lifeaftr | November Undercurrent: And We Give Thanks

November Undercurrent: And We Give Thanks

NOVEMBER UNDERCURRENT

Who: Everyone!
What: Have you told someone you loved them yet?
When: November 3rd to November 20th
Where: Everywhere!
Warnings: Nothing of note; please mark if anything comes up!

Take Me Back to the Reasons Why
The Water wishes to demonstrate their power to you, as well as just what they mean, when they suggest that they require your cooperation. They are going to bring back the harvest island of Nuidan, a generally fondly remembered island that explorers have encountered in the past. What's more, they're going to require your help to do it.

Starting November 3rd, characters will discover a simple strip of dark leather among their belongings, meant to be worn around the neck or wrist. They can disregard it, of course, but if they attempt to discard or destroy it, it will always find its way back to them, no matter how improbable this might seem. How strange...

Perhaps even stranger is the sudden appearance of a smooth slab of stone, half-submerged in the waters just off of Ensō's coast. It's an altar, and around its edges are a series of deep notches, as though something is meant to be inserted into them. In its center is a pool of water, though it curiously doesn't seem to reflect anything.

The purpose of this will only really become obvious once the month goes on. Characters will find themselves to compelled to be honest with the people around them as to why they care, why they appreciate them as people, or what they like most about them. This compulsion can vary wildly and at the player's discretion, from a gentle mental pressure to an unstoppable force, and anything in between!

The bottom line is that every time one admits to some feeling of gratitude, no matter how small or big, their little plait of leather will receive a crystal from the interaction. All crystals will be roughly the same shape, but they may vary in color, pattern, and texture. Some might be simple sticks of quartz, while others might be comprised of myriad, ever-changing swirls of color. Again, the only limit here is your imagination.

Now the presence of that strange, altar-shaped stone in the water might make a bit more sense. Those notches in its sides are the perfect size and shape to fit a crystal smoothly into any one of them. The more grateful interactions one has with others, the more crystals they will gather, and the more they can fit into the altar. As more crystals are fed to the altar, it will start to glow. The pool of water at the altar's top will start to reflect the likeness island of Nuidan in increasing clarity, as though one is peering at its likeness in a snowglobe. What's more is that the number of crystals in the altar will very obviously affect Nuidan's state: very few crystals will make the island look as though it is mostly wilderness only a handful of structures in dire need of repair, while a great deal of crystals will cause the island to look as though it is thriving, in full bloom, and in more need of harvest than maintenance.

But, ultimately, the state in which Nuidan returns to you is up to you...and how far you're willing to go to express a little gratitude. Don't worry if you don't know anyone, either - this marks a great opportunity to start doing nice things for people, even if you don't know them! You've got most of the month to get to know each other, after all.

Don't think you can get away with heaping compliments on your closest friends and companions, however; variety is the name of the game here. While you can collect all sorts of crystals for personal use from repeat interactions, you can only feed one crystal to the altar per person. That is to say, Character A can be as grateful to Character B as they like, but only one crystal from each character can be delivered to the altar. If they want to procure more for the altar's purposes, Character A will have to have a positive interaction with Character C, and so on.

Take Me Back to That Big Sky

Of course, there's a lot going on in the background as well. You're free to use this log as a catch-all for the duration of November's Undercurrent Event, as well as the other minor events listed on our Monthly Rundown post. You are very, very free to let your dreams about creepers and baby lorbies become reality, and you are always free to create your own individual logs and posts as needed.

If you have any questions, please feel free to ask them over on our Monthly Rundown post!

November Timeline

[ ♆ ] November 3rd: "And We Give Thanks" begins and lasts until November 20th
[ ♆ ] November 4th: "Aw, Man" begins and lasts until November 12th
[ ♆ ] November 11th: "The Lorblings" begins and lasts until November 25th
[ ♆ ] November 20th: Nuidan returns to the archipelago
[ ♆ ] November 21st: "Return to Your Roots" begins and lasts until November 30th

LOGS ● OOC ● STORIES ● MAIN NAVIGATION

( CODED BY BOOTYCALL )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[This is why she keeps notes, Yasha!! You gotta document that shit.]

Oh shit, that'd be sweet. Then we know how to go right there if anything swings back around. Pretty sure Drifter left their maps at the library, I could copy 'em to trace over.

[She's gonna need more paper at this rate; her book has been used a lot now that it's the only source of shit, even if it's now bagged so she can stop worrying about it getting wet or damaged.]

Any idea what they are? Or just like, pretty shit?

(Notes are far too big a hassle so Yasha is just fine for Beau to do that okay!!)

Yeah. And if we need more samples of anything we know exactly where to look. (She's not going to be able to remember exactly where everything came from once she gets around to putting it all out into the garden, after all.

Beau's next question makes her snort.)

Honestly, it's a mix. I know a few... I've been trying to read as much as I can. (She takes out a little sprig of purple flowers, twirling it between her thumb and forefinger with infinite care before she hands it to Beau.) This is called heather. Sniff it.

[God fine make her be the nerd or something, jeez. In the meantime, Beau looks with intensity as Yasha produces the small bit of flowers, taking it with just as much care as she brings it to her nose.]

Oh. Huh. That's kind of like... I mean, it's soapy, but I kinda get why it's purple.

[It takes her a second to realize how absolutely insane that sounds, and she tries to think of how to explain this.]

Like how it's delicate. You know, uh, light colors and light... smells, and stuff.

[Brilliant. She starts to hand it back just to have something to do with her hands.]

(Well, somebody has to do it and just look at Yasha. Look at her muscles. She's the jock, so it has to be Beau.

Anyway, Yasha really likes the way Beau takes the little sprig from her delicately, mimicking her own movements. That's really nice of her. Makes her smile. Beau's assessment of the heather makes her smile even more, and then snort, and she has to hide her goofy grin behind her fist.)

Okay. I didn't know humans could smell colours.

(Maybe this calls for an experiment. She takes the heather back, then glances into her bag again.) Close your eyes. I want to try something.

Yeah, well, it's-- maybe it's monk shit, you don't know.

[She resists the messy urge to throw the flowers back at Yasha, because that is the actual last thing she wants to do and would only suck for everyone involved. But an eyebrow quirk at the idea presented to her later, and Beau steadies herself on her feet and shuts her eyes.]

Alright, hit me. Not literally. I mean, I might know. Uhh-- nevermind.

[Do whatever from here Yasha, she's a mess.]

Yeah, okay.

(Monk shit... seems unlikely. Seems like Beau shit. But Yasha's getting her way because Beau has shut her eyes obediently, waiting to be presented with another flower. So Yasha picks through her little bag to find a daisy. Nice, simple. White.)

... How about: I'll hit you if you get it wrong. Then you win either way. (Maybe she's smirking. Beau's eyes are closed, she'll never know.

Yasha holds the flower underneath of her nose.)

[At least she's really good at making her face a flat line and pretending she hasn't just been Completely Dunked On, so that's what she's just gonna do. In the meantime, her mind is running through a catalog of stuff she's seen on these islands and what she might have been able to glean from Yasha's hands, even if neither of those things help when the flower is actually presented.]

That doesn't smell like anything.

[Eugh, no, it's subtle or something. Beau leans in closer, which mostly means she's tilting forward as a guess that'll help. Her eyes are somehow shut even harder as she thinks, creating that little furrow in her brow she gets when she's squinting and trying to work something out.]

Seriously, at least tell me the like... size, or something, everything smells like grass and dirt.

(Yasha watches all of this, amused. She likes that Beau's nose scrunches as if in consideration, as if she can somehow smell harder by working her face muscles more. She gives the flower a little twirl to help. Maybe waft a little of its scent toward her.)

Okay.

It's... small. I got it from a field. (She's seen Molly make daisy chains with them, threading them together by puncturing the stems with his nails.) It has a smell. You're just trying too hard.

[As much as Beau could continue to be obstinate about this, there is a part of her that wants to try here, even if it opens her up to the possibility of failure. So she steadies herself, stops wrinkling up her face to flare her nostrils and really think. A few seconds go by in silence.]

It's... one of those small ones. Poppies, kind of, but not that shape, the uh-- like mini sunflowers.

[Kind of a weed, kind of not-- or so she thinks.]

If it had a long stem... daisy?

(She waits patiently. The change in Beau's demeanor is obvious, the way she settles herself at Yasha's suggestion. Yasha in turn takes a moment to simply look at her in deep concentration, her brow smooth and unfurrowed, the neutral shape of her mouth.

She blushes when it opens suddenly as Beau starts to talk again.)

Yes.

(Embarrassed, she moves the flower and touches the tip of Beau's nose with it.)

You win.

[She wrinkles her nose again at the flower touching her, fighting down base instinct to lean forward and eat it. Instead she just opens her eyes and grins Yasha's way, full of mirth like normal.]

Does this mean I don't get to feel your hands on me again? Maybe I should be wrong more often.

[Wiiiiiink.]

(It's that smile that she likes the most. The default, cheeky grin, like she's told a joke that Yasha hasn't quite understood the punchline of yet. Like she's waiting for Yasha to figure something out.)

I dunno, (she says, expression carefully neutral,) maybe you should be careful about what you wish for.

(And she smooshes the flower into Beau's face, covering her face with her palm.)

[There's something about Yasha that Beau can never place. It's interesting in a lot of strange ways, of things she can never quite understand-- and ways she never has the time to think of it, because now there's a flower in her face and she's stumbling back with pollen up her nose. As much as she'd like to protest, Beau can't manage much else but opening her mouth, inhaling, and then sneezing at top speed until the flower shoots right off her face and onto the ground.

She looks down at it, for just a moment. And then starts laughing.]

Damn! Did you see that! Holy shit!

(Yasha, who had whipped her hand away the moment Beau had inhaled sharply in a very tell-tale way, bursts into startled laughter as she sneezes the flower unceremoniously into the dirt. A beat later Beau joins in with her, and Yasha, overcome for a sudden moment with a great surge of affection and longing– perhaps for seeing that rogue smile just one more time– leans in close to wipe away a smear of pollen decorating the top of Beau's lip like a powdered mustache, and then kisses her.

Just for a moment. But it makes time stand still. Beau's mouth is still a bit open, she's still laughing, and Yasha's thumb is at the corner of her lips.

She can't bring herself to apologise when she draws back, because she isn't in the least bit sorry for having done it. Her heart feels like it might burst, but she doesn't step back. She doesn't take her hand away. She just sort of... waits, to see what kind of reaction Beau is going to give her, and her gaze is steady.)

[It's somehow expected, and not at all known. It all happens so fast but so slow, so quickly and yet somehow something Beau feels she's been waiting too long for, an impatience in her throat that catches with her breath. It's... something. It's everything. It's too much damn thinking for a single kiss.

Beau's laughter peters off, blinking at Yasha as she tries to calibrate her thoughts while wanting just to act. Mostly, they crash together like a train and in a fit of defiance, Beau surges forward, grabs Yasha's chin with both her hands, and shoves her face right back in there. It's easily half headbutt and not organized in the least, but it's a kiss in the most Beau way possible. It was researched, it was calculated, but man is she bad at math.

It's a few seconds there before she pulls back, less of a separation and more of a wrenching them apart so she can actually look at Yasha.]

So if that was the point of the whole flower thing. You didn't need to do all the other stuff first.

[perfect.]

(Beau's enthusiastic reply draws a soft, longing sound from Yasha, her hands leaping to her arms to hold her there, hold her closer. The whole thing might be wild improvisation but it is also sort of perfect and Yasha couldn't have imagined it going any better. She wouldn't even change the half-headbutt of Beau's kiss in return even though Beau's teeth clack on hers and make her nose scrunch.

It's good. Beau smells good, her mouth is warm. It feels so, so right.)

... You started the whole flower thing, (Yasha points out, once they're reluctantly apart and looking at each other. She's still holding Beau's arms, fingers molding to the shape of her muscles.) Not me. This is your fault.

(But she's just joking. She's also smiling, shy and overwhelmingly pleased with herself all at once.)

[It's not something they were ever going to talk about, have some kind of languid conversation about feelings. If this was going to come out, it was going to be... this. Strange and sudden and somehow entirely expected. She doesn't stop Yasha from pulling back, but she also doesn't hug her arms and close herself off in the touch; it's open. More open than she thinks she's been in a long time.]

Sounds like you're giving me credit for an idea that worked.

[As if she planned this somehow. Bullshit. And yet, she gives a wink as if this was calculated and she has a brain.]

Or are you mad that I guessed it?

(Yeah, she notices that. The little changes in Beau's posture, the way she holds herself. Yasha wonders if Beau notices the same for her; the maintaining of eye contact, the easy way she folds her arms across her chest and raises an eyebrow. Most of her smile dropped, perhaps, but a flicker of it remaining at the corner of her mouth.

Her ears are a little pink.)

I think I did just do that, unintentionally.

(The wink only makes her snort.)

No. I'm... (Words are so hard sometimes. Especially when it comes to wording how she feels. Yasha pauses for a moment, thinking, then simply says the first word that comes to mind despite its textbook nature,) happy.

[It's impossible for Beau not to notice. She's hyper-aware of Yasha's movements all of a sudden, as if she's looking for some justification for what just happened while simultaneously being too gay to form coherent thought. Half of her brain is trying to buzz as the brilliant tactician she won't admit to being, and the other half has melted into "ha ha girl hot". It's not making for very solid conversation.

So instead, she just... grins. Cheeky and wide and maybe too smug, turning that fluttering in her chest into the fire that burns her forward.]

Come on, we don't have to sit here and just. Talk about it, or... I mean, do you wanna go beat something up? We could punch stuff and then maybe it'll be easier.

[thanks beau. thanks.]

(Yasha's always been drawn to that fire. It fuels Beau's wilder actions and ideas, but she likes it just as much as when it smolders too, in the dim of night when they're all winding down, when Beau is loose and easy and relaxed. There isn't an inch of Beau that isn't interesting to her. When Beau turns the full force of that sun of a smile onto her, Yasha blinks, and stares, and feels a little thrill coast the length of her spine.)

Okay, (she manages after a beat. Honestly, Beau's right, and she should say it.)

(They fight well together. They could beat something up and– well, who knows what might happen in the wake of a triumphant, sweaty victory. Or rather, Yasha knows exactly what she wants to happen, and she has a feeling Beau would not protest it. So yeah, fighting is good.) I do want to do that.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

November Undercurrent: And We Give Thanks

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WRONG TAG SORRY

ITS FINE

sometimes u just fuck up copying your tagbomb

i know this and i love you (that autocompleted as i started typing)

and then i went to space for a week and a half

i went to my room for a week and a half..... also fuck it

we're just doing our best

our best is so good

damn right it is

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