September Intro: Can't You See It On the Horizon

[lifeaftr_mods]

INTRO LOG: SEPTEMBER

Who: New arrivals, and you!
What: New souls arrive to the archipelago of LifeAftr
When: September 4th and onward
Where: Both Nastrandir and Ensō
Warnings: Mark as needed!

The island of Nastrandir remains present in the archipelago, just as it has been for the past month. By now, all the kerfuffle of the previous month's events seems to have died down as well. No more shrieking sirens, at least! There might still be an automaton or two left wandering the place, but that's only if you're unfortunate enough to run into them. They don't seem to be seeking anyone else out.

That's not to say these next few days are going to be uneventful, however.

New arrivals may awake at either island. Or they may wander between the two!

Nastrandir: Would It Keep You Awake
There's something staining the skies over Nastrandir - specifically, toward the island's east. A dark blot of something dark, possibly smoke, or steam, has started to leak lazily from some of the mountain peaks and spiral into the sky, prompting a faint rumble beneath your feet. An earthquake? Is this another island with a slumbering volcano to contend with?

As it turns out, the source of this clamor isn't an earthquake at all. It's the pounding of feet thundering ever closer.

The wildlife of Nastrandir is on the move. You'll run into them in droves as they bolt frantically toward Nastrandir's western regions - as far away from the mountain ranges as possible. It doesn't seem to matter what kind of creature they are: from the relatively docile veep to the pesky pyjacks to the predatory rocobra, you'll recognize all sorts engaged in an out-and-out stampede away from the mountain at Nastrandir's easternmost point with a frantic scramble that one could only describe as terrified. Even the winged creatures seem desperate to get away. Anyone at the westernmost coastlines might even see some of these animals, driven so wild with their apparent need to escape, launch themselves into the sea and, inevitably, drown trying to swim away from the island itself.

It can be unsettling to watch. More worryingly, however, it can be dangerous. It's terribly easy for one to get swept up in this tide of moving hooves, scales, fur, and flesh and get launched into the ocean waves yourself. That's to say nothing of one particular beast, one that you don't recognize.

It's big. It's green. And it wants YOU...to get out of its swamp.

Noinos have now been unlocked in the bestiary!
In all likelihood, you'll be hearing this wandering foe approaching before you see it. The noino is a loud, lawless creature that wanders swamps and marshy areas in a vaguely nomadic fashion, hunting prey and searching for something that might satiate its irrepressible bloodlust. Noinos aren't so much territorial as they are outright aggressive - if they sight something that looks like it might be edible or capable of putting up a fight or both, they will rush it indiscriminately with a guttural, wordless roar.

While inarticulate, the noino isn't stupid: it has the know-how to formulate tools and can craft rough armor from sturdy bits of tree and the hides and bones of its slain enemies. Most noinos carry weapons, though seldom anything more sophisticated than a heavy club or bludgeon.

A noino's impressive stature can reach up to nine feet in height, rivaled only by its breadth and girth. The good news is that its hide, though thick and tough, is more akin to leather than it is armor, and can be easily pierced and damaged through conventional means with enough force. Still, the sight of something large, greenish, and armed coming barreling at you, hooting excitedly and eager for a fight, might not be the scariest thing you've ever seen - but it might come close.

They're not the most cunning of creatures, either. Which is why, when presented with an opportunity to fight, they will promptly forget that they were fleeing from anything - and decide to charge you head-on, instead.

Ensō: If the Waters Rise and Took Your House Away
Some of you remember that the island of Ensō has now well-established security system in the form of bird-like drifts of paper. Some of you may remember even earlier that this security system was crafted specifically to combat a particularly persistent foe. And for those of you who have been with us for a good long while, you might even remember when you woke to find much of the island in the process of being submerged.

There are no wobbling, hulking waves menacing the island and plunging everything into darkened shadow. Instead, the water lapping up against the shore will begin to creep onto land, steadily, steadily, inching along the shoreline in a way that might be very familiar, to some. It moves in a way that water definitely shouldn't be moving...and just like before, it seems to be doing this for the express purpose of seeking travelers out. It oozes up along the beaches, slinks over rocks, climbs up trees, and coats nearly everything in a thin layer of rippling ocean water.

Since you all took the time to make this island secure against all invaders, this incursion isn't going to be taken quietly. Here and there, you'll be spotting flocks of paper birds swooping down onto the watery progression, dive-bombing it with flurrying pages and ink, and attempting to drive it back. If you stay close to these "birds," you'll be safe enough from the water, and whatever it's whispering. You might even be able to pitch in and help by disrupting its path, and fighting the water back as much as you physically can.

But if you're so inclined, you could stop and have a listen to what the water has to say. The last time travelers found themselves enveloped by the water, they received only vague images that pointed to a definitive goal. This time, things are a little different.

Anyone who gets close enough to the water for it to reach them will hear it: a soft, indistinct voice, whispering. The closer it gets, the more you'll start to hear the words.

"Take up my arms. Carry my protection."
No matter what you say in response or how long you wait, these are the only words you'll hear. It's best not to let it get too close to you, either; if left unchecked, the water will slip over you until you're coated head to toe and you can hear nothing but the soft streams of bubbles and the whispers of that strange voice, until you try and struggle free. It won't resist, should you pull away. But you will find that any electronics that get too close to the water or become submerged into it will react very strongly, with much twitching and sparking as though undergoing water damage, assuming they're not already broken - and those of you who have mechanical parts or are mechanical in nature will discover this a little more vigorously.

The words, though...they're not all talk.

If you follow the water as it recedes, you'll discover that a trail of silvery bubbles will manifest to form a sort of trail. Following it will involve diving beneath the waves, so it's recommended that you divest yourself of anything that might suffer additional water damage. But if you follow the trail of bubbles closely, about twenty feet from the shoreline, jutting out from the sand of the seafloor, you'll find...a gift.

Anyone who claims this gift will find it very light and easy to maneuver, and sized perfectly to suit them. Whatever material the trident is made of is sturdy and apparently nigh-indestructible. When the butt is planted into a source of water, the tines will light up with a blueish, watery glow. Once they are fully "charged," so to speak, one will find that they can launch a powerful jet of water at a range of up to fifteen feet in either a continuous stream or a flurry of various water-pellets. Once it runs out of its charge, one only needs to place it in another source of water to charge it again.

It's a gift. And, for now at least, it appears to come with no strings attached.

Enjoy it.

---

All new arrivals will awake with knapsacks, their names stitched to the front. The contents of said knapsacks can all be found in your acceptance notices!

As a final note to those who participated in the Test Drive Meme, bear in mind that those threads, if all parties involved would like, can be game canon in the form of dream-like memories involving a place very much like this one, though the layout is considerably different.

---

Feeling a tad adrift? Make sure to check the Locations Page, which has details regarding the starting areas and a handy map for those who feel better with a bird's eye view!

---

LOGS ● OOC ● STORIES ● MAIN NAVIGATION

( CODED BY BOOTYCALL )

Comments

only shooting stars break the mold | ota, will match

[yourattention]

i. i ain’t the sharpest tool in the shed (sept 4)

[Connor is having a great day. He loves this. There’s memes running around, and it’s basically the best thing this godforsaken place has ever given him. Unfortunately, he also has less than zero self-preservation skills so anyway, catch him trying to befriend the noinos. It’s entirely possible you might want to ohhhhhh idk. Stop him? From doing that? Just maybe.

Like he’s gonna keep doing it, but you can try you best to stop him from doing it.]

ii. you’ll never know if you don’t go (sept 5 on)

[Resurrecting in the Storyteller’s temple isn’t even an unfamiliar feeling at this point. He just rolls his shoulders and leaves, heading back to his house. He’s not 100% sure what the problem is this time, but it’ll probably make itself clear eventually.

Actually, it makes itself clear pretty quickly. By the third time the song in the background loops, he kind of wants to laugh. Apparently the Storyteller was so done with him this time, they didn’t even bother giving him an actual problem to teach him a lesson about dying. It's barely a nuisance to Connor, who has this problem all the time anyway.

Unfortunately for everyone else, Connor can’t tell that everyone else can also hear what’s normally reserved for him, so have fun with that All Star but every word is somebody playing in the bg. If you’re lucky, you might catch it after seven loops and be treated to I’m A Believer instead. Cheers.]

iii. the water’s getting warm so you might as well swim (sept 5 on)

[The water is meant to be a frightening thing, but Connor’s never seen it that way so when the waters rise, Connor meets them. It’s not exactly safe to swim in the open waters, but he’s never had much of a problem before unless he’s diving. Diving’s trickier, but it’s not outside his skillset so it’s a simple matter to retrieve . . . He doesn’t know what it is, actually.

But he does feel compelled to carry it around more often than not, so you know. Catch him with a magic water trident strapped to his back. It’s . . . better? Than the axe? He normally carries? Possibly?

Oh, but ignore that background music he’s also carrying around. If you can, that is.]

ii.

[postictal]

[After the latest fucking stampede, Tim was more or less forced to scramble up a tree to keep from getting trampled. The pauldron on his shoulder makes that kind of thing easier, at least - after his last expedition with Asgore, he was not coming back to Nastrandir without it.]

[He doesn't expect the sound of thundering hoofbeats and pounding feet to be intercut with the distant sound of...]

[Uh. Whatever that is.]

[Tim slides down the tree slowly, with very obvious trepidation.]

...hello?

[yourattention]

It's just me, dude.

[He's just gonna make Absolutely No Mention of the noise that's happening around him. Almost like he doesn't notice it's happening.

He does, but it hasn't been long enough that he finds it truly annoying.]

ii

[vagabone]

[He's hobbling his way back to the mana pool, minding his own business, passing Connor with a wave and a 'hey'... when he double takes, spinning around on one foot and staring. What. Is. Happening.]

Uhh... How are you doing that? Where's that music coming from?

[yourattention]

It's punishment from the Storyteller for man's hubris.

[And by "man's hubris," he means "my own stupid hubris."]

Man was not made to tame ogres.

ii

[catpiper]

[It's been wild as hell and the wate inching across every bit of this island is enough to make her leave camp-it's not the first time she's seen it do that. It's scary, but the paper guardians are doing a good job prodding it back. It's easier to stay behind them and follow their path, instead of hoping for the best.

But she doesn't expect music and when she spots Conner, who's definitely not singing, she stands on her toes, quickly kneels and pops back up again, looking to either side of him to find the mysterious singing person.]

Somebody? Somebody?

[yourattention]

Oh, hey. Are you enjoying the sweet sound of the seminal classic "All Star" by Smashmouth, but it's designed to make me regret everything?

[She's a pure cinnamon, he can't be as upfront about "I died and the Storyteller gave me this as a punishment." Sometimes, Connor knows what tact is.]

It's horrible and I love it.

the drifter | ota | i'll match your format!

[hyperlit]

[The Drifter is on Nastrandir, of course. Why would a little thing like a cataclysmic, memory-altering battle keep them from attempting to explore and map together every possible piece of this island, and every square foot they can feasibly walk upon?]

[If you're lucky, you'll catch them on the coast, picking through the dead, drowned bodies of animals who were too enthusiastic in their desire to go careening off the island and literally fell off the other side. There's a veep here that they're trying to nudge away from the waves, to roll its body to dry land so that they might trim the wool and salvage the meat, if possible. There's no reason that good food and supplies should go to waste, after all.]

[Or maybe you'll see them messing with one of the old guns they found, trying to see if it might successfully fend away a rocobra as it comes slithering toward them...only for it to hiss on past, harmlessly.]

[More likely? You'll see them picking a fight with a noino, sword drawn. They're faster than the large, clumsy thing; they can dodge the cumbersome swing of a club and the heavy tramp of its greenish feet with apparent ease. The real difficulty is actually injuring the thing. As it happens, lightning-quick slashes from their hard light blade aren't doing much to penetrate its thick hide.]

[That doesn't mean they're about to give up. They're more or less incapable of it.]

coast

[sonsofhorus]

He had planned to never return to this place, and maybe somewhere in the back of his processor he'd already known it was irrational, his temper getting the better of his sense. The effects had already reached across the sea once and seized him while he slept, so what would it change? Still, he'd been angry, if quietly so.

But not angry enough that he didn't end up listening when he'd seen the Drifter leaving and questioned their reasons. Maybe staying busy is the better choice, anyway.

And so he has come back here after all, walking along the rocky coast. There are corpses everywhere now, though that much he is accustomed to - and there is the Drifter again, scavenging, which is of course entirely respectable work.

"What happened here? I don't remember all these."

[hyperlit]

They glance up with only a mild startle. It's rare for someone to manage to sneak up on them, but the Drifter was...distracted at the time, and they hadn't been focusing overly on the sound of someone drawing near.

There are a lot of bodies to pick through. Some are more useful than others.

stampede
ran into the ocean

They're not entirely clear on why a mass amount of animals would do this either.

beau | ota, will match!

[lesbeau]

i. [enso] safety isn't what is seems when / being safe looks similar to you being dead (or sleeping)

[Beau is giving herself a few days off of Nastrandir. She's spent the better part of the last month running around coralling people and getting the biggest headache of her life from the drone of those sirens and residual magic. Not to mention the fact that people are missing, one of them the girl she keeps her closest eye on. So naturally, Beau finds herself on the shoreline-- Yasha would look for storms. Maybe she can spy one out here too.

She finds something else, instead, as the seawater laps at her ankles.

Beau doesn't carry electronics on the regular, and her outfits are made to get dirty, so there's no hesitation when it seems to genuinely not be hurting her. Experimentally, she tries to escape just once, and feeling it recede immediately goes still again. She doesn't know what's going to happen, but this feels almost like what Fjord has said about his dreams--

By the time she gets that thought, it's too late to go back. Instead, she's following the lead, and before she knows it she's back on the shoreline, dripping with seawater and clutching a trident that she stares at maybe a bit too wide-eyed.]

... Fuck, did I just become a warlock? Shit.

ii. [wildcard] i am not afraid now / give me to the waves now

[Feel free to hit me up with stuff for the first prompt or some other meeting- happy to set it up with you!! Just PM me or hit me at cancerously and we'll plot it out.]

heyyooo

[devilstongue]

[ Their little place just seems way too big right now. He can still hear Jester's laugh and Fjord's voice every time he steps inside and it burns inside him with a pain he can't just laugh away. He can't go back with them. He can't just hope he'll see them again later, because he never will.

...and how fucking selfish isn't the wish that they hadn't left this hellhole?

Mollymauk Tealeaf drinks, fights and jokes away all his issues, but the thoughts still haunt him in the moments in-between. This place is the closest to hell he has ever been, and not just because it likes to fuck with them.

Because he loses his friends all over again.

He doesn't want to be in his head right now, but there are no drugs, no wine and nobody wants to fuck in this place - so he still slinks back to the stupid empty cottage with its stupid emptiness and slides down on the floor with his back against a bed.

Yasha's and his, before they switched the homes around. Yasha's gone Yasha-ing. He's not sure if he could take it if that meant she was also gone forever.

Molly kind of wants to scream, honestly. In fact, he's just about to do so when Beau enters, and he just... ends up grabbing her arm instead. ]

Sit with me.

[lesbeau]

[It feels stupid that she even went out and left the house when the others disappeared.

As much as the Nein had split into "two" houses, the living arrangements for the five of them were never as clear-cut as sleeping arrangements. More often than not Beau would pass out across Jester's bed, awaken to the other woman's horn jabbing right into her belly button. Yasha would disappear and Molly would text over a picture of them spooning, much to Beau's chagrin. Fjord would mean to go back to his side with Molly and would just end up passing out on whatever passed for a couch. They were together. They were.

It feels all the more jarring when Jester can't be found, when calls to Fjord's stone fall silent. But Yasha was the final straw, even if that departure felt the most normal of all. Maybe that's what made her think she might be able to find her, that Beau could convince her to come back somehow, as if she had any goddamn words in her head to say anyway.

She ends up back at their place like a defeat, like a bruise on her heart, and seizes up when the arm grabs her. In a second, she almost hits him, and stops as the voice hits her ears.

But she sits. She does, legs crossed for a few seconds before Beau can find it in herself to speak.]

So fuck this, huh?

[Her throat feels dry, voice strained. She's spent a lot of time today yelling. As usual, it's gotten her nowhere.]

i

[neighborofthebeast]

Are you a mermaid?

<sub>[The voice comes from the rocky shore. Roman had been fighting with his curiosity all day, watching the strange waves but not daring to get near. He couldn't swim and also there might be whales out there and fuck that. SO he's goofing around the tide pools and seeing how far he can throw rocks when a whole-ass girl just up and emerges from the sea holding a sick weapon.]

[His tail lashes excitedly as he waits for an answer.]</sub>

[lesbeau]

[She snaps from her thoughts when he speaks, head coming up to attention and find who's talking. And... wow. If he's looking at her with anticipation, she's giving him a pretty pointed stare back.]

Uhhh, not right now.

[Well that wasn't like, an answer, but it's also not wrong. Her eyes don't leave him though, and she points at his tail.]

Are you a dragon?

[counterblows]

[Wash is still sopping wet from the ocean waves himself, sloshing out from the sea with a trident in hand, looking more than a little dazed over why the hell any of this happened in the first place. At least, he realizes a second later, he's not the only one.]

[Looks like Beau got the same treatment.]

...you too, huh?

[lesbeau]

[She jumps just a bit at the voice, swinging her head around to address them and causing loose wet hair to whap across her eyes. Just as hurriedly she takes her free hand and shoves them on top of her head, so Beau can properly see what's up.]

Oh shit. Didn't even see you down there.

[Maybe her curiosity had taken her too far. It was one thing to be investigating a voice and another thing entirely to be-- well, this looks like a big deal. Beau's eyes flick from her trident to his, comparing them quickly.]

You got any idea what the fuck that was?

kravitz | ota, will match!

[deathfindsaway]

i. [enso] and oh, poor atlas / the world's a beast of a burden

[And unlike some others who may be calm and accepting around this water, people may not just be drawn to the commotion of just the paper birds. Rather, there's now paper birds, the sound of a blade hitting sand, and yelling into the mix.

Kravitz is at the edge of the treeline, one long stream of water extending far above the rest of the wave attempting to engulf his foot. The birds are hovering nearby, and Kravitz is taking to sinking his scythe into the sand where he can-- it makes good borders for him, and it also seems like he might be trying to capture some of it. How useful that will be, well... it was a thought. Not necessarily a correct one.

Instead, mostly people will just hear him yelling.]

Don't you whisper things like that and try to escape! Who are you! What is it you want-- get back here!!

[And there he goes, jogging closer to the wave to once again attempt to trap some... water. From the ocean. Even with the context he likely looks totally nuts.]

ii. [wildcard] ‘cause she’s a cruel mistress / and a bargain must be made

[Feel free to hit me up with stuff for the first prompt or an additional meeting, happy to do anything! Just PM me or hit me at cancerously and we'll plot it out.]

i

[demonicmiracle]

[At some point, the weird shit this place can pull is going to stop surprising Crowley, but today sure isn't that day. The little paper birds are ridiculous. The water is unsettling, especially with the lingering memories from Nastrandir in his mind, and he's mostly been avoiding it all as best he can. Stick to high ground, stick by Aziraphale, try not to lose his fucking mind again.

But he can't always predict where the water's going to be, and anyway, the sound of shouting draws his attention.]

You alright there, reaper?

[deathfindsaway]

[Unfortunately, Crowley's question carries with it the implication that anything in Kravitz' life, undeath, and life again was ever "alright". Rather, his existence of one long sentience looked more like this than anything else- yelling at something beyond his control and having a bit of a hernia about it. It's hard to say if Kravitz would fall more one way or another on the angel and demon scale, but he can always be reliably classified by finding dumb shit and being stressed with it's implications.

His head turns when Crowley addresses him, thinking for a moment this may be some sort of prank, but he's good at telling when he's being goofed on by now. Instead he just drops his shoulders, scythe still extended towards the water like a warning.]

I'm fine, I just-- if this being would have a civil conversation this would be so much easier.

[Meanwhile, the wave is... somehow actually stalled at scythe-point. Go figure, huh.]

i

[scourgingstars]

Is this supposed to be a joke?!

[Speaking of totally nuts, Ardyn. Holding a trident and yelling at the ocean. Like a sane person, completely having no idea Kravitz is even there.]

Oh, I'm sure you think this is quite funny, don't you?! Well, you can-

[What follows is a string of curses is JRPG Latin that are not suitable for all audiences.]

agent washington | ota | i'll match your formatting!

[counterblows]

[His name is Agent Washington. He's a former agent of Project Freelancer. He knows who he is now. He's free of the memories that bled into him, and he's no longer losing memories every time he looks away. He doesn't have trouble breathing, and his neck doesn't hurt.]

[He's not dead, and he's not shaking from the aftershocks of dying.]

[If the odd memory of arriving on Nastrandir by boat rocks against the confines of his mind, he just has to shut his eyes and concentrate until it fades. He remembers splashing through the shoreline. Lets it recede. Remembers a robot falling to pieces beneath the pressure of relentless attack. Holds still and forces the memory back.]

[It keeps trickling into the back of his mind. Maybe that's how it feels so natural for him to submerge himself beneath the spray on the shores of Ensō and kick off after the trailing bubbles at the behest of the whispers emanating from the waves themselves. It's not like he sets out to obey any commands intentionally. He just...ends up doing it, without thinking much of it.]

[Wash emerges from the water, sopping wet and blinking saltwater from his eyes and staring at the trident in his hands.]

...huh.

[This is probably fine.]

Legion | OTA

[forwearemany]

(At first, they approach curiously.

But the water attacks their toes, makes them jerk and spark and they stumble back and barely catch themselves from a potentially fatal fall. Immediately they move away, but the water is relentless and ever encroaching, and they are damaged, crippled, scrambling.

The sound of sparks and screeching chatter, at least, ought to attract some attention. Perhaps you would like to help them?)

closed to horatio

[catpiper]

[The water's troubling for many reasons. The first being: she can't swim and the creeping, inching waves spell trouble if she gets too close. Whatever affiliation they had on the previous island is gone and she doesn't trust it to not drag her under.

She doesn't trust it to not go after the animals on the farming islet either. It's probably scary for them-those creatures can't understand 'stay by the paper birds' or 'hide in a house.' They don't understand much, really. Her big plan had been to bribe them with grass somehow. Even the ones that didn't particularly eat that.

But she's only [one] person and thankfully-

Horatio's here too.]

Are you trying to talk to the animals?

[sonsofhorus]

[Horatio had, a bit grudgingly, gone to Nastrandir in the hopes of getting something more constructive done than stewing in anger, and he'd made the short walk to the mana pool early enough that he hadn't seen the start of all this. But it was in full swing when he returned, and the less said of his close call on the little housing islet, the better. He'd already had everything that mattered; there was nothing to do but flee before the waters took him out completely.

For now he'll take his chances on the larger islet before he lets this whole mess push him to make camp back on Nastrandir, and staying near the animals had seemed like it'd spare the little paper constructs some extra work. So he's there, leaning against the fence and feeling decidedly rattled, when she appears.]

...do they talk?

[He pauses, staring at them, then recovers and shakes his head.] Uh, I mean, I wasn't. I was just looking for a place to get away from the water and I thought I'd stay with them for a while. Are you all right?