imaginarylogs | prelude {{ Log 01.

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

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blink.

[ Shortly after arriving... Mira goes for a swim.

She's always been a strong swimmer, and the ocean doesn't frighten her. Plenty of other things do: heights, ghosts, the absence of magic-- No, she's not thinking about that. It's something she hasn't thought about, not a hundred thousand times when she can't sleep. Nope. Not thinking about that when she has things to figure out here. Things like why some people remember more than their names, things like why the rocks and trees look so weird, things like why her abilities have changed.

But right now, the ocean. Mira swims and swims and--

... Pops back onto the beach. She blinks, stunned, and looks down at herself like she isn't quite sure what just happened. ]

... Huh.

[ What the fuck? ]

wild shape.

[ ... Okay, listen. She has a lot on her mind, but right now, Mira's kind of bored. Maybe it's that the island is so big, or maybe it's that she's not quite sure what to do with herself, but she's spent way too long just wandering. So, you know. It's time to play a little. She's sort of not expecting this to result in anything; she hasn't tried to use any magic, but one moment, there's Mira.

And then in her place, there's a cat. A sleek cat, black with sliver stripes, and grey eyes. The cat blinks, then turns to you and tilts her head, almost as if to say, Huh, how about that?

Or maybe the cat's feeling a little mischievous, and whatever you're holding, she tries to swipe... She'll give it back, promise! ]

ruins.

[ It's a couple days in when she's feeling particularly restless that Mira heads out to that foot-shaped island. She isn't sure what she's looking for, really, just... wandering. But when she manages to come across those murals, she spends a while just looking up at them with a pensive look. ]

These are... our abilities, aren't they?

[ Or... she's come across the juicier mural--the one of the confrontation. She more quietly considers this, like she's not entirely sure what to make of it. ]

wildcard.

[ want to do something else? hit me! ]

[Nana is minding her business, looking around Boardwalk, when a clothesless, non-humanoid-shaped cat starts playing with her bunny ears and trying to grab her tiara. She tries to crane her neck (with a slightly painful sounding popping noise) toward the mischievous cat.]

Nngh, hey! Cut that out!

[Nana crudely grabs the cat and holds it high up into the air.]

Umm, whose sassy lost child is this? Anyone?

[ The cat, who's smaller than your usual housecat, gives an almost pitiful meow and slumps in Nana's hands. Her tail swishes, and she lets out another meow. This is too cruel....

Well, how does Nana like... a cold nose against her hand? ]

[She likes it...?]

Ahahah! No, that tickles!

[Nana loosens her grip as she spasms from the tickle-induced laughter. She loosens her grip a bit too much, completely letting go of the animal.]

AAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!

[She begins flailing her arms around trying to catch the cat as it plummets to the ground.]

[ Luckily, she manages to right herself, and she lands right in Nana's hands! With a perplexed look up at her...

And a puzzled meow? as her ears twitch. Look! She's cute! ]

[The couple of days are enough for Papyrus to conclude: his memories aren't coming back on their own, and it'll take more than finding keys or exploring the boardwalk for him. Something bigger is needed, something daring. Something like... exploring the ruins!

He's not quite right about the expedition unlocking the mysteries of his past, but there's something to the place. The walls of murals, with their mysterious figures and painted over writing, seem... familiar, somehow. He's in his second circuit, wondering if the familiarity is that he's been here before or something, when he runs across someone else with different ideas.]

Our abilities...?

[Papyrus pauses next to a set and considers. Depictions of gestures that end with a blast of energy from one's hand... Another set, turning a foe into a friend...]

Hey, I think you're right. That looks like stuff I can do!

[It's not the familiar he was looking for, but he'll take it.]

[ She's peering at one of a person with a thorny whip in hand, and it makes her wonder... can she do that? It'd be useful... It's something she'll tuck at the back of her mind, to try later when she's more alone and no one can see her possibly fail.

But the comment catches her attention, and she nods. ]

I'm glad I'm not the only one who thinks so. What drawings are familiar to you?

That one with the blast, and this one, and...

[Papyrus walks along the walls, taking in the various pictures and dismissing most of them as he goes, and taps on one where a smaller animal appears from the air.]

And this one, it seems very familiar.

[The small white dog at his heels wags its tail, enthusiastic to be acknowledged in wordplay. Rather than stay with the skeleton, it veers off toward Mira to give her a few investigatory sniffs. Does she have a dog familiar, too??]

[ The wordplay doesn't go unnoticed, and she lets out a little laugh. And--oh, gosh, what a cute dog. It makes her miss hers, but she's not about to rain on his parade. Rather, she kneels down and holds out her hand. ]

Hello there. You're very cute. [ She glances back at Papyrus. ] You're very lucky to have a familiar. I'd love to have one myself, but... well, I suppose turning into an animal is just as neat.

[The dog agrees, it is very cute. It could even be illegally cute, if people were passing ridiculous laws about cuteness. Good thing they're not doing that! Instead it's free to lick Mira's hand, then encourage her to pet it with an enthusiastic head bump.

Papyrus, for his part, turns from the mural with surprise.]

You can turn into an animal...? That does sound neat! It's like you're your own familiar.

[Minus the companionship, but also minus the occasional need to go figure out what the familiar has gotten into this time.]

[ How cute... it's almost enough to take her mind off of how worried she is about this whole thing. But, at the same time... dog. She gives its head a pet or several, then looks up at Papyrus with a nod. ]

Mm, I was a little surprised I could... but you aren't entirely wrong, I think. It's a great way to look at it, at least.

[ More pets for the familiar! ]

Have you given it a name?

Not that I remember... So I'm waiting, in case I forgot!

[How embarrassing would it be to give the dog a name, only to later remember a completely different name? Papyrus shakes his head, then squints at the dog.]

If it knows its name... It hasn't shared that with me.

[The dog continues enjoying the pets, unimpeded by Papyrus' stare. What's in a name, but sounds that a small dog's mouth would have trouble replicating, anyway? It knows when Papyrus is demanding a response, and that's what matters here.]

I hope it comes to you... if you've just forgotten it.

[ Petting the familiar makes her miss her own dog, but... she's gonna keep that tucked in her own pocket. No need to get sad to a complete stranger. ]

Speaking of names... I'm Mira.

[Maybe the familiar can detect her sadness, but if it does, it doesn't acknowledge that in any way but shifting to get her petting a better spot. Like scratching that ear. Yeah, that one.

Papyrus, for his part, just nods with exuberant politeness.]

Mira, huh? I'm Papyrus!

[If there's more to his name than that, he hasn't remembered that, either. Amnesia. So inconvenient. It leaves a skeleton slightly rattled over who he even is.]

So you can turn into a dog... What else can you do??

Are they? [Rose had been looking at the murals with some amount of itchy confusion--some of them were definitely familiar in some way she can't quite remember--and the suggestion that they're abilities is enough to get her to look at them again.] Do you remember these?

Edited (little bit of clarification) 2020-07-27 14:20 (UTC)

Mm... I've never seen them in drawings, but I remember what they're supposed to be. Or, some of them, at least.

[ She glances over. ]

Do you remember any of them at all?

I don't think saying I remember them is right. It's more like--with some of them, I almost remember that there's something I should remember. [Rose points to the druid skills, specifically to wild shape, but indicating the area in general.] There's something about these ones.

Oh--

[ She nods. Another druid, then? That's gotta be why they both feel a connection to them. Of course... that means she must not remember much, right? ]

For me, too. And these.

[ She gestures to the rogue skills. ]

[Rose follows Mira's gesture to the rogue skills.] I don't recognize these ones. Still, I wonder what these are here for. They couldn't be made just for us, right?

It... would be really strange if they were, wouldn't they?

[ Somewhat presumptuous, too. ]

If the people-- animals-- here can do those things, it would make sense, their being here.

Do you think they use them to teach each other like we're using them? [That sounds interesting! It's interesting how different species do things.]

Oh-- that might be it, actually.

[ She thinks on it for a moment. ]

I wonder if anyone would know for sure... but teaching would make a lot of sense.

There must be stories about the ruins, right? Everyone has stories about where they live. [She... Thinks? Admittedly, that's more of a feeling than anything.]

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prelude {{ Log 01.

mira delacroix | original | ota

wild shape

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ruins

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