lifeaftr | August Intro: These Days Are Feeling Dark

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August Intro: These Days Are Feeling Dark

INTRO LOG: AUGUST

Who: New arrivals, and you!
What: New souls arrive to the archipelago of LifeAftr
When: August 4th and onward
Where: Primarily Nastrandir
Warnings: Mark as needed!

Our lucky new adventurers join the archipelago on a new chapter of our journey, with the new island of Nastrandir playing host to their arrival. With the events of last month leaving many questions in those more settled in LifeAftr, all will find they soon have…other things to think about.

New arrivals may awake at either of the locations listed below. Or they may wander!

A4: Show Me Distraction
In comparison to the warm welcome characters experienced on Io, the land of Nastrindir is not at all promising. The strip of coast hosting the mana pool is a scoop of rock and cliff, and rather unforgiving. To the east, however, it looks as though nearby wetlands leave the horizon lost in a foggy haze. The mana pool is generally a comforting, reliable constant on any island...generally. There looks to be something wrong with this one. The rocks surrounding it are blackened, various spots across their surface almost glass-like under the summer sun. After a brief inspection, most will probably gather that the pool has been set on fire in times past.

More annoying still is the tampering that's occured within the pool. The pool is partially obstructed, due to a blockage of tumbled rocks and boulders that seem to have fallen from the surrounding rocky landscape and toppled into the raised plinth. The choking of the mana water will make return trips to Ensō…inconvenient, to say the least. The rocks are an annoyance that will need to be removed before anyone will be travelling anywhere.

Also of note are the old statues that stand at opposing sides of the mana pool. In their prime, they may have towered a good fifteen or twenty feet tall. Now, however, one has been tipped onto its side, and there are large, crumbled chunks taken out of the other. Both look blackened, much like the mana pool, as though they were also set on fire at some point in their history. Whatever they may have meant to depict has been lost to time...but the parts of them that have survived look to represent smooth, rounded coils of something or another.

It might feel, to the particularly wary or those prone to paranoia, like these statues are watching you. Like they're representative of something else that might have its eye on you, even now.

Or they might not! It could be all in your head. What's way more important is the local flora in the vicinity. The parts of the land that have soil are currently host to some delightful plants that are known, colloquially, as candyplants. And, yes - they're exactly what they sound like.

Candyplants are odd plants that are not unlike a melon vine, except that their fruits take the form of giant candies. The candyfruit is quite edible, though much higher in sugar content than your more bog standard varieties of fruits and vegetables. The variation in the shapes and sizes and flavors is tremendous - some are shaped like fruit, and will have a very similar taste to the fruit they represent. The only exceptions are the ones that look rather like overgrown candy corn, which taste like...marshmallows, for some reason. But they still taste sweet, and they're still full of some of the nutrients you'd expect to find in ordinary fruit!

While candyplants are somewhat less sugary than their real candy equivalents, it's still not recommended that you gorge on them overmuch. They're probably pretty bad for your teeth, if you have any. Candyplants do keep for quite some time, though - particularly if dried, packed in jars, or otherwise preserved.

Candyplants grow in temperate areas near quantities of fresh water - which Nastrandir has in abundance. Most of them grow in shaded, open areas along the ground, like melons; plants that bear smaller candyfruits may instead behave like grapes and other climbing vines, especially when they would be otherwise crowded out by other ground plants. The plants and fruits are quite harmless, though the sweet, sugary smell that tends to linger around areas of rampant growth during hot weather can cause one hell of migraine.

B4: Snakes Are Biting at My Heels
Those who arrive a little ways away from the mana pool or find themselves daring enough to start exploring will end up on the B4 square, which is closer to the swampy environment more characteristic of Nastrandir's inland. The further east one progresses, the wetter and softer the ground underfoot will get, until you're slogging thigh-deep in freshwater algae and muck. It's pretty dirty work, but it's probably more advisable that you go roaming into the wetlands rather than sticking around in the rockier regions. - especially because those regions happen to be occupied.

That feeling of paranoia that may or may not have settled on the back of your neck on A4 will turn out to be justified. Flickers of motion in the corner of your eye, the sensation of something watching you, the clattering of pebbles and rocks sliding down the sloping inclines on Nastrandir's craggy landscape - all signs indicative that something else frequents this region.

And something does. Something large, scaly, and very hungry.

Rocobra have now been unlocked in the bestiary!

The spiny protrusions on this creature's long, sinuous body will make it quite difficult to distinguish from its surroundings; these beasts tend to disguise themselves as the surrounding mountain rock where they live. Mild chameleonic properties allow this predator to blend almost seamlessly in with a rocky environment of almost any texture and color. And, given the size of them, it's very possible you won't realize that you're stuck in one's coils until it's too late.

With thick, scaly hides, large jaws, and venomous teeth, the rocobra is deadly fast despite its significant bulk. Even at their smallest, the rocobra is often as thick as a tree trunk in girth, and can range from thirty to sixty feet in length. Rocobra specialize in draping themselves in a circle, concealing themselves among their surroundings, and waiting for unsuspecting prey to wander somewhere in their coils before drawing tight around them to constrict them into a slow and painful death, so they might be devoured.

The good news is that rocobra only ever hunt and live in solitude; it is highly unlikely you'll find more than one in any one area. Most cannot spit venom, but can deal a paralyzing strike with massive fangs that are just as likely to impale you as they are to poison you. The good news is that they do have a weakness, and that weakness is numbers - when there is more than one target for the rocobra to focus on, it can get hopelessly confused over who it should be striking first, and can be easily distracted and led along by a well-coordinated team or pair. It's advised that you strike it at the mouth, if possible, as those scales can be awfully hard to penetrate.

While the danger rocobra present is very real, that doesn't mean they're completely useless. Rocobra can potentially be harvested for venom, meat, or their tough, scaly hides.

All new arrivals will awake with knapsacks, their names stitched to the front. The contents of said knapsacks can all be found in your acceptance notices!

As a final note to those who participated in the Test Drive Meme, bear in mind that those threads, if all parties involved would like, can be game canon in the form of dream-like memories involving a place very much like this one, though the layout is considerably different.

Feeling a tad adrift? Make sure to check the Locations Page, which has details regarding the starting areas and a handy map for those who feel better with a bird's eye view!

LOGS ● OOC ● STORIES ● MAIN NAVIGATION

( CODED BY BOOTYCALL )

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[Crowley loses a word to a hiss, snaps his mouth shut and takes a brief second to breathe, trying to regain a little composure.]

Nowhere is safe, Aziraphale, don't you get that? We don't get to be safe.

[It was stupid of him to ever think otherwise, when everything about their life would speak to the opposite. He'd entertained the idea for one entire afternoon, that maybe they could be... something other than a demon and an angel. Something other than hereditary enemies.

But it was stupid. God won't let him be happy, that would defeat the purpose of making him Fall in the first place.]

[Aziraphale goes quiet, stung. He stares at Crowley, really stares, like he's trying to look straight through him.

Then, with jaw set, he says:] No one does.

[They're special, but they're not.]

But they make the best of what they do get, don't they? And they learn not to let their fear take over. Even if they go about it the hard way. Even if they're stupid enough that it takes them almost losing everything to figure it out.

[Does that sound familiar? It should.]

Let's not do this again, Crowley.

[He wants to argue that it's different, that humans don't have to worry on the same scale that Crowley and Aziraphale exist on, but the words cut right through him and he can't say anything for a long moment.

Can't even look at Aziraphale, actually, suddenly terrified of what he might see. If there's something there that might show he means all those words, that he's talking about what Crowley has been hoping he'd talk about for centuries. But he can't bear it, if he let's hope crawl up into him it'll kill him when he has to cut it out again.

His fingers twitch, wanting to reach for his glasses, put that barrier back up, except it'd be so, so obvious now. As if he isn't already pitifully obvious.

When he finally finds his voice, it's tight.]

Do what, Aziraphale?

[He has to ask, even if he's scared of the answer.]

[He wants to say you know what, but Crowley doesn't, does he?

Aziraphale swallows, feeling strange. Nervous, almost. Queasy? Still?

— and sad.

And sorry.]

I never should've pushed you away like I did. Or said some of the things I said.

[All the tension drains out of Crowley like blood from a wound. He goes still, shoulders sinking and carefully plucks his sunglasses from his shirt to put them back on as casually as he can manage.

It's not particularly effective, but it's better than shoving them on the way he wanted to do thirty seconds ago.]

S'fine, you were scared, I get it. [At the end of the day, when Crowley digs deep into himself, he knows that Aziraphale cares about him, that's never been the question. The shape of it that care has been the question. Whether it was more powerful than his fear of Heaven, of Hell, of repercussions. And Crowley can't blame him for being cautious.

He's always had so much more to lose.] Think we both said things we didn't mean, yeah?

[When I'm off in the stars, I won't even think about you.]

[Crowley's careful placement of his sunglasses has the same effect as shoving them on would have. Aziraphale feels, suddenly, distanced from him. Blocked off.

It makes him bristle.]

I'm trying to say I'm sorry.

[Not make excuses. Not make Crowley get it.

He's just trying to, for the first time, apologize.]

[It would be so, so easy to sneer back at him with I forgive you in that same holier-than-thou tone. Make a mockery of the words that Aziraphale threw in his face, but Crowley isn't angry enough to be quite that cruel. Those sorts of purposeful injuries are more Aziraphale's thing.]

It's — [He breathes in, lets it out slowly.] Apology accepted, if you really think you have to give one.

[There. Done. Can they move on now? Maybe he'll feel less like his heart is trying to crawl out of his throat once they move on.]

[Crowley's response gives Aziraphale no sense of comfort whatsoever. No sense of finality. No closure. He almost feels like Crowley doesn't even mean it, but he's too tired to chase him about it. He's too tired to keep arguing.

So he simply looks at Crowley, then looks down at his own clasped hands. When he speaks again, it's to the ground.]

We'll have to find a place to stay.

[It's not the answer Aziraphale wanted, and it twists unpleasantly, but Crowley's not in the mood to rectify it. Maybe if this had come back at the bookshop while he was wine buzzed and warm, after a nice lunch at The Ritz, Crowley could've been careful and receptive and appreciative of the apology. But he's tired, he's cranky, he feels miserable all over again, some of the exhaustion from the past eleven years finally seeping in after the giddiness of survival had banished it, briefly.

He wants to sleep for a decade.]

Back to civilization, then?

[Not that there's much civilization on the island, but there's got to be something more than just this library and Denny. Crowley hasn't had the opportunity to properly explore.]

Or what passes for it here, I suppose.

[Said grimly.

No crepes. One restaurant, if it can even fairly be labeled as such.

At least there's a library.]

Do you want to have a wander?

Sure.

[He's struck by the urge to offer his hand, mostly because he'd spent their entire time at The Ritz thinking about doing just that, but the past few moments have sucked the wind out of his sails. Things are uncomfortable again, and he knows that's partly his fault.

Best to just shove his hands in his pockets and start walking. He's heading back the way he came, first, and once they're out of the marsh they can go from there.]

It can't be that bad, anyway. I mean, look at it this way, we survived pre-industrial civilization once. Maybe it'll be easier the second go 'round.

[Except last time they did it, they had the full scope of their powers, but — still.]

Edited 2019-08-08 13:54 (UTC)

[What's unfortunate is that Aziraphale's hit by the same urge, but Crowley blocks him at the pass, again.

Then he's on his feet promptly, falling into his usual easy rhythm at Crowley's side — despite a minute ago. His hands go behind his back, his attention re-focuses: He starts looking around, curious, feeling safe enough now to start absorbing the smaller details that needed overlooking earlier.]

We'll just have to be more mindful of... our needs. The sleeping, and whatnot. I imagine that will make this all a great deal easier.

[That's the thing about knowing someone for as long as Crowley's known Aziraphale. The discomfort still sits like a weight behind his sternum, but familiarity does so much to ease it. How many times have they walked together like this, exploring some new country, new town, new park? The circumstances are wildly different, but it's still him and Aziraphale, the way it has been for millennia.]

Right, that reminds me. [He takes a moment to dig the water bottle out of his bag, offering it over. He refilled it at Denny, so it's not as ice cold, but there's plenty of it.] D'you even remember how to sleep? I know you've never been big on it.

[Although maybe it'll be easier now that it's something his physical body needs.]

[Aziraphale takes the bottle with what passes for a grateful nod, but it's not long after that he clicks his tongue and half-rolls his eyes.]

Of course I remember how.

[He's had a nap or two these past... few centuries...]

You just — [He waves his hand vaguely, indicating nothing at all, before taking a pull from the bottle.] Close your eyes.

[That's about what he thought.

This is familiar, too, the back and forth with just a hint of bickering. Whatever it is that's going on between them, at least this still makes sense.]

Right, well, you're not waking me up when it's whatever passes for three am here and you can't sleep.

[The protest is entirely for show, Crowley wouldn't mind if Aziraphale had to wake him for any reason, even if it was simple as him being bored.]

[Aziraphale opens his mouth to volley a comment back, but finds himself pausing and slowly looking sideways at Crowley instead.

There might be the tiniest hint of a smile on his face.]

We'll be sharing quarters, then?

[Crowley doesn't have to look at him to know that smile, and it makes him bristle a little, despite the fact that is what he'd been thinking.]

Never said that, maybe I just know you'd come knocking wherever I holed up once you got bored enough.

[There's something in his tone that really can only be described as sulking.]

Ah.

[Aziraphale turns his attention forward again, if only to slightly redirect his smirk.]

Well. I suppose you're right. Could save me the walk, though...

If you'd like to share quarters, you could just ask.

[He's not entirely sure what he's annoyed about, except maybe just the ease with which Azirapahle assumed, still, in the face of everything.]

If there even are quarters, who knows what the set up here is. Could be sleeping under the stars for the next few months.

[Crowley could've phrased that a dozen different ways. Could've just said sleeping outside. Could've said in the cold — not that it's particularly cold. But no; he said under the stars, and Aziraphale pictures the two of them sprawled on lush grass somewhere, stargazing drowsily.

The image sticks. He almost feels like that wouldn't be so bad a situation to deal with.

He clears his throat.]

I may have been... entertaining the thought that the two of us might try to at least be in closer proximity, back home. After everything. For safety. But we were abducted before I had the chance to bring it up, alas. Since you're so concerned about our safety here, doesn't it make sense to — what's that saying? Shack up together?

[AZIRAPHALE THAT'S NOT WHAT THAT MEANS.]

[Crowley has the distinction impression of his thoughts as a record on a player, going neatly in the direction they're supposed to go, only for Aziraphale to come along and oh-so-casually send the arm skittering across the surface.

Was he going to ask that Crowley move closer? That they move in together? There's a million ways to take that implication and he doesn't know if he wants to ask. Not to mention the phrasing.

He's going to go back to the shore and wade into the ocean and never come out, lest he have to deal with this.]

That is not what that means.

[The words tumble out without really consulting the rest of him.]

[First he finds out it's not lick butt, and now this?

His entire worldview is shattered.

He furrows his brow.]

No?

No, it's — I— w— [That thing happens, where he tries to make words out of unconnected syllables and he ends up stumbling over all of them, just a little string of sounds before he manages to pull himself together.

Mostly because he decides he's not even going to try to explain.] Look, if we find some kind of habitable structure, we can stick together. You're right, it's safer that way.

[Aziraphale has to fight the genuine smile that pulls at his mouth. He manages, somehow. Successfully.]

Good.

[Good, then. It's settled.]

It may also be wise to find weapons, at some point. Sooner rather than later.

[Good. Yes. It's settled. Let's never talk about shacking up together again.]

Shouldn't have given that bloody sword back.

[Probably shouldn't have given it away in the first place, although Crowley is reminded just how kind that gesture was, now that he has to consider things like heat sources again.]

I dunno that a weapon'll do me much good. I'm not, you know — [He vaguely gestures in Aziraphale's direction, as if to indicate The Principality.] Never was much for fighting.

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