lifeaftr | 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!

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 )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Just a moment... [Muffet sizes up the situation, spinning out a line of purple magic in between a pair of her hands.]

[Planting her feet firmly on solid ground, she tosses the string of light out at Michael.]

Here, grab hold.

[Oh, that's neat. He does so! It feels...like something.]

What is it?

[If Michael is sensitive to that sort of thing, it feels like... feelings. A strong, deep sense of perseverance, the will to continue on...]

[If he's not, it just feels vaguely silky and clinging. Which is still a little odd, for something apparently made of solid light.]

In general, purple magic. At the moment, a lifeline.

[Bracing herself, Muffet hauls back on the line, trying to pull Michael out of the water. She's surprisingly strong, given how short she is.]

[Ah, that's right out of that weird monster-soul of hers. Neat!

Michael holds on and, when he's got the freedom to do so, starts trying to kick his legs free and stumble back towards Muffet. If Muffet's able to sense it, she's got a literal evil demon hanging onto the line.]

Boy, this is just solidified emotion, huh?

[Muffet is honestly still not sure what the fuck is going on with this guy. She can't quite tell for sure without actually trying to pull out his soul and look at it, but he just feels... odd.]

[Then again, he's not even from her world, so there's plenty of room for weirdness out there. Probably she should ask about it sometime when they're dealing with less quicksand, she'd feel awkward bringing it up now.]

One could call it that, yes.

[When Michael's close enough, she'll reach out a hand to help pull him back up onto more solid ground.]

They've been referred to as "traits" or "virtues", as well, but the concept is largely the same. [Curious, she adds:] Do you have magic, in your world?

Oh, yeah. Not on Earth, though - any humans from there would say it's not real.

[He takes her hand to help pull himself up. Once on solid ground, he grimaces down at his shoes and pant legs - which are both now disgusting - and starts trying to stamp some of the mud off.]

Man, I miss it. Didn't keep any powers that would help with this... [He could create a hose or something, maybe, but that seems like a waste of limited resources.]

Oh? Are you an alien, perhaps? [Listen, she's heard about aliens from Shepard, they sound cool. Why the fuck shouldn't they have magic, honestly.]

[The complaint earns a nod of long-suffering agreement.]

It's terribly inconvenient. I can still do everything I ought to be able to manage, but it all takes more effort or doesn't work quite as well. As though we needed more of a challenge around here.

I'm a demon. We exist on a separate plane that functions as the afterlife for humans.

[Which is a very kind way of putting it, but he doesn't actually know what concept of "demons" monsters have!]

Could do pretty much whatever I wanted there. Now everything I make vanishes after a day.

[They tend to be more into angels, really. She's vaguely heard of the concept, but she's not at all sure what it entails in practice- she knows it sounds rather ominous, but to most humans so does "monster". So she'll try to reserve judgement, just yet.]

My, that is a rather large change- though I have to admit, the "pretty much" in that sentence does raise questions. [What can't demons do? It's an intriguing thought.]

I suppose I should be reassured to know that at least one world out there has their afterlife confirmed- no one seems entirely certain about the details, on my Earth.

That's for the best. I haven't heard of an afterlife yet that's decent.

[Not that he's saying it would be better for them to have none, and fade into nothing. But if they can spend their lives not worrying about what comes next, or at least not knowing it's bad, that's good.]

We have laws. Higher-ranking demons. I couldn't overpower any of them.

Ah. Less reassuring, then.

[Oh well, it was a nice thought while it lasted.]

How exactly do demons determine rank, if it's not rude to ask? [Is there an aptitude test? Some sort of hellish SAT? One can't help but wonder.]

[Shrug]

Politics. Infighting. Sometimes, whether or not you're actually good at your job.

August Aftermath: Make Me Okay

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