lifeaftr | February Undercurrent: Behind the Curtain

February Undercurrent: Behind the Curtain

FEBRUARY UNDERCURRENT

Who: Everyone!
What: A sea of clouds in the moonlight...
When: February 3rd to February 15th
Where: The Floating Islands above Ensō
Warnings: Please mark anything as it comes up!

The Earth is Spinning

Far above all your heads, suspended impossibly over Ensō, there is a scattered collection of strange floating islands. Almost two years ago, adventurers had the opportunity to visit them when the heat of the phoenix-sun of LifeAftr burned away the clouds that shielded them. This time, it will be Water that gusts those clouds to the side - clouds are, after all, a form of water. Once more, these islands will become accessible. Just like before, all islands are accessible via mana pool - but those of you capable of flight will be able to reach them without needing those helping hands.

Additionally, the islands will be hanging very low over Ensō, casting noticeable shadows over much of the landmass, and parts of them will be trailing to the ground. Ladders, long tresses of ivy and vines, and ropes hang off the edges of these islands to brush against Ensō's floor, to make for easy climbing. You might also find that some of these trailing protrusions might take a more...active approach. If someone walks by, you might very well find yourself grabbed by these vines or ladders and more or less hoisted up to the floating islands, whether that was your intention or not. It's almost like they want you up there, for whatever reason.

This time, these islands will not be subject to the whims and desires of the islanders. The landscape will not shift to accommodate your memories and thoughts. This time, when travelers reach the islands, they will find that they have formed into four distinct locations. Each of the four islands are separate and more or less their own small patch of land, visible but quite isolated from all the rest.

Just like before, the mana pools will be more than slightly glitchy for the duration of this event - it is entirely possible that someone simply attempting to travel by them, or stay near them to rejuvenate their energies will find themselves whisked up into the landmasses hovering in the sky. It seems that these islands have an inherent effect on the mana pool network.

The Water will communicate to all adventurers in whatever way possible that they are strongly advised to visit the islands above, if they seek answers. Those who pass near bodies of water on any island will likely hear the Water's quiet urging to do just that. Though even if they don't listen, there's every chance that they might end up there anyway!

So what are the islands up here like, this go around? Funny you should ask...

The Island of Stone This first island is the biggest of the five, and also the most central. It is the one you are most likely to end up upon if you travel here by accident. Much of it is comprised of a terrain of earth and stone. The upper clouds frequently gust through the area, lending it a strange and otherworldly look.

Immediately behind the mana pool, travelers will see a large carving mounted on a stone dais. It appears to be in the shape of a bear, carved from oak wood. Its eyes are set with a pair of emeralds. Below it is written a name: ZEMJIN.

On this island, travelers will find what essentially amounts of a great deal of building blocks. Almost all of them are different types of earth and rock - from sandstone to fired clay to granite to obsidian to even some of your less common materials, such as iron or titanium or gold - and a great variety of sizes and shapes.

Each of these blocks defy ordinary size and weight restraints; as long as they remain on the island, virtually anyone can pick them up and move them around as you please, regardless of how much you should be capable of lifting. You can build tall structures of diamond or small huts from marble - the only limit is your imagination!

Well, that and reason. If any of your building materials fall off the island, they'll almost immediately dissipate into nothingness. However, there's nothing stopping you from building a bridge to another island...and that'd work, too.

The Island of Color This island is one of the most striking, as once one sets foot on it, they will note that it's almost entirely devoid of color. At least, all the solid parts of it are. The island hosts broad boulders, grassy meadows, beautiful trees...but they're all in shades of gray and white, save for the spot just behind the mana pool.

There, travelers will see a small statue mounted on a stone dais. It appears to be in the shape of a seal, a delicate shape made from expertly carved and polished sunstone. All around it, bright golden marigold flowers are in full bloom. Below it is written a name: JARUSKA.

Further inspection reveals that the island isn't entirely colorless. In fact, all over the island, one can find deep wells that look as though they might contain water. Instead, they contain color, in every shade imaginable. One simply has to lower the bucket into the well, concentrating on the color they'd like to see, and when hoisting it up, they'll find it filled to the brim with it. The wells are lined with buckets and primitive, oddly skeletal tools with which one can use to decorate this island to their heart's desire.

Fill in the empty outlines! Use inks and powders to breathe new life into this monochrome land! The entire space is your blank canvas, and you don't even have to indulge in conventionality - you can very well make the grass pink and the trees blue if you like.

The only real drawback is the capacity of these colors to stain. They're rather inconveniently bright and tend to glow, and only sustained scrubbing will remove them. The color tends to bleed into whatever you touch, if you don't do a thorough enough job of washing all that away, even if you depart this place.

What's more? You can use these colors to paint new structures into place. You can paint new trees, new flowers, new anything of any color you like. Such as, say...a bridge to another island.

The Island of Stars This island is among the most striking, and will probably be quite visible from a distance. Once one sets foot upon it, it'll be obvious why: the landscape here looks like an inverted night sky. The ground is a deep, swirled pool of blues and purples and blacks, stippled with bright pinpricks. It looks very much like you're standing on the night sky itself.

Immediately behind the mana pool, travelers will see a small statue mounted on a stone dais. It is in the shape of a turtle, an artfully crafted likeness made from the deep indigo blue of polished iolite. Thready blooms of red-and-green tillandsia sprout about it in colorful abandon. Below it is written a name: TSAMAYAR.

All around this island, twisting pathways, roads, and tunnels unravel in and around the starry landscape. Some are simplistic, and look like they are made of ordinary (if strangely celestial) gravel. Others are made of dark, paved stone. Still others look a little like they're cobbled with fancier materials, such as polished obsidian or marble.

And all over, you'll be able to find a vast collection of rather primitive but nonetheless fully functional bicycles, scooters, skateboards, and other forms of self-powered travel. And unlike any of the other islands, if you manage to get these vehicles off the island somehow, and back to Ensō fully intact? You can keep them.

It's no Rainbow Road, but it can make for a beautiful place to ride a bike, take a load off, and simply take in the sights. And, at some point, you might realize that you recognize some of the stars set into the ground. Maybe some of them are constellations you know. And what could that mean, exactly...?

The Island of Webs The final island is the most mysterious, and potentially the most off-putting. It's thick with mist and fog, and almost everything is dead and black, as though all of its color has been sapped away. Only this place doesn't have any colorful pools of ink and dyes to bring luster and life back to its scenery; it is simply bereft.

Immediately behind the mana pool, travelers will see a small statue mounted on a stone dais. It appears to be in the delicate likeness of a spider that has been carved from the rainbow blue-greens of labradorite. All around the statue, heavy twines of ivy have climbed up along the dais and threaded around the spider's legs. Below it is written a name: OSORU.

The most obvious and probably unnerving aspect of this island are the thick webs that hang from almost every surface. Almost everything is draped in limp, dead trailings of a whitish material that seems almost silklike. It isn't sticky; travelers can touch and handle it easily, to no ill effect. More unsettling is likely to be the buildings that can be found on this place - for they are all almost certainly ones that many of you will recognize.

The Storyteller's Temple. Chunks of the city of Ai'tuoh. A windmill from Nuidan. Parts of the sunken city of Tempide, and so many others. All structures that were found in LifeAftr in varying stages of ruin - now in pristine condition. They look as neat and tidy as if they were just constructed, though all are empty.

Perhaps even worse is the fact that those weblike strands seem to have a life of their own. As the days progress, they start to slither toward the island's very edge, straining to try and reach the other islands. You can help them, if you wish, by building or painting bridges between those islands and this one. Because, as it happens, this appears to be what this place wants more than anything - to draw all these separate pieces together, into one cohesive whole.

If you wish to fully uncover the secrets of this island, please let us know if you are interested in NPC interaction in the subject line of your top-level.

Your Eyes are Shining in the Glittering Light

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 February'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 Monthly Rundown post!

February Timeline

[ ♆ ] February 1st: "Free Real Estate" begins and lasts until February 5th
[ ♆ ] February 3rd: "Behind the Curtain" begins and lasts until February 15th
[ ♆ ] February 6th: "No Yan is an Island" begins and lasts until February 12th
[ ♆ ] February 13th: "A Rainbow, Not a Painbow" begins and lasts until February 29th
[ ♆ ] February 16th: "The Sound Resounds" begins and lasts until February 27th

LOGS ● OOC ● STORIES ● MAIN NAVIGATION

( CODED BY BOOTYCALL )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Crowley chuckles softly, watching Aziraphale's expression change. "Good, I don't have the same ability to pop in as and save the day that I used to."

But that's besides the point. "Right, well, seems like the safest bet for meat around here. I made some tools for it but... well, just wondering if you have experience."

Does Aziraphale have any experience in gathering any kind of resources, specially the living kind? Granted they’ve been on earth since the beginning, but he’s really only used to partaking in food others prepare, or...miracling it into existence.

“Er, no, unfortunately not.” A beat. “Do you?”

Edited (Fucking iPad ) 2020-02-17 17:51 (UTC)

Aziraphale gets a scoff in return. Not in any offended sort of way, but it's humorous to anyone that Crowley would have ever done anything he didn't have to. "No," he replies, "Do I look like the fishing type?" he asks, amusedly.

The whistling of the kettle saves him from continuing that conversation any further, and Crowley hops up at the sound.

"I've got it."

Aziraphale begins to stand, but ends up settling back down, watching the demon go about. This is nice. This is still nice, despite all of the context around it. He could do with more days like this.

“It’s strange, isn’t it?” He speaks up after a moment of silence. “Having to do this sort of thing. Have to admit I’m not quite used to it all yet.”

Crowley uses the blanket wrapped around him to act as a heat-barrier for the kettle, which is no doubt scalding hot. He sets it aside, moving the cups closer and then grabs it again, quickly filling them with tea before the heat seeps through the blanket and burns his flesh.

"Strange, sure." he agrees, quickly setting the kettle aside. "I have a newfound respect for humanity."

Crowley scoops up the cups and brings them back to where Aziraphale was sitting. He hands one to the angel before taking a seat closely beside him. "I do miss technology. Big time."

He takes the tea, muttering a quiet "Thank you.", holding the nice cup of tea in his hands. He looks at the demon, sitting right beside him, and things get even nicer.

"I miss my books. And my records." Some bittersweet reminiscing, but he still holds out hope of going back there. Home, he can call it that.

"Music. Yeah, I miss music." Crowley would toast to that, but it's much more comfortable to sit wrapped in his blanket, the little cup warming his hands. He blows gently on it before bringing it to his lips and taking a sip.

"Mm, funny, all the times humans have played that deserted island game with me they've listed some form of music. Not one considering how they'd listen to it. No phonograph. No radio. No electricity. What did we even do before all of that was invented?"

Aziraphale listens, gently blowing the steam off his tea and taking a sip of his own. They were lucky there are enough tea leaves around. He's really not used to have to be counting resources either, and it sure helps him appreciate what they did have.

He looks a bit confused. "Deserted island game? What do you mean?"

"Ah- you know," Crowley waves his hand slightly, "What three things would you take with you to a deserted island? That old game."

He sips again at his tea, then looks over at Aziraphale, an eyebrow quirked. "Well, what would you bring, angel?"

He hums quietly, giving it some thought. He supposes they can take some reference from their own experience...although the islands were definitely less than deserted when they first arrived. Thank goodness for that, he dreads to think of what they would have done then.

"I'm guessing music is out." Aziraphale keeps his eyes on his tea as he tries to come up with an answer. "Well...I suppose, if I had to choose, I'd have to say...an interesting book. A change of clothes. And, hum..."

He glances over at Crowley. Company, is what he feels the urge to say, but that would be a bit selfish, wouldn't it? To sell someone else to that fate. But he may just still be thinking of the now. Of the here, on the less than deserted islands.

Of the person who's always been there in the first place.

Crowley shrugged, "It doesn't have to be. This is a theoretical island we're talking..." he starts, but trails off curiously. There was a look in the angel's eye that he wanted to chase, something that resonated with him and he just wished there was a better word for. There was a word, but Crowley couldn't be assed to admit it. To recognize it would be too vulnerable, and Crowley shielded many things about himself for a reason, he couldn't stand his own vulnerability.

"And?" he asked, watching as closely as ever. "Don't think too hard on it- could be anything, whatever comes to mind."

He's now noticing how close they are. Had they been sitting that close? He honestly can't remember, he hadn't been paying attention to much beyond the conversation and attempts at keeping warm. He also notices how, in the darkness of the gloomy skies and the setting dusk outside, the fire reflects so brightly against Crowley's skies, specially those bright yellow eyes.

And he notices how quiet it's gotten again, with the exception of the crackling fire, and the pouring rain.

"Well...it would rather boring, all on my own." Something in his tone suggests that he tried to make that sound casual, or thought to, but it comes out too soft and quiet, much like the way his look lingers on the demon, longer and closer than before.

Crowley thinks his heart should be beating straight out of his chest by now, but it's staying relatively calm. Very unlike him, he thinks, all things considered. He places his cup on the ground before him, then looks up again at Aziraphale, meeting the angel's eyes.

"You must know that I would trade all of the pleasures of the world to stay in your company." he replies, his own voice soft. Aziraphale must know, Crowley had been willing to do it before when they were sure the world would end. He had practically begged. If he didn't, well, he would now, and that was important to Crowley. As if Crowley staying by his side, choosing to share this cottage, and ensuring the angel's survival wasn't hint enough.

Edited (html fail) 2020-02-18 01:14 (UTC)

"...I know." comes out as barely a whisper.

He does know. In different ways, in different points in time, he has been faced with that concept. Long before he understood how broad it really was, before they had been faced with the world's end, and even after that. Crowley has never once truly failed him, no matter how many times Aziraphale did. No matter what, he was there by his side, one way or the other, even after being pushed away.

His heart isn't racing as fast as he thinks it should be. He doesn't feel himself stop completely, and he doesn't feel the urge to run. Quite the contrary, there is no where else he rather be than right here, right now.

Before he knows it, he's leaned in, gentle and careful and giving them both more than enough time to pull away. He glances at Crowley's lips for another very silent moment, before he leans the rest of the way to press his against them.

All it took was a little magic rain.

Aziraphale leans in, and Crowley feels his heart rate kick up just enough. He meets the angel halfway, a hand racing to his cheek where it cups gently at his jaw. Crowley presses his lips to Aziraphale's and his hand slides back into his hairline. This was it; nowhere to run off to, nothing left to hide, the two of them expressing millennia of pent-up feelings in a simple human act of affection.

Crowley felt relief wash over him as it's own form of calming rain. Of all the times he'd tried to tempt the angel to their own side, plant seeds of ideas and nurse them until they grew large enough for the angel to be accepting of them, the times Aziraphale had said no, had walked away, and yet it was Aziraphale who made the move this time. Crowley might have given it a shot if he hadn't, but would have been heartbroken had he pushed him away. Relief is all he could feel, because the angel wasn't running anymore.

It’s a little bit funny, how after everything, it’s a quiet, peaceful is when it happens. They’d been allowing each other to silently delve in gentle expressions of affection, keeping them mostly wordless and mostly vague, but this isn’t really one that leaves a lot to interpretation. Not that any of them had been. But they were working up to it.

He doesn’t really know what was it about that specific moment that caused him to finally step forward. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was a whole order of things. What he doesn’t know is that the actual help was a way to keep himself to out of his own way, but, even then, the extensiveness of that aid is debatable.

After a few moments, he pulls back ever so gently, barely moving back. With his breath almost knocked out of him, he doesn't say anything right away, but, when he does, it’s so very soft, so quiet.

“I...hum. I hope that’s alright.”

Aziraphale pulls back, but Crowley lingers, his hand still touching at the side of his face, his forehead touching Aziraphale's. His eyes open lightly, half-lidded but expanded just enough to give away his own emotional state. They scan over Aziraphale's face, and all he knows is he wants to do that again. Over and over again.

But the angel's words make him laugh. It starts small, a soft chuckle, and Crowley tries to suppress it, his shoulders shaking as he does. "Angel--" he says, almost scolding. "Yes, it's very alright."

The angel feels himself blush, but he can’t help but to look amused too, a mix of embarrassment and relief and giddiness all the same, just happy to be in the moment. It’s...freeing, being here. Getting here. He’d held so much back he can’t even tell if he wanted this before or since when, but he’s sure happy it happened.

He brings his own hand up to gingerly touch over Crowley’s cheek and jaw. There’s so many things he thinks he could say here, should say, but he still just smiles, unsure of where to start, if at all. He’s clearly not as good with words as he once thought.

“Doesn’t look like the rain is going to stop anytime soon.” Which isn’t really meant as suggestive, just words to fill the silence - just barely.

Aziraphale's hand makes this all the more sweet. He leans into it just barely, enough to show the angel he enjoys his touch, craves it.

"Oh? What a shame." he replies, with all the sarcasm in the world. "I'd hate to have to spend the entire evening here with you."

His expression says otherwise, pure bliss, but Aziraphale can't really blame the demon's unabashed urge to quip and tease every chance he got.

He really can't. He's tried, on the occasions where he catches it (less than there should be), but not in a situation like this. Sometimes the teasing is welcomed.

"Well..." He brushes a thumb over Crowley's cheek, smile bright and fond. "I suppose we all have to make sacrifices."

Crowley lets another brief chuckle escape his lips, his hand sliding up and carding into the angel's hair a bit. Everything about him is so soft, it's almost overwhelming. Crowley doesn't want to pull away, he wants to stay close, feel safe.

"Ah, but we've made so many sacrifices already." he teases, scooting closer so that he can rest against him. His head rests on Aziraphale's shoulder, staring off into the fire.

It melts his heart, little gestures like these, specially without the natural tension to combat it. Things that seemed to be impossible, options that weren't even on the table a while back, keep on happening, and if most of them were like this...well, it'd be grand.

Carefully, hesitant at first, he reaches an arm around Crowley's middle to hold him, and rests his head against the demon's. His eyes turn toward the fire as well, and he lets out a calm, comfortable sigh.

"One more won't hurt."

He sighs, pulling the blanket off of one shoulder to drape across them both, still resting gently against him. "Yeah, guess not." he sighs, feeling content in the angel's arms for the evening. He'd long forgotten his tea, which was still sitting about a foot to the side. Little was on his mind other than Aziraphale, and how lucky he felt to share his affections.

Turning his head to the blanket offered over his shoulder, Aziraphale puts his tea aside, forgetting something about not wasting resources, and paying much more attention to the matter at hand. Which is to pull that blanket over and make sure they're both covered and warm and snug in front of the warm fire. Holding it closed, he wraps his other arm around Crowley's middle under the blanket instead.

This feels...perfect, quite honestly. No matter where they are and the things that have happened so far, in this moment they're all but a distant memory, outside of this hut. All that matters is right here and right now. There is a feeling in his chest and words in his mind that still feel unprepared to pour out, but this will most definitely do.

"If only they were all like this."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

February Undercurrent: Behind the Curtain

LET THEM.

I AM BUT THEY'RE TERRIBLE

THEY'RE WONDERFUL.

I have to say that the mental image of crowley trying to go spear fishing is glorious

thats what im SAYIN

a good husband, a provider

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Can't just hit an angel with words of undying devotion like that

done DID IT.

👏👏👏👏

a round of applause for these idiots

Happening so close to valentine’s, too

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