August Aftermath: Make Me Okay

[lifeaftr_mods]

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!

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. Any stray sirens that haven't been smashed by the event's end are still shrilling away, though their dangerous effects seem to have been rendered inert without the aid of the broken merotome spilling its memories into everyone else's heads. Likewise, a handful of automatons still wander the island of Nastrandir. Those that have not succumbed to mud and rust and irreparable damage are still capable of firing upon hostiles. Anyone who may have fought by their side before will discover that they're now far less friendly, and will treat former members of the Red Team just the same as they would with any other intruder: with deadly fire.

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.

[ ♆ ] 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.

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. Please remember to let us know if your character perished in this event! Remember also that death penalties will be reduced following this event; characters will only need to contend with them for a week, and participation in Non-Compulsory AC will not be necessary in removing them.

---

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

LOGS ● OOC ● STORIES ● MAIN NAVIGATION

( CODED BY BOOTYCALL )

Comments

Church | ota

[motherfucking_ghost]

[While his mood is almost elated during the storytelling, it's...well, it's storytelling, a dreamlike state where he gets to talk about better things.

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?)]

[eudaimonikos]

...oh. You are a robot.

[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?

[motherfucking_ghost]

Beep beep boop.

[Technically, he shouldn't be capable of being exhausted, but he is absolutely and most thoroughly that. Doesn't even add any playful insult to it, just listlessly raises his hand in greeting. His head's resting back, visor to the sky. Could be he was napping. If he had eyeballs to close.]

Uhhhhh. It's going? It sure is going. Unfortunately.

[eudaimonikos]

Right.

[Not sure what to do with that, guy whose name he never even got!]

So hey - this is a weird question, I get that. And I'm not mad about it. But you did shoot Tex, didn't you? [Knocking it out of the empathy park today!]

[motherfucking_ghost]

Oh. Wow. We're just--we're diving in right off the bat, huh?

[He sits up straighter, rubbing the back of his head and intensely already not wanting to have this conversation.]

You a friend of hers?

[There's a skeptical tone to his voice. Mostly because...he does not associate Tex with the concept of 'having friends'.]

[eudaimonikos]

...yeah.

[oh, we weren't supposed to do that, were we...]

Just wondering where she ended up.

[motherfucking_ghost]

Okay. Well. I guess let's just take this from the top, then.

[He streeeeetches like this is just a normal conversation between two dudes and not, y'know, mildly traumatizing or anything. She's human now, after all. He's vividly aware of this fact.]

Yes. I shot her. Dead as dicks. How, I don't know, she's usually a lot better at this fighting stuff, and I'm usually...worse at guns than she is. [Technically true!] So. I guess she ended up wherever people end up when they...cccccome back to life?

Don't, uh, get me wrong here--not dying a dead-death is pretty good news for people with a habit of dying. [He's say "so not Tex" but that's statistically untrue more times than even he's aware of.] Just, it's a weird concept so far, and I haven't experienced it for myself?

[counterblows]

[Wash is...at the mana pool. He's not really sure how he got to the mana pool, actually? He thought he was somewhere else, for some reason, but he's not. Instead, he's here. Has he been here for a while?]

[He can't really remember, for some reason.]

[His stare settles on familiar armor, and Wash starts.]

Woah - aren't you dead?

[motherfucking_ghost]

[It's not that Church really wants to be here. Stupid fake robot body makes him recharge. Why can't he be solar powered so he never has to come down except in like...hurricanes or something? There's almost too much foot traffic to rest properly--

And then Wash starts speaking???

His head snaps up from where he was resting and stares at Wash. Wash with a helmet not destroyed, not a cratered wreck, and also asking him a...frankly really dumb question.]

Aren't--[here comes one of the stupider replies he's ever made] Aren't you?

[counterblows]

I mean...no? I think I'd remember if I...

[His hand rubs at his neck. His expression closes slightly, creasing into something confused and a bit distant beneath his visor. Something about the lengthy pause before he can reply manages to communicate something of that drifting uncertainty.]

I was shot. I get shot all the time.

[motherfucking_ghost]

You were shot a lot. You were shot to death. I--are we even having this conversation right now? Did dying fuck up your memories?

[Which is an absolutely terrifying prospect given he knows Wash as the guy who remembers everything. He had Epsilon. He is memory. The key.]

[counterblows]

Uh, sure, the Meta shot me once. But that was before the E.M.P. went off, and you were in it, so...

[The certainty in his tone starts to melt away as he straightens up, frowning.]

Wasn't that...what happened...?

[motherfucking_ghost]

Nnnnn...I...yyyyeah, that happened, but that's not the...most recent event.

[Church stands, wary, uncertain.]

Hey, Wash? Do you know where you are right now?

[a_shadow]

[ Tex remembers a lot. She remembers being here. She remembers being in the previous universe she was in. She remembers crashing in a box canyon with a waterfall before that, though she feels like there's something wrong with that. Some detail that's not coming to her. But that can't be important, because if it were, she'd remember it. Right?

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?

[motherfucking_ghost]

[That just strikes him as an unusual question in a post-oops-I-shot-my-girlfriend-dead-after-getting-mindfucked world. He stares at her, ready to get up and bolt if he has to, which he doesn't seem to have to, and tilts his head.]

I mean, presumably?

[a_shadow]

You don't know?

[ She shakes her head a little. ]

It just doesn't seem to work the same way here as it did when we were in Blood Gulch. That's all.

[motherfucking_ghost]

Oh, that? Yeah, no I can't do any of that shit here. I'm just sayin', presumably I'm still a ghost in the machine, even if it's just me perpetually possessing it.

[a_shadow]

That makes sense. I suppose.

[ She sighs and settles back against a rock. ]

I'm just here to recharge.

[ She doesn't want him to think she actually sought out his company, especially since he was the one who killed her. ]

[motherfucking_ghost]

I...wasn't gonna assume anything different.

[Why would she want to talk to him, anyway?]

[uptightness]

[She'd left the furball at her own residence, safely away from anything that might deem it being planted. Last thing that she needed was more screeching in her life. She felt old, older than she was, which isn't that surprising. Fuck, if her life isn't one issue after another, and most her own doing, which is just a kick in the face. Karma really is a bitch.

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.]

[motherfucking_ghost]

[He doesn't actually recognize her out of armor. It had been weird seeing Wash's face, and yet he it still felt at least faintly, vaguely familiar, probably from, y'know, being in his head and all.

Rando redhead chick doesn't ping anything for him right up until she speaks. His nonexistent face scrunches up, scrutinizing.]

I'm shocked how clearly that comes across. I was working real hard on it all night, the making armor look like shit thing. It's an acquired skill.

[uptightness]

[It honestly never even crossed her mind about her lack of armour. Nowadays, it comes and it goes, especially here when it can become drained if one isn't careful with it. Back home, retirement had sought to smooth some of her hard edges, but even then she had tended towards wearing it. Who knew what the Reds and Blues would get up to.]

In all honestly, sarcasm aside, I wouldn't be surprised if you had.

[motherfucking_ghost]

No, I'd much rather spend my time trying to look as badass as possible.

[Instead of kind of sad and pathetic and scuffed and holed.]

Not that I have to try, obviously. [Nice recovery, dipshit.] But if I had to, that'd be a way better use of my time.

[uptightness]

Right, if that's what you want to call it...

[As Carolina would certainly have another name for it. As for the latter two sentences, she only arches an eyebrow in silent judgment. There is something that does cross through certain Church's, which doesn't apply to her, but rather to the masculine side, which is the inability to hit the broad side of barns.]

[motherfucking_ghost]

Definitely what I'm calling it.

[Does she...want to talk to him? Oh. God. Maybe she knows about Tex. And Wash. Maybe she'll give him a thrashing.

He jabs a thumb over his shoulder.]

You goin' somewhere? I don't recommend the new island, personally.