lifeaftr | New Island: Elytlan

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New Island: Elytlan

NEW ISLAND: ELYTLAN

Who: Everyone!
What: Elytlan arrives to the archipelago of LifeAftr
When: April 20th, and onward
Where: The new island of Elytlan
Warnings: Please mark if anything comes up!

It All Makes Perfect Sense To Me

[ click here to enlarge ]
The island of Elytlan is one that none of you have yet encountered, and it's a striking sight; it's a land of seemingly endless plains of gray earth and meadows of glowing white flowers. Ruins and strange shapes mark the land as if they'd crashed to earth there, forming dark and wavering shapes in the fog that seems to suffuse this entire island, making visibility dubious even at the best of times.

There is an avatar altar in the ruins near the site of the island's mana pool, but it is an exception to most of the others that came before it in that it appears to be completely deserted. No avatar will materialize to greet you. Not at first, at least. If you stick around for long enough, you might find yourself approached eventually.

Despite the bleak, ruined look of this place, it doesn't feel hostile, unlike other islands you might have experienced. No monsters come crawling out of the fog to chase you, no mental effect encroaches on your mind or sense of self; this is a place of peace.

Even if it does seem rather eerie.

While no monsters seem to exist here, no wildlife seem to exist here either; the only sign of movement beside yourselves are bright, bird-like silhouettes in the grey sky, wheeling endlessly, crying with distant voices. Since they never seem to land, it's impossible to tell if they truly are birds.

And it's impossible to ignore that Elytlan looks and feels faded, the way other islands do not, almost Mu-like in that it is a place where time seems to stand still. Though the sun still gleams through the fog, casting a hazy light, it never moves; only when you return to Ensō will you be able to track the time that has passed. Any timekeeping devices simply stand still for the duration of your visits to Elytlan - not broken, as all attempts to 'repair' such devices will prove only that they're working correctly, but simply sleeping, and unable to be woken.

And there are yet more oddities to be discovered, the longer you explore.

Oh Roses, They Don't Mean A Thing
If you've ever died - on Ensō, or elsewhere in your adventures on this world's various islands, or even back in your own worlds - you're likely to find yourself in these endless meadows. Or, at least, a shadow of you, sporting the very same injuries you did when you died. And for every death, you've cast a shadow - so the more times you've died, the more of them you'll see. Many of these shades will reflect the moment of death, whether in the abstract or in the immediate. Someone who once died via stabbing, for example, might find a shade of themself hobbling around with a sword stuck through their middle, or they might find them walking about easily with a smooth, round gap in their midsection. The shades of these deaths can be as grotesque or as simplistic as you like, and their state may honestly vary.

These shades aren't hostile. In fact, they're downright friendly, especially to those they were born from, and will happily make for easy conversation, but it can still make for a potentially startling sight. They don't seem all the way there, for one, and perhaps unsurprisingly. In the fog, it's easy to mistake a person's shadow for the person themselves; you aren't the only one who can see your own death, after all. Everyone can.

But unlike a real shadow, these shadows, both of yourself and of others, won't stay by your side for long. In fact, they seem to get impatient staying in one spot, and would much rather play, or run...or lead you elsewhere.

When All I Feel is an Aimless Direction
Should you follow these shades to their apparent destinations, you'll find broken shrines and equally shattered idols made of some ethereal stone. They flicker with the slightest hints of inner light.

These stone statues disrupt the island's near-monochromatic, foggy nature; characters who approach these idols will find themselves in projected, frozen scenes that seem to correspond with the domain of each one. And for many, especially those who have been on Ensō for long enough to see several islands come and go, some of these idols will have familiar domains - ones that correspond to islands both near and far.

[ ♆ ] Idol Fountain: This idol is partially concealed, and mostly eroded, under the constant, silent stream of bright water, pouring into a still, cold lake that emits mist. Gray butterflies flit among bright white clusters of larkspur, tinted faintly pink. Drinking from the lake's water or standing in the mist that steams off its surface will make you feel calmer and steadier in your purpose - whatever that purpose is. Whatever decision you make, for a time, will be something you are at peace with no matter the outcome.

[ ♆ ] Idol Tree: This idol seems to be as much plant as it is stone. Inescapably entwined with vines and seeming to grow out of the rocky bark of a towering tree, there can be seen only the barest hints of face and feature among the overgrowth. Small, white birds perch in the tree's branches, soundlessly twittering and hopping in a strange imitation of reality. A field of sweet pea flowers waves, gently, in a wind you can't feel. Inhaling the scent of these flowers or picking them will make you feel relaxed and happy.

[ ♆ ] Idol Flute: An idol made out of iron, beaten and shaped by careful hands long past, rears its head among the clustering trees of a chestnut forest, their boughs hanging heavy with bright white chestnuts. Though it's clearly fallen to disrepair and neglect, there's still a pride in the way it was posed and the way it holds itself. As wind you can feel blows through the area periodically, it whistles through the idol's broken parts, producing haunting calls similar to those of birds. Those who hear such calls, or eat from the chestnut trees, will feel that any previous feelings - sadness, irritation, even happiness - simply cease to bother them, so that they can reflect on what caused such feelings with a clear head...or maybe simply an impassive one.

[ ♆ ] The Altar: Unlike every other island you've visited thus far, Elytlan is the first one that appears to have two avatar altars. The first is near the site of the island's mana pool. The second is situated much farther away, marked on the map above, and is little more than a simple slab of dark, smooth stone. It doesn't appear to be a natural rock formation, and drawing near to it will leave one with the inexorable sensation similar to the altars and temples the other avatars on the other islands that there is...something here. It's hard to say what...

There will be an NPC top-level below, if anyone's interested with interacting with the presence that inhabits the island of Elytlan.

Watch the Beauty Drown
Of course, there's a lot going on in the background as well. Characters are not required to go to Elytlan; you're free to explore any other minor events listed on our Monthly Rundown post. You are also 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!

LOGS ● OOC ● STORIES ● MAIN NAVIGATION

( CODED BY BOOTYCALL )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ The altar near the mana pool, and the ruins surrounding it, are silent. But there's a feeling that grows more and more pronounced as you linger; the feeling of being in the shadow of something vast.

Something will happen, if you linger here. But what? ]

Edited 2020-04-20 13:44 (UTC)

[He's lingering. He's smelling the flowers. Because weirdly enough, it seems to be a very nice place to chill. A good... rock...? It's the flowers he snatched on a whim that are doing it, though of course he's oblivious and probably wouldn't complain anyway. Nothing wrong with feeling nice and relaxed for a change!]

[ There's the rumble of rubble and stone, small, gentle quakes (if such things can be called gentle). The ruins shift and move, half beneath the earth, in an almost serpentine fashion, seemingly in response to the presence of both a visitor and the scent of those flowers.

Then...there's a rumbling sigh. But far from being annoyed, it merely seems sleepy; something like a yawn. ]

[The heavy silence is almost enough to drive Ignis away. Without his sight, it is his hearing he relies on, but silence? Well, that doesn't tell him much at all about the area. Of course, the far too happy shades that wander the rest of the island don't make him feel much more at ease. The only way to find anything out for sure is to wait and see if there is any response from this place. It's here for a reason, just like this island of death has appeared now for a reason, and he would like to know why.]

[ Ignis doesn't have to wait terribly long for something to happen. Pale light flickers along runes and decorations in the ruins that surround the altar, and the ruins themselves move in an almost serpentine fashion.

Then it begins to carefully shake itself, letting clods of earth tumble here and there , but being careful to avoid its visitor.

Whatever this being is, they don't seem particularly inclined to speak first. At least, not yet. ]

[The glowing runes are lost on Ignis, but there is no way he misses the movement. His first temptation is to step back, but with the dropping clods of earth, he knows that is a bad idea. Fortunately, who-or what--ever has appeared is more conscientious than it is talkative. Once things quiet down, Ignis takes a deep breath and then speaks.]

We'll that was a rocking good time, wasn't it?

[Oh please, dear god, don't immediately smite him for his love of bad puns!]

My name is Ignis. May I ask the name of the one who I am addressing?

[ That gets another rumble, a ripple of stone and earth, though if it's one of disapproval, it doesn't seem that way. In fact, it almost seems like the entity in question is laughing. ]

I am Shiyin. [ Their voice sounds like two in one, high and low, combined together. The reason is made clear when more speech comes forth. ]

I am Micteo. [ The ruins rumble, the voice more low than high. Both answers come from all sides, as if the ruins themselves are speaking. ]

Greetings, then Shiyin and Micteo.

[He can't help but smile a little. At least one of them has a sense of humor.]

What is it that has brought you here? This is a rather strange island, not like any we have encountered before.

[Though, they all have had something to teach. What lessons lay hidden on this one?]

(They are curious, and they are patient.

Once they notice the abnormality, the feeling that something is there, they stop and stand, waiting.)

[ The world around Legion rumbles as the ruins move, flickers of light bursting from what seem to be runes engraved on the walls. In slow motions, they circle slowly around Legion, though at a distance; the feeling of being watched, even in a benign way, increases.

Whoever, or whatever, this is - they seem curious. ]

(Their headflaps lift, flutter, and their eye tracks the movement, though they are otherwise still.

They let out a long stream of chatter. For a moment, it seems like that's all they'll say, but then:)

Greetings.

Greetings. [ The entity sounds like two in one; two voices, high and low, entwined together. ] Who is it that wakes us?

Edited 2020-04-28 09:47 (UTC)

We are Legion, relict.

(Their head tilts to the side.)

You are multiple?

[This is an altar, and altars mean gods, and gods mean information, unreliable as it may be. Dead camera in hand (though he's given up on opening the lens cover, given up on really pointing it at anything), Jay tracks this place down, circling it, peering at the details.]

[It's been a while, though, and nothing's spoken up. He's starting to wonder whether or not this altar's god or whatever is well and truly dead.]

[Then the feeling sets in, heavy and oppressive and familiar.]

[He nearly bolts.]

[It's not here.]

[Tim's been wrong before.]

[It's not here.]

[But something is.]

[ Almost like they're responding to his thoughts, the ruins begin to shift and move in a serpentine manner. Shifting walls and pillars, covered in patterns that glow and hum, halos on the walls flickering like eyes blinking. The earth seems to sigh, a breath so large it feels more like a gust of wind than the breath of a living thing.

(There are more visitors here than they have seen in a long time. They suppose it's time to shake off that endless sleep.) ]

Welcome, [ choruses two voices, high and low twined together, as if meshed by some outside force. ]

[Welcome, they say. Friendlier than he's accustomed to.]

[So he doesn't bolt. His heart's beating so hard he can feel his pulse in his throat, but he doesn't bolt. He just holds onto his dead camera, locks his knees, and stares at nothing.]

...Thanks.

[Least he could do if they're gonna be so hospitable, his brain supplies, hysterical.]

There's, uh. More than one of you? In here?

[His sample size is small, but this is the first time he's seen an altar with more than one god attached to it. The blank slab of stone doesn't exactly offer him any hints as to what their whole thing is, too, which is frustrating. At least the previous one had a consistent theme.]

i. meadow

[The shades are eager to get moving, of course. But these are shades of Asgore. So surely it's alright to stop for a spot of tea, right?

There's a cluster of four of them sitting in a circle in the grass, sharing a cup of tea. One has dust leaking from three large holes in his midsection, one seems to have suffered several bullet wounds, and the third shade keeps on choking up the same goldenrod that's twining around his limbs and horns. That's a little unfortunate.

The only Asgore who isn't currently mortally wounded seems to also be the one leading the charge on the tea front. If the others seem to be rushing through this a little, eager to leave...well, he hasn't quite noticed. This is sort of nice!]

Howdy! Would you like some tea? Please, do not mind these three - this is not the same as the time with the evil doubles.

[Maybe the Shadows weren't technically necessarily evil, but his own was just cartoonishly so.]

ii. that old chestnut

[Around the Idol Flute, Asgore appears to be engaged in gathering a lot of those chestnuts. They're good eating, and he's always interested in saving any plant species that seem likely to vanish with the islands they live on. Perhaps he could start to cultivate a chestnut tree back on Enso somewhere; it would take a long time to grow, but...well, he's been here a long time now, hasn't he?]

The wind through the statue sounds very interesting, doesn't it? It reminds me of some places in the Underground.

iii. wildcard

(( hmu with whatever! ))

[...Asgore, are they- ...Are you okay, because he's pretty sure tea is not a normal reaction to this, but-

Alexei has yet to meet any shades of himself, which is probably for the best for the time being; he doesn't doubt he'll come across something odd eventually, but this is a particular sort of odd that's a little confronting if you're not expecting it.]

You're sure it's all right to do so...?

It seems to be.

[What are they gonna do, kill him again?

Speaking of which, the other two give Howdys of greeting. There's basically just three of him now. One more, and they'll have a full party!]

I'm sure they would try to kill me before anyone else, anyway.

i. Arrival

[It feels oddly nostalgic to get back to exploring like this. Truly, it's a freeing sort of experience, though Guzma would never admit it aloud. There's danger, there always is in this world, in some way, but just being able to get out and really see more than just the other side of the island reminds him a little of...when he was younger, perhaps a bit more doe-eyed, and took the first steps of his journey together with his partner Pokemon. It was freeing then, too...at first.

Stretching a bit after the initial arrival, Guzma rolls his shoulders and cracks his neck with a sigh, releasing both his Pokemon - Scizor, and of course...Golisopod. He's not taking any chances, though after a bit of exploring around the alter of the mana pool, it seems...quiet. Eerily so, almost like the island was left this way for eons. Was it abandonned? No, it doesn't feel that way, just...quiet. Lifeless, yet not entirely. It feels almost like the temples of the Tapu, if he had to make a comparison - alive, but terribly quiet. Powerful, but stoic just the same. He lingers, just a moment, before the sensation of being watched is too strong, and he whistles to the two insects to follow after.]

C'mon, we're going further... Tch, place gives me the dang creeps.
---

ii. Reflections

[It's startling, finding a copy of yourself in any situation. More startling when you're not exactly a fan of yourself to begin with. But, seeing a faded version of himself, pale, gaunt, looking like he'd suffocated, with pieces of his body falling away or scattering like dust as it slowly disintegrates or became atomized...well. That's a little more than Guzma was expecting. He holds his breath with the body double walks toward him. Slowly, extremely slowly, a placid sort of smile on it face. He's ready to fight, fingers tightening into fists at his sides as both Pokemon seem...uncertain. They're not sure what to do - fight? But they can't...it's their trainer. It looks like him, smells like him, feels like him.

But there's no need for that. The shade raises an arm, chuckles softly to all three of them - man and Pokemon alike - and simply wanders past. No conversation, no greeting, just a wave of acknowledgment and a calm smile...before it goes. Scizor is the one to take a step forward, not yet used to this world's magics and its tricks, and Guzma snaps at him harshly, a snarl ripping through his grit teeth, despite his previous, forced calm.]

Don't. [He closes his eyes, breathing in and out slowly, deeply...shoulders still shaking.] Don't...follow it.

[Another long, drawn out breath, as he approaches Golisopod, and holds one of those long, crooked parts of his steely carapace. Golisopod lowers itself, and Guzma hops onto his back, rubbing his face as Golisopod raises up. Sometimes you just gotta piggyback your trainer, it's fine.]

Fuckin' tired of chasing some damn ghosts around... [Hopefully no one was around to hear him drop that f-bomb, he doesn't enjoy doing it much, but he truly is tired.]

[ The Knight pops out of the flowers nearby in a burst of glowing petals, just in time to hear the profanity, but because they can't talk and have no interest in tattling to anyone, Guzma's secret is safe with them.

They wade over to Guzma's gathering of Pokemon, clearly having a little difficulty in navigation. In this vast island of flower meadows, it's something of a trial for them that they're mostly limited to just a pair of horns sticking up above the sea of flowers, like the world's most ineffective, tiny shark.

They stretch up to offer a greeting. A black nub sticks out of the flowers and waves back and forth in what's clearly hello, since they definitely recognise Golisopod by now. They don't know Scizor, but any friend of Guzma's is their friend too. ]

[The suddenness of the arrival makes Guzma nearly jump out of his skin, and his heart jumps into his throat for but a second before he has to throw his hand up to stop his two Pokemon from bearing down on the poor little thing. He'd recognize those little horns anywhere, and it's Golisopod who goes to greet the Knight first, easily able to carve his way effortlessly through the long grass and flowers to assist the little bug. Scizor cranes his neck a bit, curious, but stays put at his trainer's instruction.

Golisopod nods his head at the nub waving at him and his trainer, then reaches down to pick them up with those big, meaty claws, and wait for Guzma to come over and take the much smaller bug when he lumbers over.]

Jeez, y'all scared the dang pants off me! [He breathes out a long, tired sigh, taking off his sunglasses and pushing back his white hair as he takes the Knight from Golisopod, holding them in the crook of his arm.] Out here exploring too, huh?

[Hopefully they didn't see the fragment of his past there a second ago, Guzma still feels tense and anxious, and it's easy to tell.]

[This ominous island unnerves her-it's got the same air as her original world and it puts her on edge. There are definitely ghosts her. She has a feeling in her bones and they're never wrong, except when they are, but she's sure there are spirits this time.

There's no danger though. Nothing's happening-it's just quiet.

Except for the movement nearby. A whistle, walking and-

Her head pops up to see whoever's coming towards her and it's her bro with his pokefriends. She grips the arms of her nasty bag, mimicking his whistle to get his attention.]

You came too?

[The whistle does indeed get his attention, and Guzma looks up nearly in sync with his two Pokemon, blinking with mild surprise when his call is mirrored back to him. The surprise is shortlived, however, when he sees who it is and a rare smile appears on his face. He meets Ren halfway, with Golisopod lumbering to greet her and Scizor hanging back, though he looks curious.]

Mm? Ah, yeah...couldn't sit 'round no more n' I was sick of tryin'a clean up my place any more. [It was a mess when he first got back, and he's been scrubbing it clean until his hands were raw, so it's at least livable now...but there's still a part of him that can't help but want to make sure the ick is entirely gone.] Though, ah...not much to see, it seems like.

A) (Hope you don't mind Enso's resident Geth, because now there are three of them. One has a knife in their back, and another has tubes and destroyed machinery hanging out of the hole in its torso, but that doesn't seem to bother either of them - they're all chattering happily at each other in Geth.

When they register that someone is approaching, all three stop, turn, and say simultaneously:)

Greetings.

B) (Eventually, they begin to explore the ruins. The fountain, the tree, and the flute are all of interest to them, but it is the second altar that most catches their interest, and they spend some time poking around it and chattering to themselves.)

Edited 2020-04-27 04:31 (UTC)

Huh?!

[Zidane stops dead in his tracks. Is that three Legions? No, wait. The Geth are Legion's race, aren't they? Did two of them get brought to the island as well? That probably is the case. But that's probably not what Zidane should be worried about now.]

Uh......Legion? Are those friends of yours? They look hurt. [If the uninjured one IS Legion. He's not actually sure.]

(All three Geth look at him, make identical expressions at him.)

Zidane.

(Three voices, all identical. Their paintjobs, identical. Their mannerisms, identical. They are alike in a way that goes beyond species.)

They are us.

(The uninjured one says.)

[i; the days of our years gone]

[For some people, dying was permanent. For Ardyn, a familiar inconvenience. No doubt a shade or two of his walked the island, but for him? Death as most recognized it had only happened once, as with most endings to mortal human lives.]

[And the end of his had come violently.]

[The shade was a terrible sight to behold; a man in white with dark red hair, or he had been once. If one could make out the details, deathly gray skin was marked with creeping black lines like cracks beginning to spiderweb through glass. Golden eyes were marred with black, some horrific ichor running from his eyes like tears. Even had he not been a shade, his form would be an immaterial thing that seemed to be wearing around the edges; the ends of his hair, cloak, even his legs seemed to be having trouble holding shape and instead tapered off into some black wisps of miasma that flickered and wavered like smoke off a wildfire. In the center of his chest was a stain of crimson and tear in his disheveled clothes--a single strike from a thin and wide blade.]

[Despite all of this, the monster smiled gently and spoke in a voice unmistakably Ardyn's, but with an ethereal growl of the daemonic to it.]

The weather's quite nice today, is it not?

[ii; our souls soaked in sin]

[The real Ardyn--that was to say, the current one, all black clothes and bright violet hair--didn't seem to mind the island all that terribly. The overcast nature of it kept the sunlight at bay, and the simple lack of discernible passing time practically made someone who lived outside of the concept feel right at home.]

[He wandered as aimlessly as he ever did, with no clear destination or purpose in mind. Just a vague passing interest in the world and all things around it, and nothing more. Mostly he lingered around the fountain when he did care to pause in such idle exploration. Keeping to himself as ever, with whatever thoughts going through his head entirely his own.]

[iii; these memories ache with the weight of tomorrow]

[wildcard, go nuts]

Edited 2020-04-27 20:10 (UTC)

we are just fragments and pieces
[Church has died but once, back home. Well...that's technically true. He's "died" so many times but only one for real and for certain.

The unfortunate thing is that Church has never been just one. Church is multitudes. Every fragment shed off of him is, in some sense, as much Church as a person unto themselves. They all came from somewhere, from a single source. There are a lot of fragments.

All of them are dead.

So it is entirely possible to come across several colorful, holographic representations of the same type of armor Church and Wash (and Maine and Carolina and Tex and CT) all sport. They range from a cool light blue to vibrant pink-purple, and if anyone was paying attention to Church's lanterns, they all match up. Two of them are constantly by each other's sides, yellow and cyan, holding hands. Not very talkative. Two of them look almost like people, with faces, not armor, in simple outfits, but no real...features to them.

One is perpetually on fire. That's just what he does. Don't worry about it.

One seems to be Tex, apparently, though clad in black armor, never taking it digitally off. There's one of Church himself. ...There's two of Church, actually. From the surface, they look identical. Well, nearly. Maybe one seems to be a lighter, even whiter color, but they're both definitely blue-tinted, and speak with the same voice.

All of them are from some moment of death. That moment is represented by their forms glitching, going skewed and jagged, their voices warbling and cutting out, everything stuttering, before evening out again.

One is human. Actually human. A man who's been on the island before, briefly, with thick glasses and salt and pepper hair and eyes so bright green they practically glow. Director Leonard Church stands placidly, hands behind his back, and a clearly self-inflicted gunshot wound through his head. He's the most placid of all of them, congenial but clearly not too interested in making conversation.

Eleven in all to run into. And they'll take you different places if you let them.]

don't even know our own secrets
[Church, the real and actual and present one, does some exploring. He's...cautious, but there doesn't seem to be any malevolence to this one. The clock on his HUD's stopped, though, and this place reminds him of one of the floating islands, but just...quieter. Save for the birds. The...birds? The uhhhh shadows cawing above.

He takes a visit to each weird idol in turn, waiting for something awful to happen. It never does. Well, aside from running into the AI and getting summarily creeped the fuck out by them, but otherwise, it's just...kind of nice, kind of weird? It's the tree that gets him most, with the smell of sweet pea flowers relaxing him. Even so much that the fact that the actual birds are fucking silent doesn't bother him. So much.

The second altar does bother him, as much as his relaxed state will let him, and he runs a hand over smooth stone. Something else? A second avatar, one that used to be here, or one that just hasn't shown itself? He lays himself out on the slab, because he's not all that bright sometimes, and watches the shadows circle in the clouds.]

Not sure who or what's here, but this place sure could use some color, if you've got it in you.

A - mind the cw's

There are two other Ginkos on the island.

Neither is human; one looks much how he does now, species-wise, covered in white fur and green crystal. But his left arm is still intact, his face even paler than it is now - and there’s a scent of salt clinging to him, and, somehow, water always spilling from his nose and mouth.

The other shadow looks… strange, for one thing. Dark hair patched in with white, insectoid wings affixed to his back and looking far too flimsy compared to the rest of his body. He limps on hooves that he doesn’t seem quite used to, though he doesn’t seem bothered by them either. Or by the ragged gashes in his leg, or the deep puncture wound in his shoulder, or the fact that his abdomen has been torn open from the bottom of his ribs to the top of his hips, a ragged hole exposing a mess of mangled, bloodied organs.

Either shade, if he notices any familiar - or unfamiliar - figure nearby, will react with immediate, gentle interest, ears perking forward as he approaches. “Hey.”

B - idol flute

The real, living Ginko, meanwhile, has happened upon something interesting. This place should probably make him somewhat suspicious - or, more accurately, he is kind of suspicious. But, as the wind whistles through the forest, he finds that that suspicion doesn’t scare him. He’ll just make a mental note of it, and pay attention.

Frankly, though that lack of fear - or guilt, or longing or loneliness - is… something of a relief, and the shrine looks like as good a place as any to take a break from exploring. So, though he’ll be keeping a careful eye out for any potential danger, Ginko sits down at the base of a tree to rest, watching the chestnut trees in silence.

(( OOC: If you want to do something outside these prompts, hit me up in the game discord, over PM, or at

omixgirl10! If tagging prompt A, please indicate in the tag or subject line if you have any preference between the two ghost options. ))

Edited 2020-04-29 18:42 (UTC)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

New Island: Elytlan

avatar...? | ota

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ASGORE | OTA | cw: emeto, overgrowth stuff

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Guzma | OTA

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i

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Legion | OTA

A

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Ardyn Lucis Caelum | ota | cw: mild body horror

leonard church | cw: suicide

Ginko | OTA | gore/drowning/potential emeto cw in first prompt