[Planting her feet firmly on solid ground, she tosses the string of light out at Michael.]
Here, grab hold.
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ASGORE | OTA
Too much has happened. Chara is gone. Before, he was simply trying not to acknowledge how he felt about that. Who was he, to pine over his own loss when their chosen family was still here and suffering? When he's already had a hundred years to grieve them?
But then he just - he did the exact same thing he did before. He lost himself in anger. He committed murder, abandoning his childrens' memory. The first time was already a betrayal of what they would have wanted, what Asriel died for; this time, he went so far as to forget them entirely. He'd wanted so badly to believe in a world where he had a people, a family around him. He clung to the idea that he wasn't alone so fiercely that he blocked out all else.
Has he learned nothing? Even after everything, is that just who he is?
The only thing that draws him outdoors is his garden. His plants rely on him. They do not need him, he supposes, but the fact that they could probably subsist on their own out there does not mean that they should have to. So, every morning, he drags himself outside to water and weed. His body has not recovered at the same pace as his mind. The stiffness in his shoulder and side will fade. He doubts that his horn will grow back, but that is alright. By rights, he should be living with greater consequences than that.
On the first day, he finds his tools laying outside by his row of carrots. That's right - that's what he was doing when the sirens sounded. In his haste to reach Nastrandir, he dropped them right where he stood.
Asgore kneels down to retrieve them. This is where he stopped weeding, then. He can pick up exactly where he left off.
Instead, he ends up on his knees in the grass, sobbing into his hands.]
agent washington | ota
[He's pretty sure it will be, anyway. For some reason, his neck...really hurts, but he can't seem to remember how or why that would've happened. He can't seem to remember a lot of things, actually. It's weird, but it feels like things are just slipping out between the cracks, here and there.]
[Sometimes it's the little things. Wash walks into the temple, or passes near the mana pool, or stops by one of the water wells on the islets, and then just stops - like he can't quite remember what it is he meant to do.]
[This causes some problems.]
[One: Wash's armor just shuts down. It's been a while since he's taken it to get a recharge, and it's looking a little worse for wear on top of it - bullet holes and parts where the composite has been crushed and torn in places. Midway through walking across Ensō, his armor simply stops working, and Wash abruptly falls onto his knees and hands, breathing heavily. It's heavy stuff, see. You're not supposed to be walking around with it weighing its actual weight on you without all the reflex circuits and supports that keep you moving like you normally would. The heft is unusual and he can't seem to deal with it - can't seem to know how to deal with it.]
[Two: you might see him standing rigid, sidearm raised and trained unerringly on Amitusha - you know, the tigerlily that is utterly harmless and that used to belong to his best friend. He seems to be breathing heavily, trying to decide if she's a threat. And she doesn't seem to understand why this is happening.]
[Three: Wash might decide that he doesn't recognize or very much like the look of you. His hand falls to his sidearm, and he stares at you like he expects you to just up and attack him, out of nowhere.]
[It's probably because he doesn't actually remember you.]
[Maybe you should give him a minute.]
three
Oh.
[He lifts his hands as if to show that he's unarmed. That's meaningless, though, isn't it? In the forest, he'd shot volley after volley of fireballs at Wash, all from his open palms. He'd set the woods ablaze. No matter what he does, he is dangerous.
If Wash wants justice, Asgore will not fight him.]
I beg your pardon. I did not expect you here.
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Agent Texas ★ OTA ★ Will match style
But it's simple enough. Tex had forgotten she's an AI.
And it's that complex. Because Tex forgetting she's an AI means Tex has forgotten who Church is in relation to her, and who Carolina is. She's forgotten that she isn't some kind of ghost embodying a clone that was given to her, somehow. She's forgotten it all.
Tex makes her way to her usual haunts—the hut, the site of the gym, and the Denny, as well as her usual foraging sites— without a thought in a world to what's missing in her head. She hasn't really had any reason to think about it. She greets her friends and acquaintances as she normally would, offering them food she's foraged. She works out. She eats. She sleeps. And all the while, she has no idea who she really is.
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She'd been going to check on the gym, the only sign really that Maine had even been here, when she does finally spot a familiar sight. It's still odd seeing her, her and Church- not the Church that she knows, not Epsilon, but Alpha, who doesn't really respond to that either. Then again, anything Church related should come with a 'fucked up' warning, herself included. "You coming or going, Tex?"
Which is about as much as a hello, how are you doing this day that one will get from Carolina. Small talk is not her forte, and she does tend to be straight to the point.
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