March Undercurrent: Lost Connections

[lifeaftr_mods]

MARCH UNDERCURRENT

Who: Everyone!
What: We remember those lost, and connect with one another
When: March 3rd to March 19th
Where: Everywhere!
Warnings: Please mark anything as it comes up!

From Stardust to God

Those months since the Water's introduction to you all have been...tumultuous, haven't they? These two gods have more or less been trying to consistently undermine each other, and you all have been caught in the middle of it - whether or not you wanted to be! Kind of a miserable state of being to be stuck in, right?

All that is going to change.

For the duration of this particular month, both the Storyteller and the Water will be operating under a tentative ceasefire as they commit their efforts to one singular, joint goal:

They wish to remember those who have been lost. Those who have left the archipelago, those who have died, those who have come and gone, those who you lost in your homes...and these gods will be, also, commemorating those who they have lost. This commemoration will be facilitated with the use of memorials and offerings to those long past.

The Storyteller will provide you with materials to craft paper lanterns that can be illuminated and sent sailing into the ocean waters. They can be decorated with colorful paper, cut designs, and so forth. The Water will guide the currents to allow the lanterns to drift to...wherever it is they need to go. You can send as many lanterns as you like, and as many nights as you like. The skies will always be clear, and the water will always guide them to the horizon, where they eventually fade from view...

Both the Storyteller and the Water will be available for discussion for the duration of this event.

The Highs We Trade for the Lows

This month isn't only about remembering what's been past. To conjure Ai'tuoh back to the archipelago, it will also entail that all of you do some reflecting on what has been lost in your lives, and sharing in that pain together. This may be a somber month for some of you, or it may be an introspective one.

At any point during this event, your character may wake to discover that one or more thin threads of colorful light appears to be emanating from their chest and trailing through the empty air. These threads cannot be removed or influenced in any fashion; attempting to grab at them will simply cause one's hands to phase uselessly through them, as though they are ethereal constructs of some sort.

The purpose of these strands of light might not immediately be apparent, but if you spend enough time observing your fellow islanders, it might get a bit clearer. Each tether connects you to someone else - someone who has a pain similar to your own. Should you follow your tether to whoever it has linked you to, you may find yourself compelled to comfort or relate to the other party. This compulsion can honestly vary, from a gentle nudge to a sudden impulse and anything in between. There may or may not be a subtle pressure on your thoughts that may help you discern what you might have in common with this other person, whoever they might be. This facet of this event is completely opt-in, naturally, and we encourage you to interpret this however you like. What counts as shared pain? It can be as literal or as figurative as you like. Whether characters underwent the same events in this game or another, or whether there are certain parallels you wish to explore within certain canons or across multiple ones...or if you just want your character to have a nice sit down and talk about their problems for once, the choice is yours. Your character can be connected to as many others as you like - there is no limit to how many characters you can share any related trauma with!

Should you choose to reflect on that which you have endured, and the shared pain of others, what follows is fairly intuitive. The tether binding you together will fade, though hopefully a stronger bond will be forged, and ideally you'll all feel better afterward...but that's not necessarily a given, now, is it?

This is No Place Like Home

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!

March Timeline

[ ♆ ] March 1st: "The Return of Your Special Lifting Friend" begins and lasts until March 10th
[ ♆ ] March 3rd: "Lost Connections" begins and lasts until March 19th
[ ♆ ] March 12th: "Spring Forth" begins and lasts until March 21st
[ ♆ ] March 20th: Ai'tuoh returns to the archipelago
[ ♆ ] March 22nd: "The Happy Hang Glider Vacation Society" begins and lasts until March 31st

LOGS ● OOC ● STORIES ● MAIN NAVIGATION

( CODED BY BOOTYCALL )

Comments

[salutosinedelectat]

Well, taking in consideration how rain has had it's own, albeit not inherently negative effects, he thinks he's justified to worry. And, oh, all the plants that have entirely changed people's psyche. Oh and the islands that shift along with whoever is threading them. And...

He watches Crowley, and suddenly the demon yells and fails and sinks, and the angel immediately panics. He francticly rushes to where Crowley disappeared, trying to desperately see through the water and bubbles.

"Crowley?! Crowley!"

[agathokakological]

Crowley springs up quick, cackling heartily, at least until he sees the look on Aziraphale's face. A look that physically pains him with guilt. 

"Angel! Shit. No-- I'm okay. Sorry, sorry, just messing around-- I didn't mean to--" his stammering cuts off as his arms shoot around Aziraphale, burying his very wet face in his shoulder and mumbling into it. 

"I won't do it again. I shouldn't have..." he continues, voice muffled by Aziraphale's closeness. 

[salutosinedelectat]

When Crowley springs up, the angel goes from panicking, to confused and startled, but it’s traded quickly for a rather irritated look instead, even as he’s held. He may also be rather embarrassed, which really doesn’t help.

“That wasn’t funny, Crowley.” By the sound of his tone, he might have legitimately walked out of the spring if he hadn’t been held in place. “If you think this is all a joke-“

[agathokakological]

"'Course not." he huffs, pulling back to look him in the eye. "Really, I'm sorry, angel. Won't happen again, promise." 

Crowley give his best puppy eyes as he sinks back down into the water, settling on his knees. His arms trail down Aziraphale's until their hands meet, and he tugs gently at them. 

"Just try to relax with me for a bit, yeah? Stretch your wings out."

[salutosinedelectat]

Aziraphale watches the demon sternly, and he’s not pouting. Clearly. That would be silly.

(He is, a little.)

But, after a couple of seconds, he sighs, gently holding onto Crowley’s hands and sinking into the water to meet him. “My wings? Why?”

[agathokakological]

He can't help but feel guilty. Look at that pout. That pout does things to him.

In an attempt to better apologize he shrugs, his hands letting go if Aziraphale's in favor of his shoulders. "Just a saying, really. Probably. But if you want, I'll give yours a grooming. Could probably use it after all of this." 

Crowley rubs gently at Aziraphale's shoulders, smile soft, in attempt to coax him.

[salutosinedelectat]

Using those eyes and that smile and that smooth talking to get out of trouble is probably cheating. And while the angel is still a bit pouty...it might be working.

He takes a moment to look around. It's nice, this place. He's still not sure it won't somehow be a cause of danger or possible death, but, right now, it's just...nice.

"Well..." He idly reaches a hand over to rest on one of Crowley's arms. Funny how his wings have suddenly been a relevant thing after, say, five and a half millennia, give or take, "But they'll get soaked."

[agathokakological]

"Hot enough in here to dry them off quick," he notes. "But you don't have to, angel." 

Crowley moves around him, finding a spot next to a warm jet to sit and relax, his arms stretching out behind him on the earth where it made a perfect ledge. He stretches his legs out, enjoying the way the water warms his muscles, dulling any aches he's accumulated since their time there began. Crowley wasn't much used to having aches and pains, although he remembered how, even when he didn't have them, the warmth of a hot spring made him melt in comfort. 

"Seven hells, that feels good." he groans "Why couldn't this be here before?"

[salutosinedelectat]

Aziraphale watches the jets of colorful water shoot up in certain spots, a colorful geiser awakening nearby. All magic, he suspects - that or that color changing water from one of the floating islands - and it seems far too unnatural to just appear on its own. Whatever that might mean in a place like this.

He moves over to the demon, settling down next to him, hands on his lap. He's still surveying the area, but gradually warming up (pun intended) to the whole thing.

"Seems rather deliberate, really." There's things floating on the water, among the bubbles. What is that?

[agathokakological]

He adjusts slightly as Aziraphale settles in beside him, his outstretched arm on the ledge shifting back so that the angel could fit within it. His neck cranes side to side as he attempts to crack it before settling back.

"Yes, well--" he groans, "Even more of a reason to enjoy it while it lasts."

His other arm drops off of the ledge and he uses his hand to run through his hair. He's certain it's a mess from the flailing before, so he combs it back with his fingers before resting his arm back down.

[salutosinedelectat]

He shifts closer to the demon, taking a slow, deep breath and letting himself start to relax.

"It is one of the best things we've seen around here." If it turns out to have no random effects on them. He supposes they'll have to see.

He turns his head, setting something float near him, covered in bubbles. He tilts his head, unable to really make out what it is, so he reaches out to grab it, cleaning the bubbles off.

It's... a yellow wooden duck.

He holds it up to Crowley, unable to help a small amused smile. "Well. There's some attention to detail."

[agathokakological]

Crowley's head tilts up as Aziraphale shows him the toy and he cackles lightly at the sight of it. 

"You've got your duck after all." he teased, thinking of Aziraphale's tale of his bath in hell and his simple requests. The thought of that still made him laugh, months later.

[salutosinedelectat]

Okay, that coaxes a chuckle out of him. Oh, he remembers the scene so vividly still, the scared demons, the confused Lords, Michael looking entirely flabbergasted. He felt truly untouchable then.

"Better late than never." Looking a lot more cheerful all of a sudden. He gingerly sets the duck up straight on the surface of the water, just letting it float near them.

[agathokakological]

Crowley takes a deep breath, unsure if the warmth in his chest that he's feeling is the work if the hot springs or Aziraphale's smile lines. The demon's arm behind him inches forward until it's gripping him and tugging him close. 

"If I didn't know any better," he mused, "I'd saw you were having a good time." 

He'd hoped, anyway. It's why Crowley dragged the angel here. Aziraphale himself had been through it, the illnesses,  the stress. Not that Crowley himself had skated by easily, but he was a bit used to higher stakes. He'd started to worry about his friend.

[salutosinedelectat]

Aziraphale lets himself be pulled close, leaning against the demon. He is getting closer to something that might be called relaxed, which is a rather welcomed feeling. Can't say it's that common nowadays.

"Maybe." He jokes, taking a long sigh through his nose. He brings a hand up over Crowley's, on his shoulder. "It is rather lovely here." Company included.

[agathokakological]

"Say what you will about this place," Crowley muses, leaning in until his head is resting comfortably against Aziraphale's, the fluffy white curls of hair tickling his face, "But it's brought us together, closer together, so I can't despise it entirely."

Not as much as he'd like to, anyway. 

Crowley takes another deep breath there, his mind trying to comprehend how Aziraphale still manages to smell so good when they're roughing it on a dangerous island, but figuring it's not very important. He smiles there, content to merely relax beside him in the warm water.

[salutosinedelectat]

"Well, would rather have it happen somewhere a bit less deadly, but...I do suppose you have a point." He likes to believe it wouldn't take them nearly dying a couple of times to get there, but it's not like he knows much. But the near Armaggedon had been enough of a shake up; this was just overkill.

He gently fusses with Crowley's fingers, watching the colorful jets of water launch into the air nearby.

" ...I do wonder if we'll be able to go back." He says after a bit, mind clearly wandering to the more obvious subjects.

[agathokakological]

Crowley nuzzles a bit against those curls, enjoying the way they lick at his face. Aziraphale's hair is getting long, or well, longer than he's used to seeing it on him, and it just makes him look softer than ever. Crowley's fingers spread so that Aziraphale's can lock into his if he chooses, but as the angel's talking continues, a frown creeps onto his face.

"Oh right, yes, right after we un-make the world. No issues there, let me just use all the cosmic powers this place has abruptly taken from me."

[salutosinedelectat]

Aziraphale takes the cue, locking their fingers. It at serves to keep his hands still.

Though, at Crowley's answer, he just sighs. "Here I thought we were done with all this world ending business."

[agathokakological]

"Ah, not quite." he replies, thumb stroking over the angel's fingers. "At least not until we find our way back."

Crowley watches bubbles rise and pop in the air, and with a sigh, attempts to put a positive spin in it. "What would you want to do... you know, once we're home?"

[salutosinedelectat]

A positive spin. He used to be good at those. Or he thought he was, anyway.

He watches the wooden duck disappear into another patch of mysterious bubbles. He takes a deep breath, calmly sighing out his nose. "Check on the shop, I suppose. See if everything's in place." Should be, by what's been explained to them. "Then I'd retrieve the bottle of Chatêau Margaux and not leave my sofa until it was gone."

He pauses. "I would share, if you'd like."

[agathokakological]

"Mm. Yeah-- put a record on and spend the whole night there- order in a meal, something with loads of bread and meat. Red meat. I'm over fish for a while..." he continues the angel's thought, finding himself smiling as he does so. "Oh, and love a good nap after a meal. What do you think? In a real bed?"

[salutosinedelectat]

Aziraphale smiles too, happy to imagine the two of them, in the shop, with music, a bottle (or a few) of wine, and a proper meal. Something as simple, something they’ve done do many times before, suddenly feels like heaven. Proper heaven.

“Oh, that does sound lovely.” He closes his eyes for a moment. “Maybe for a day or two.“

[agathokakological]

"Oh, so you like sleep now?" he teases, the arm around Aziraphale squeezing for emphasis. The island has practically forced the angel to like sleep, which Crowley can't complain about, considering how easy he finds Aziraphale is to share a bed with.

"Never thought I'd see the day."

[salutosinedelectat]

Forced him to sleep? Absolutely. Forced him to like it? Not necessarily, with all the lacking amenities. But it was all made a lot better by who he shares his bed with.

Aziraphale chuckles, patting Crowley's hand. "I don't believe I was given a choice."