imaginarylogs | prelude {{ Log 01.

Island Prelude ; Log 01

Life's a beach—

You wake up on the beach.

Okay, scratch that: you wake up on a beach. Some beach, somewhere. You don't know where it is, much less why you're there. You can feel the warm sun and a light breeze on your skin, along with the insidious prickle of sand worming its way into your fantasy Nikes. You have no memory of being here — but then again, you might not have any memory of being anywhere else.

At least you're not alone. There are other people scattered along this beach, toes trailing in the surf as they brush sand out of their shirts or shake seaweed from their weapons. Each and every one of them has an unremovable bracer locked around their wrist. Maybe you should get up. Lend a helping hand, or ask for one. Maybe somebody else knows more about the situation than you do. Maybe somebody else knows where that music is coming from. Is there a beach party going on?

—& then you d̵̡̪̻̿̽͒i̸̟͓͍͌̾͐ë̸͖͇̪́̔͊.

There's only so far you get before noticing that something's wrong, though. Even if you've got no memories but your name, something in you knows that trees aren't supposed to look like that. They're not supposed to be so . . . low-res. Right?

But these trees, not to put too fine a point on it, kind of suck. Some of them, anyway. Every few trees has one patch that flickers in and out of existence like an old neon sign. Every couple rocks seems to have spasmed and frozen up in one large pixel blob. If you touch these glitched spaces, nothing happens to you, but it certainly doesn't feel right. It doesn't feel like you're touching anything at all.

Looking back to the space you woke up, you might notice a pattern. The section of beach strewn with newly-conscious amnesiacs is exceptionally glitchy. There are a couple small patches of sky that seem to just be missing. And out at sea? There's way more of them out there.

If you're a strong swimmer, you might try swimming out toward the horizon. There's only so far you can go, though. After about half a mile, you hit some kind of resistance and blip back onto the beach. Watch the sea long enough, and you might see some boats making the same mistake — although they just end up closer to shore rather than beached, fortunately for them. Boats are expensive, and the barrier, whatever it is, seems to be doing its best not to damage them.

(Jaws Theme)

Walking up the beach towards the source of the music, you start to feel a little bit watched. Turn, and there's no one there. Just a quaint thatch-roofed vending machine with a strange cat face on the plate. Innocuous, though, and certainly nothing to worry about. So you keep going.

Except then you feel it again. And if you manage to pause in time, you'll hear this shuffling sound, like wood dragging through sand. Turn again, and the vending machine is right behind you. Like, right behind you. There's no way it moved fast enough to close that distance, and yet.

There are some options here. You can run — but it'll catch up. You can try to fight it — but you'll just hurt your hand (or other appendage). You can try to reason with it — but it's unrelenting. What it wants, as you'll soon discover, is to yeet a small bottle of dark, thick liquid at your face. It's also very insistent that you drink it. If you don't, it'll just fling another one at you, and keep flinging them, until you're crushed to death by vials or drink one, whichever comes first.

Everyone gets this treatment. The vending machine is never in two places at once, but its ubiquity might make it seems as though it is. When one inevitably breaks down and drinks the Kool-aid, it tastes just awful, but at least it's over and done with now. Surely this will never come up again.

This sparks joy

If you follow the music for long enough, you'll find yourself in easily one of the busiest places on the Island. The marketplace that spreads out before you is known as the Boardwalk, a fact that's easy to discover from any of the friendly locals. For most of you, these will be the first people you've encountered who didn't wash up on the beach alongside you. They're very fuzzy faces, too. The Animalians, a menagerie of anthropomorphic animals, almost all speak Common and seem pretty unfazed by the cluster of bewildered strangers. After all, new faces mean new customers!

There are a truly ridiculous number of things for sale on the Boardwalk. The predominant one is food, of course, and the smells hanging over the canvas tents and open-air stalls are positively mouth-watering. There are a wide variety of foods represented here. Maybe one or two of them will strike you as familiar, or trigger a memory? Pretty much all of them are delicious, though, so there's nothing to lose by digging in. Other goods include clothing, weaponry, art, and jewelry in a variety of styles. If you're lucky, you might find a tent that sells beautiful locally-made instruments — a Bard's dream!

Lack of coinage won't be too much of a handicap here. Barter is welcome, and should you not have enough to barter with, most sellers are happy to trade goods for services. It's highly likely that a newcomer or two will be found up to their elbows in dishes by the end of the night, or doing similar odd jobs for vendors.

Still, no one gets through an excursion to the Boardwalk without being swept into at least one dance. It comes out of nowhere: an Animalian's paw or claw on your elbow, a gentle nudge at the small of your back, and you're swept toward the gazebo, the source of the music that's been swelling all day and into the evening. It's joyous and captivating, the Animalians' love of dance infectious. Even buzzkills might be tempted to softshoe just a little.

What's this? What's this?

The Island seems to be sprouting miscellanea. Extremely distinctive weaponry stuck up a tree, books half-buried in sand or earth, clothing neatly folded or possibly being worn by an animal, or Animalian . . . At some point, it just becomes chaos. There's a great deal to recover, or to steal if that's more your bag. On the other hand, you might choose to be helpful and match belongings with their owners. You never know: a found item might help someone find the memory that goes along with it.

Just west of the Boardwalk, there's something else that might be familiar. At the center of a saltwater lake, easy to get to by rowboat, is a miniature island and swim-up bar. Each place is adorned by a menu listing strange and deja vu-inducing items, from nanchos to decaf espresso paradox. Some are helpful. Some are harmful. Some are just weird? He'll make you anything on the menu, but nothing more. Strangely, should you be overcome by the urge to ask the chef for something special and unique, he will gravely extend one of his tentacles and place a single, smooth, heart-shaped stone in your palm. The squid does not speak Common, but you understand an IOU when you're delicately, slimily handed one.

There's so much to explore here that, by the end of the day when you stumble back to the cabanas and attempt to sort out where you're going to collapse for the night, you haven't covered more than a sliver of it. There's tomorrow and the days after for looking around more, for stumbling across more of your belongings (or other people's), for discovering ruins and murals and memories. No matter how much time you take to fuss over sleeping arrangements, everyone ends up more or less in the same place: an open-air cabana, with the breeze blowing over them through the night and into the morning.

Everyone dreams — peacefully — of the moon.

OOC

Welcome, everyone, to the first Island log, our Prelude! While we will not be taking RNG requests during this log, we encourage you to stretch out, explore the space, and get your ~~sea~~ island legs. For questions pertaining to this log, go here. For general questions, head to the FAQ. For more places to explore in this first log, check out the Setting and NPC pages.

NAVIGATION ⯈

code bases by tricklet

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Well... I can't argue with that.

[ Not when she's so earnest! She lets out a breath of a laugh, then seems to relax just a little. ]

I'll try not to step on your feet, too.

Don't worry, my toes are super tough!

[A...are they though???

She shimmies her hips and shoulders to the beat as she starts to move her feet, trying to gently lead Mira by their joined hands. You could say it's a bit of a...saucy beat.

Because it's a salsa.

fingerguns.jpg] Have you ever done this before?

[ wow i can't believe i have to drop the game now it was a good run

The little laugh that bubbles up isn't because she's laughing at Sayori... she's just a little nervous. But she follows Sayori's lead, glancing down at her feet every couple of moments. ]

This sort of dance? N-no, not really.

[rip michelle, u will be missed

Sayori is pretty careful not to step on Mira's toes. If she stepped on a cute girl's feet she'd probably die, so, gotta avoid any more of that. (The Animalians were very patient with Sayori's learning process.)]

Yeah, me too! [After a moment, an echo of a feeling, she clarifies:] I learned a different kind of dance before. You have to move your hips a lot for this one!

[Not really her wheelhouse generally, but she's trying her best! With great enthusiasm!]

Oh--

[ Sayori's enthusiasm is really hard to not pick up on, honestly. And it helps a lot; Mira's laugh comes a little easier, her movements more relaxed and easy now. ]

Well... you're leagues ahead of me right now! But I think I'm getting it.

[Like a feedback loop of excitement, Mira's laughter just makes Sayori glow brighter (figuratively speaking.)] You're doing great! I think you've already caught me!!

[She does a little roll of her shoulders and then lifts their linked hands high, inviting Mira to do a twirl!]

Ah-- well, you make it easy to follow!

[ This is a much better first meeting than dissecting magic frogs, right? Nevermind that it's a first meeting for only one of them... but she's not thinking about that. Nope. Not even a little.

She continues not thinking about it as she twirls at Sayori's behest, letting out another laugh. Those not-thoughts--she pushes those down easily, and gives her hand a squeeze as if telling Sayori to do a twirl, too. ]

[Welcome to the "aggressively not thinking about the memory loss" club, your membership badge and embroidered jacket will arrive in 4-6 weeks!]

Ehehe, you think so?

[Sayori is Definitely Not Thinking about the prickle of familiarity in the back of her mind when she looks at Mira, at least. She grins and takes the invitation in turn, doing a little spin and then extending her opposite arm out wide with a flourish!] I'm not used to, like— leading?

[Is that how to put it? Why does she feel that way, anyway?]

[ Oh, Sayori... Mira ducks her head a little to hide the flicker of upset that dashes across her face. Hopefully she didn't see that. Hopefully she won't bring it up if she did. But she flashes Sayori a slightly tremulous smile. ]

Well.... you must be a natural, then! [ A laugh. ] Then again... maybe I'm just having so much fun here.

[In many ways, Sayori is not a very subtle person. She loves easily, indulges loudly, devotes herself absolutely to the things that are important. But there are a lot of subtle things about her, and though she no longer has the words to articulate most of them, she's come to recognize those things when she sees them in other people.

It's just a glimpse of something. She doesn't even really see Mira's face, but she catches the way that Mira hides whatever her face is doing, and that's enough. But she can't understand what she's said that might be upsetting. And...the way Mira smiles afterwards strikes a painfully familiar chord.

She doesn't want to talk about it. That's what that means.

Sayori puts on a goofier grin and steps in closer to the other girl.] Hey, if I'm a natural, I bet we can try something even fancier! It'll be fun too, I promise!

[Distraction. Sayori is pretty good at distractions.]

[ Sayori doesn't press her... and for that, Mira's grateful. And it helps. Maybe one day she'll talk about it, about how there's an ache in her chest whenever she talks with someone who doesn't know her, whenever she thinks about who she might see next and what if they don't remember, too, and what if one day they wake up and she's the only one who remembers anything, and now she knows how her brother must have felt--

The distraction helps, and Mira pushes that all away. Deep, deep down, she thinks, where it can't bubble up and chip away at the smile--genuine and warm, and steadier--that's spreading across her lips. ]

You promise? I'll hold you to that, you know.

[Okay. Okay, that's an improvement. It looks like Mira is taking the out.] Yeah, I promise! If I'm wrong I'll buy you some ice cream!

[But the delighted, impish tilt to her grin as she sets her other hand gently on Mira's waist says that she doesn't think she'll be wrong.] Ready?

[ Sayori is too cute. And Mira's a bit flustered when her hand rests against her waist, but she also doesn't stop her. It's still new, to have people touch her, but also...

It's nice. And Sayori is a bright spot of sunshine; how can she not return that smile? ]

And if you're right, I'll buy you ice cream. But yes--I'm ready.

[Gasp.] You've got a deal!

[And that said, Mira's gonna have to get used to the touching pretty quickly, because Sayori slides closer as her whole arm goes around Mira's waist.

And then comes the dip! Sayori isn't exactly buff, but her months of training are more than enough to let her support the weight of Mira's back for this moment.]

[ There are very few people she'd trust to have this close, and luckily, Sayori's one of them. She lets out a laugh, bright and easy, as she lets Sayori dip her, even. ]

If you were trying to impress me, it's definitely working!

[HECK yes.

Sayori beams with delight. And also victory, because her plan totally worked.

And something rattles loose then, as she holds the other girl in the dip and grins at her: a name. Mira. Yeah, this girl's name is Mira. They were friends.]

Ehehe~ So I get ice cream, right? [That's not as important as making sure Mira is having fun, though. She's just teasing.

She straightens them up and loosens her grip, lifting her other arm so Mira can spin again.]

prelude {{ Log 01.

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