lifeaftr | January Undercurrent: Growing Pains

January Undercurrent: Growing Pains

JANUARY UNDERCURRENT

Who: Everyone!
What: Hey bud, how's it growing?
When: January 3rd to January 20th
Where: Everywhere!
Warnings: This event has a potential for body horror and character death; please mark anything as it comes up!

A Notion Growing Inside Me

Those of you who weren't with us the last time Umui entered the archipelago didn't have to contend with the lethal illness known as the Overgrowth personally, but anyone who remembers it probably doesn't remember it fondly. Fortunately, this isn't quite the same strain of the illness that you had to contend with the last time. It's not unrelentingly and uncompromisingly fatal, for one! That's always nice.

For those that need a primer on the Overgrowth, it is best described as a sickness that overcomes you with floral growth both inside and outside your body that can only be cured by expressions of emotional honesty. Expressions of truths, affections, and admissions of things that you have hidden from yourselves or from others were critical in dispensing of the illness. These could be as simple as admissions of past sins or the revealing of secrets, or as grandiose and overt as confessions of guilt or love. That general idea will remain more or less the key means of curing this strain as well, though the stakes fortunately aren't as high this go around! Which is to say, if you fail to have any grand emotional epiphanies by the time this event ends, you aren't doomed to suffer a character death; symptoms will simply dissipate come January 20th.

So what's this sickness going to be like in this particular instance, then? We're so glad you asked!

You can go the standard route, of course. Adventurers' first brush with the illness saw the following afflicted upon them:

[ ♆ ] Stage One: Germination. Initial symptoms involve fever, coughing fits, numbness to nerves and extremities, and general joint stiffness. Difficulty breathing or performing other basic functions will often occur. Fatigue, difficulty sleeping, and intense weakness or dizzy spells are also liable to occur as the flowers begin to harvest nutrients from the body. This will also generate extreme thirst and periods of intense nausea. Tremors and the sensation of something "itching" from inside are also common. The end of Stage One is usually marked by the act of vomiting or coughing up flower petals or spores, along with a not-insignificant amount of blood.

[ ♆ ] Stage Two: Budding. The floral growths spread more completely inside the body, and begin to grow on the skin or exterior. Difficulty performing basic functions will increase as, for example, airways become obstructed and flowers grow around joints and pinch them still. The site of affliction also yields rashes, blisters, and blood sores as the flowers sprout from the skin. The rate of vomiting or coughing up floral growths will increase dramatically. Flowers often bloom quickly, and very painfully. Numbness in affected areas will increase, oftentimes rendering parts of the body completely inert - a pair of legs claimed completely by blooms, for example, will no longer work.

This was followed by Stage Three: Bloom, which resulted in character death. However, this strain will not advance to this style of Stage Three. All symptoms will disperse by the time Umui resurfaces.

This strain is also rather more erratic, which can make emotional repression more of an inconvenience than a horrifying circumstance. For those who would rather not play around with intense sickness (or who have already endured this once before), you have the option to go that route if you like! With this variant of the Overgrowth, one can become, for example, so embarrassed that they hiccup up a flower. A vicious denial of their feelings may cause them to spontaneously erupt into a rash of dandelion puffballs, seemingly immediately. You might end up walking around with a bouquet for an arm for a few hours. Perhaps mortifying, but certainly not fatal! Isn't that nice?

Unless, of course, you want it to be...

I Can't Fight It Much Longer

Now, while the Bloom Stage isn't present in this strain, it has mutated its progression into a rather nasty end stage. Those of you who succumb a little too readily to this illness, who don't fight off the emotional repression quickly, who don't admit those difficult truths to yourself or confess to whatever you're bottling up, you'll be faced with a potentially horrifying transformation. Potentially, because it is your choice whether or not you see fit to commit your character to that fate - as stated above, this option might simply skip over your character entirely, and the worst they'll have to deal with are cartoonishly over-the-top effects that disperse in due time.

But maybe not all of you will be so lucky. Some of you might discover for yourselves how this particular variant of the Overgrowth has mutated.

We call this mutation Stage Three: Outbreak.

In this final Stage, those beautiful blooms wither and harden into a fungus-like carapace as the illness grows into the victim's brain and shuts down virtually all higher functions. This can sometimes render them almost wholly recognizable, but not always - oftentimes, it's very obvious who this person once was. The victim is reduced to a carrier of the virus, which causes them to act the way you'd expect most viruses to act: becoming intent on spreading. Advanced brain functions such as speech, rational thought, and so on tend to shut off and become wholly inaccessible.

Now that the victim's body is no longer fighting the Overgrowth, the illness lends them increased speed, strength, and durability, making them dangerous foes indeed. They will usually seek to infect others by whatever means necessary - usually via biting or exuding breathable spores - but in some cases, they will simply reduce to base instincts, and just outright attempt to attack and kill whoever is closest.

Unfortunately, at this point, there is no hope of a cure; it's hard to make someone be emotionally honest when they're capable of little more than blunt, animal instinct. At this point, you can either wait for the Stage Three symptoms to disperse come Umui's return, or take manners into your own hands. You can probably guess what that might entail.

If you decide to put your Overgrown friends out of their misery, this will count as a character death. If it comes to that, be sure to let us know on the Deaths page! Death penalties, however, will not be reduced for this event.

Try to Get Through It

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 January's Undercurrent Event, as well as any of the other minor events listed on our Monthly Rundown post. And, of course, 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 the Questions header on our Rundown post!

January Timeline

[ ♆ ] January 1st: "This Sucks" begins and lasts until January 10th
[ ♆ ] January 3rd: "Growing Pains" begins and lasts until January 20th
[ ♆ ] January 11th: "No Water is Safe" begins and lasts until January 19th
[ ♆ ] January 20th: Umui returns to the archipelago
[ ♆ ] January 21st: "Impawsible Geometries" begins and lasts until January 31st

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( CODED BY BOOTYCALL )

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That's...you saw him.

[Does he count as someone's worst fear if he can't remember it? Apparently so. The surprise is evident in Wash's tone only slightly before he recovers.]

[And maybe giving Church some of those answers he's asking for might count for something.]

Carolina tracked him down. I don't know about "justice," but...he's been dead for a while now. I think for him that was easier than having to come to terms with anything he actually did.

[There's no small amount of bitterness there. In some ways, he did get off scott-free. He went out on his own terms. Never had to face the authorities for any of it.]

I saw...someone. But he definitely had the voice. I remember the voice. Maybe I picked up the look from your head? Or some...vague weird memory I still have buried deep down somewhere.

...He kept wanting me to come back. Like. Like he could fix me. I...

[He trails off. Is it weird, the idea of being fixed, of made whole again, is it weird that it's terrifying? He'd like it if it were possible, but at the same time, what kind of person would he be then? He wouldn't be himself, would he? Or would he be himself, just...better?

Either way, he wasn't going to trust anything out of the Director's mouth.]

Anyway. Good. That he's dead. [It's not victorious or angry or anything, just. Flat acceptance. The Director of Project Freelancer is dead, and Carolina had a hand in it. He might have to thank her, later.]

What he did outlived who he was. I'm not sure how we're supposed to feel about that.

[The voice. That was the thing that stood out most. Even the Freelancers heard him more than they saw him, most of the time. And if there were any part of him left in the vestiges of Church's memory, it'd make sense that it'd be those.]

[It also makes a dark sort of sense that he'd be who the Alpha would see, when he imagines the worst case scenario.]

[The man who tore him apart.]

Did it...I mean, hearing that must have been...hard. [He's trying not to overstep here, but the idea of something you don't remember telling you that he could restore parts of yourself you also don't remember sounds more than a little unsettling.]

Scared the shit out of me. Yeah, I admit it. Him trying to tempt me back in the fold. Calling me by--that name.

God, and it's not like it's not tempting, in a way. He even had a good point. I told him, I screamed at him, the rest of them are gone. They're...y'know, they're dead. And he said in a place like this? With all of time and space flexible, you from the future, me from the--me from where I'm from? We could find the others. Or they could show up.

[He grows quiet for a few long moments, and pulls his knees up to his chest. It involves much more labor than it should, and yeah, he kind of regrets it, and he can only hug them with one arm, the other hanging fairly heavy. It's weird to be so vulnerable with Wash, and yet, easier than with anyone else in a way. What's there to hide, when Wash is the one that knows it all?]

I'd never trust that southern fuck.

Well, you've got better instincts than the people who gave him all that power in the first place.

[It's a weak joke, maybe, but...talking about this kind of stuff is supposed to help. And he doesn't want to spark something he can't take back.]

...better instincts than a lot of people, honestly.

I mean, telling him to go fuck himself even if you literally came from him isn't nothing.

[Not even Carolina was that strong. Not at first.]

Helps that I know who he is and what he did. You guys just have hindsight for that, and ain't that just a bitch.

And it's not like I feel a-a connection to him or anything. I don't feel like I'm him, or like his, I dunno, son or something. He's just some dick who I know did some awful shit. With a stupid accent I'm glad I don't have.

[He almost goes quiet at that.]

[Ain't that a bitch.]

[Yeah. You could say that.]

I guess there's some...confirmation that you're not a one for one recreation of him. No matter how much I'm sure he would've said otherwise. You didn't do what he did, and he wasn't one for facing down...anything he'd done.

I don't know what I'd do if I met actual-him. Shoot? Shoot him, probably? Toss him in fucking lava? I'm sure you guys would help. Given how badly he fucked you over.

[He's not super sure about Tex, but on the other hand, throwing people in lava seems about up her alley, too.]

Hey Wash? There anything you need to let out, y'know, for the flower thing? That you wanna share with me. Or like. Anything at all, I guess. Maybe for once I shouldn't dominate a conversation.

He was here, a little while back.

[Not that much came of it. Killing him wasn't going to take anything very far, and it'd be too damned easy anyway. Without his resources, without the Project at his back, the threat level he actually presented here was...negligible. At best.]

[Mostly it was just a threat to Carolina's emotional stability. And C.T.'s. And his own.]

[None of that matters anymore, it feels like.]

[He rubs at the back of his neck, where more buds are already beginning to take root. They always seem to gather there - the point where the A.I. port was put into the base of his skull.]

I can take a guess, but I don't know how much help it'd be. I just know that these - [He yanks out one of the yellow flowers and spins it between his fingertips.] - were, uh, they were C.T.'s. Um, Connecticut's. From when she was here.

Oh. I haven't--I, uh, don't remember ever meeting her. Man, seems Freelancers are just magnetically attracted to--

Wait, the Director, he was here? He was actually, physically, like really here?! Man, I--I mean I'm both glad and angry I missed that.

[He wouldn't remember her. Although she - she did. She knew a version of him. And he's not going to bring that up, because talking to Church about other versions of himself is hard enough without introducing multiversal iterations into the equation.]

[So instead, he'll focus on the obvious.]

Yeah. Not for very long, though. There...wasn't a lot he could do here without any of the resources he had back home, so mostly he just got pissy at all of us and gave Carolina a hard time.

Gave Carolina a hard time. [He glances over at Wash, and he means to look him in the face, but he finds himself instead looking at the flowers. At the flowers coming from the port. It's good, he thinks, that it's impossible to tell what he's specifically looking at.] Not you?

I've seen worse things.

[He picks the petals from the coltsfoot bloom in hand, one by one, creasing them up into dark little balls and flicking them away.]

Spent most of my time trying to keep Connie - uh, C.T., from blowing his brains out. Wasn't going to help anybody. He'd just come back, and probably give us even more shit.

But it'd be cathartic, at least. And maybe he'd come back worse for it. Might've been satisfying. Doing nothing sounds like it wasn't going to help anybody either.

And you're kind of an emotionally stupid fuck at times, you know that? [He's not mad, in saying it, just. Stating it. Because he is.]

Pot, kettle.

[He screws up the rest of the flower in his hand and lets it drop to the ground.]

Look, I don't know what to tell you. For years I had to keep quiet or risk everything, so I'm not really the best at opening up when that's the kind of thing that would've gotten me killed. Or worse.

I know, but saying that you've had worse when we're talking about the guy that was primary to destroying your life is kind of...

I mean. You're allowed to be angry, dude. You're allowed to be angry at the things done to you and the things you've lost, and you're allowed to want his horrifying genius ass six feet under, even if he would've just crawled back out again.

He wasn't as good at destroying my life as I was.

[It's mostly a joke. Mostly. Not really, though. That's kind of the sad thing.]

After all those years I spent angry? I think right now I'm just tired.

...Tired of being angry, huh. [Hard to relate, but he can imagine it, really.]

It wasn't you, Wash. You know that, right? Whatever you did to make things worse, you only did because of what happened. Fuck, man, you went crazy, right? Because you had all the crazy injected right into your brain. Somehow you came out the other side of things ripped out for sanity's sake.

Some of it was me.

[He doesn't have a helmet, so he can't hide the instinctive, pained smile that bites into one side of his face, and - god. God, it's so uneven it hurts.]

Me choosing to try and use Epsilon as my ticket out of the whole mess. Me...failing to make any of it worth it. I didn't kill the Meta, I didn't bring any justice to the Director, and I never cleared anyone's name.

I made you come with me and give everything up for nothing, Church.

...Yeah, that bit was all you.

It's like 90% your fault that I can't leave here unless I go to some bizarro alternate universe, because I'm dead as dicks. I hate this stupid place, but I can't go home. I died because of you, and I did it for nothing. Except letting Epsilon live. I guess that's something, huh?

I guess it's gotta be good enough.

The other 10% is on me. I came along. I could've kept telling you to fuck off. And then when I came for the ride, it's like we both mutually agreed on this self-assured destruction thing. I guess...I guess I felt just guilty enough for everything that happened for me, to me, by me, because of me.

...Look, of course I'm pissed about it. I might always be pissed about it. But I don't hate you, for whatever it's worth. I did, at first. But it's not that simple.

[Well, that's something.]

[Some part of Wash's expression, the tired slump of his shoulders, communicates something to the effect of yeah, thought so. But then Church keeps going, and...well, not hating someone is a pretty basic thing. But considering how little he thinks he deserves it...]

You don't hate me, huh?

[He coughs slightly at the tickle of buds in his airways, has to clear his throat.]

I guess I'll take it. You'd be completely within your rights to, though.

It's complicated, okay? I blame you, I blame myself, and it's...it's weird.

...Part of what made the Director so tempting and so fucking scary was the promise of making me whole again. I was...when I was in the Meta. In. In his head. And everyone else was there, except Epsilon. It was...

I guess it was the closest I've ever been to being whole. And before that...I didn't...know that I wasn't.

So I got to meet them, and I don't know if it's a blessing or a curse.

It's the nature of...those kinds of injuries to not have insight into themselves. That kind of damage doesn't really hurt until you're aware that it exists.

[Well, he can't blame Church for that there. There's plenty of blame to go around for all of that, and no small part of that has been directed into Wash's own psyche the longer he's sat and stewed in it.]

The important part is that you didn't listen. Even knowing what you lost.

If it was someone else, maybe I'd do it. I don't know. Like. If you said it was possible. I dunno, would you even want that? Put all the pieces together to make a whole-ass person?

I don't think that's my call to make. And - look, you're your own person, now. You're not just the parts that were taken away from you.

[Similarly to Epsilon, he'd think, though that's not a comparison he wants to draw aloud. Like it or not, they've both formed their own personalities, removed from the trauma that was done to them.]

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January Undercurrent: Growing Pains

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