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

And not remembering why you woke up in the temple or how you got here or why you're talking to me, that's fine?

Who the fuck are you?

Agent Washington. [Obviously. No trouble there!]

Are you okay? Do you not remember something now?

Bullshit. You just forgot a whole bunch of shit, now you forgot a bunch of other shit, and none of that bothers you. At all. You, with the photographic memory.

It's bothering you.

[There's a sensation that he's missing something important, but he can't place it. Can't figure it out. And getting worked up about it is likely to just incense Church even further, so.]

Because you're acting like a pod person! And at this rate with all the island fuckery, maybe you are!

You've told me you've died here before. What happens after that, Wash. Do you wake up in the temple with fucked up memories?

[Look, even if he's worried about it, the priority here is clearly Church's well-being. He's the one that's freaking out, right?]

I woke up in the Temple. I...I don't know about fucked up. I just don't remember some of it.

[...]

I think I got shot.

Yeah you did! You got shot in the face! Repeatedly! Ohhhhh my god, maybe dying over there fucked you up over here.

Over...where?

[Where did he die?]

What do you mean, over here?

On the new island? You forgot about the new island. You remember this island, but you don't remember the new swampy island we were exploring.

[A moment as he frowns, considering this.]

We came on boats. We sailed there.

[Those memories aren't gone, either. Just...in pieces. Awesome.]

...You sailed there. Or--did you? Did you actually sail there, or did you come through the mana pool and you're only thinking about boats because that's what the island wanted you to think?

I remember sailing there. I mean, we...we went there to make them pay. The blasphemers, the -

[He stops, catching himself mid-sentence.]

No. No. That...isn't right.

[If he had breath, it would catch. The eerie stillness from Church will just have to do instead.]

That's...what the island made you think.

Made me think. So which one's real?

[He only has some memories, and half of them aren't even his? What kind of unfair game is this?]

You've already determined that sailing to an island to kill the blasphemers doesn't sound right.

I mean, you were on that island, and you ended up trying to kill the blasphemers, but only because the island put someone else's memories in your head, just like it made other people think they lived on that island for generations and needed to attack the intruders.

And the same thing...happened to you.

[That's not a memory - it's more of a guess. He's not one hundred percent certain of it, because he's not one hundred percent on anything right now.]

...Yeah. It didn't happen to everyone, but...a lotta people. On both sides.

That's how I got shot. Isn't it.

[It's not really a question. He's pretty sure he already knows the answer.]

Well, I mean, you get a war waging on both sides, people are gonna get shot.

Like, even people who couldn't shoot were able to find things to shoot and magically have the skill to use 'em. I think new island's got old guns that can still work.

Even I got shot. I just didn't die from it cuz, not like a killing blow or anything.

Are you okay?

[See? Wash's concern was totally warranted here. Church got shot. That's, like, bad.]

Yeah. Kinda got a hole in my gut, but...robot. I don't really have guts per se.

Right.

[Wash hunches his shoulders slightly, glances down at his helmet.]

...can I put this back on now?

...Ssssso long as you don't feel like you're choking to death I guess?

I don't. I mean, I feel...

[He won't say "okay." He won't say "fine." Clearly, that's a sore spot right now.]

I don't feel like I'm choking. I just feel...confused. And the way you're talking, I'm not sure that's going to go away right now.

I mean, welcome to every god damn day on shithole island, honestly.

(no subject)

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