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

[journalname]

Yes, that is it.

[oh no.....]

I'm sorry.

[counterblows]

Why're you...

[Oh. Oh, okay. Hang on a minute.]

Did you kill me?

[journalname]

[Asgore shrugs miserably.]

I do not know. But it is quite possible. 

[counterblows]

What, you mean you don't know? How do you not know?

[And we've hit screechy Wash territory. Excellent work, all.]

[journalname]

[Asgore shrugs miserably.]

They took me away. I did not see what happened to you.

[But it was bad enough that he thinks it quite likely Wash died right there, alone in a burning forest. There was so much blood - he thinks he was pinned to the ground - ]

[counterblows]

But we fought. You think you killed me?

[He doesn't remember this. God, he doesn't know. There's a lot, he's realizing, that he doesn't know. What the fuck happened to him?]

[journalname]

I do.

[He hadn't been entirely certain at the start of this conversation, but by now he is. This is definitely all his fault.]

If you would like recompense, I will not stop you.

[Wash does still have a gun on him, and an eye for an eye is fine as long as it's Asgore's eye.]

[counterblows]

Rec - what? You want me to kill you back?

[His voice pitches up again in apparent shock.]

What the hell is wrong with you?

[journalname]

I did not say that.

[He sort of did, but that's neither here nor there.]

But if it would make you feel better, that would be alright. You seemed to be thinking about it. [He just kinda. Nods at the gun?]

[counterblows]

I was... [Was he thinking about it?]

[He doesn't...know anymore. He must've been. Right? He had the gun. He was prepared to shoot. He's always prepared to shoot.]

Wouldn't you just come back too?

[journalname]

Yes, but you would have at least a few days before that happened.

[And suffering a death penalty himself would only be fair, after all the people he has killed. Heck, maybe his other horn might grow back!]

[counterblows]

A few days for what? Do you expect that to make me feel better? I don't even remember what killed me!

[journalname]

[Judging from Asgore's expression, he kinda did think that might make Wash feel a little better? But he can also see how saying so might not be helpful.]

I - [I could tell you. But he remember how horrified of him Wash had been, how he'd screamed that he was a monster, and he - he doesn't want to.] - what would you like me to do, then?

[counterblows]

Why do I need you to do anything? I barely even remember you!

[He certainly doesn't remember the way he was pinned to the ground with a trident, or the way Asgore accused him of child murder, or the intensity of their last meeting. All he has is a dim pulse of recognition that comes with the name, and...not much else.]

[journalname]

It is only right that I do something.

[Even if he wasn't responsible for this, he would want to help. Wash is lost and confused; someone should help him. But now, after everything he did, he has to do something. He has to. How many murders will he face no consequences for?]

[counterblows]

Unless you can fill me in on everything I've missed out on, I don't know what else you can do.

[Who has time for a full history-dump, anyway? Those are exhausting as well as exhaustive, and there's no guarantee he'd even remember it fully, anyway.]

[journalname]

Oh...

[Can he? Not...not really, probably. He'd say he knows Wash decently well, but not so well that he knows what happened to him during every single catastrophe that's ever struck here.]

...what if I took you back to your home? Tex or Church may be there.

[counterblows]

[Which Church? He asked that already. Tex? He's not sure that even makes sense. But Asgore says it with enough conviction to make it sound like it's a possibility, at least.]

[He clearly feels bad about the whole ordeal. It doesn't read like he's planning to flip this on its head and turn it into a betrayal. Even if he is - Wash is armed. And this guy...isn't. He doesn't look like he is, anyway. Right?]

...all right. Sure. Let's do that.

[journalname]

Very well. It is this way.

[He'll turn to go first. Wash has no reason to trust him at his back.]

We will have to go to the next islet over, but it is not too far.

[counterblows]

Doesn't matter how far it is. Just...show me where.

[His tone is grim, but there's resolve in the way he follows at Asgore's heels. Even if he's being led into a trap, he's armed. Where else does he have to go?]

[journalname]

[Asgore nods. He's quiet for the rest of the walk, unless Wash happens to say something. They head towards the circle of houses at the center of the islet before going north, over the short wooden bridge leading to the next. If it's a trap, it's not a very good one; all of it is pretty open area, and the trails are clearly well-traveled.

The Freelancers' home is the nearest one from this direction. Asgore's never actually been inside, but he does know which one it is.]

Here we are.

[He can't tell from here if anyone else is home, so he's not sure if he should leave...?]

[counterblows]

I live here.

[It's a flat statement, though it's more of a question. The place doesn't stir even vague memories, and it looks like...a significant downgrade from what he's accustomed to.]

...seriously?

[journalname]

...yes?

[Asgore has no idea what the problem here is.]

[counterblows]

With...multiple people. [Uh. Okay.]

This isn't just a...you're not...setting me up for anything. If I wait here, I'm not going to get attacked by cavemen wondering why I stole their hovel.

[journalname]

...all the houses on the islands are about the same. There was no civilization here at all when we arrived.

[Wow, don't be rude about the cob houses? You didn't even see the old shacks!]

I thought you knew Church and Tex from home. I'm sorry if that was not the case...