awashlogs | Intro Log.

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Intro Log.

It's raining, it's pouring.
The old man is snoring.
He bumped his head and went to bed
And he couldn't get up in the morning.

ou wake in knee-deep water, cold as ice and stagnant, in a space that is far too echoey and spacious. It feels like a massive cave, but looking up... there's only one small, circular opening that shows grey sky and shines any sort of light.

It looks like a long trip upwards, a small cylinder with walls of brick that's just a little too high to reach, even when jumping. Getting out is probably going to be a bit of a task, especially considering the water is more than cold enough to make limbs go numb.

The dark makes it impossible to see much further, but the space seems large, all filled with water, but with no other way out, stone walls the only thing for an intrepid explorer to find. Oh, and to make things even better, it's raining today. Water from below (though thankfully only like, knee-deep), and water from above... how fun.

But most importantly of all... you're not alone.

Welcome to Awash's second intro log, everyone! Please review the FAQ and rules before playing. New characters have all woken at the bottom of the well in the middle of the town (which seems a lot bigger on the inside, somehow), and it looks like they'll have to put in some work to get out. Thankfully, they have some friends on the outside, this time.

Once out, they'll be free to explore the various locations the Town has to offer at will. Just try not to die on any of the far-too-rickety walkways.

Please feel free to ask any questions here and don't forget to greet your fellow players here!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

You get to be emperor. Don't tell me you'd trade all that power away for a chance to play tourist.

[This is not the right attitude to have if they're going to take over this town, Ling!! But okay, they're going into the house, just casually doing a B&E, it's all good.

It's all grey, actually. He doesn't like this half as much as his Ruga house, but it's not bad.]

Of course not, I just want a vacation every now and then.

[As emperor, he should be allowed both, so there. Ling wanders all around this quaint little house - the gray is much more offputting here than the other house, even if that one was only red in the bricks - and eventually he will stumble upon two (2) miraculous items:

another magic box, and

a change of clothes!! That are his! Great, because he's still cold and damp and it's getting to be a problem. He holds these up for Greed to see. Check it!!]

[The only reason he doesn't grab those for himself are because they're way too small for his current frame. The only reason! He wrinkles his nose, waving a hand-- go get changed, then-- and grabs for the magic box. It's time for role reversal! And maybe poking around on those forums a bit, with or without Ling.]

God, some of this text is blinding--

[Why is safety yellow a thing . . .]

[Let him learn to log in first, please, then he will go get changed. He realizes along the way that he has no idea how to do laundry... throw clothes in the canal and pray? He'll figure it out. When he returns he's tugging the sleeves straight on a shockingly familiar outfit, the only acceptable one worn by these combined idiots in history.

Notably it still has fucking sleeves, and no big-ass hole in the stomach. It's nostalgic—but when he looks at Greed in silence once he looks away from Ling's cool magic box, it should be obvious what he's thinking about. He hasn't stopped thinking about it since the well, but now it's even more... there.

Regardless, it's all he can do to hold his arms out a little at his sides, like, tada...? But a weak tada.]

[He wasn't exactly grinning before, but any semblance of happiness slides off his face as he takes in that outfit. Ling stares at him, and no, he's not crying, but this is almost worse. Greed doesn't know what to do with this kind of silence.]

Told you that you look good in that.

[Ah, fashion: how many hours did they spend bickering on what to wear? That's also an easy way to distract from the emotion of the moment.]

Don't look at me like that, come on.

[He could start crying again, that's well within the realm of possibility - he surely hasn't exhausted all of his emotions about the situation, but it comes and goes. Right now he's teetering on the edge of tearing up again, and it's a wonder he even got changed without stopping to wipe his nose on every sleeve he's got now - but he hasn't cried again yet.

At least these clothes are dry. That's something. He frowns, just so he's not looking at Greed Like That, for lack of a better expression--]

What did you do with my box thing?

[They're going to have to talk about this sooner or later, probably. It's not the kind of thing you can just sweep under the rug. But maybe you can, Greed thinks hopefully. Maybe you can just kind of ignore it until it goes away; until you're back to normal and things are just fine and nobody's upset at all and you don't have to justify your last act, which was to lie to a man in order to save him.]

Here.

[He shifts over on the couch, giving Ling some room to look. He's just nosing through old text posts, honestly.]

There's not a whole lot of interesting stuff here. A lot of gossip, maybe, but nothing important.

[Well, Ling could just keep looking at him in tragic silence every so often for the rest of their lives, that's an option. He knows he'll have to be the one to pry this conversation out of Greed sooner or later, but for now, in the interest of not weeping...

He comes over to sit on the couch, leaning his arm on Greed's shoulder to look at these exciting posts.]

Oh, it's in color. [neato] I wonder if someone has a shorter version...

[Because they should probably keep up to date, but also: reading.]

[He'll never say so, but there's something nice about the casual way Ling sits so close. It's comforting, and he leans into it, offering a better view of the box.]

It just looks like a bunch of people talking in different colors. Probably you can just ask someone if there's some important shit to catch up on, it'd be easier.

[It's without a second thought; what, genuinely, should stop him from getting close to Greed? They shared a whole body...!

As for this text... mmmmeh.]

I'll get to it. [Watch as he, with effort, figures out the correct sequence of clicking on stuff to open a new post just to hit a line of "gggggggggg" and hum, disappointed. No color... sad.]

Can't you write?

[He knows he can, he delivered a whole message once . . . but that was in Xingese, not . . . whatever the hell this is. Amestrian? Whatever. Except maybe the keyboard will adapt soon, who knows.]

[Wow... he wants to see what pretty color he got, don't insult him. Some of them are bilingual. Instead of actually answering he just gives Greed a look and types out a very important message into this text box:]

hello greed

[That said, he types this with one finger on one hand, and he's never seen a laptop keyboard in his life, so it takes... a while.]

Don't sass me.

[But he watches with mild interest as he types, and he reaches over to type something just beneath it.]

helo
hello
ling

[A pause, and then:]

What is it, Y-A-O?

[...Aw. He's doing his best and it's honestly endearing, even if Ling wasn't that much more competent with the keyboard a second ago, himself. Still!

He finally looks a little less dismal, after his weird mood about the clothes. Good job.]

With this alphabet, yes.

helo
hello
ling
yao

[So that sure is an open post with these two assholes typing hi to each other like they're not sitting next to each other. Thank god they won't hit post.

But good, that Ling looks a little less upset. It's encouraging, and so he nudges him with his elbow.]

So type it in Xingese.

[HOW??? figure it out.]

['Helo' is the best part, actually, he's loving it.

Wait a second, though-] I have no idea how to do that.

[Is it even possible???]

You cant't read it, anyway.

Yeah, but it's cool to see.

[He's easily amused. Lightly he prods at the keyboard, but somehow, no character keys appear. Weird!

Hmm. Now he wants this, and there's no writing, so . . . he offers his hand, palm up.]

Trace it there.

[A child. Ling shifts to slide one hand under Greed's to hold it still, drawing the characters for "hello greed" in quick succession using his fingertip. Did you catch that??

As an afterthought, he traces the character for "greed" again, more slowly.]

This one is you.

[Four characters, gurido, and he misses about half of it, but still he's stupidly pleased by it. Yes, that's his name right there, that's his Ling tracing out his name, it's the little things.]

Once more. I'll get it after that.

[Ling raises an eyebrow but traces it one more time all the same. Then, of course, he lets go of Greed's hand and drops his own hand palm up, wiggling his fingers expectantly.]

Show me.

[Isn't this better than crying? A thousand times better, frankly. He takes his hand carefully, steadying it with his left and bringing it closer to him. And he intends to trace out those symbols, he really does, but--

Well. Greed hesitates, just for a moment. It's just . . . it's so bizarre to look down at Ling's hand and know for a fact that it's not a part of him anymore. All those little lines and scars, the way his slender fingers curl slightly, the neat nails and long lifeline . . . he knows it so well, and yet he looks up and there Ling is, right next to him, solid and real and utterly accessible.

It's bizarre not to know every thought that passes through his head. It's bizarre to just look at him, and Greed does, drinking him in for a long moment.

But he's being stupid. With a scoff he turns back to his hand. His blunt nails slide against his palm quickly, one-two-three-four, and he gets the broad symbols right, even if he misses the accents. So really, he didn't spell it right at all, two symbols are entirely changed, but. Not bad.]

[It is better than crying, but the point isn't for Greed to start staring at Ling in silence now - not at all. Ling looks back at him, not crying, even trying to smile a little for a second, before it feels strained; this is better. It feels better even when it feels wrong somehow, to have to look over at Greed and talk to him to get his attention and exist, really— so many steps. They've been spoiled by convenience, all this time.

But there, the writing on his hand, and it's dreadful, and that's okay. Ling hums, like he's very impressed.]

Not bad! Not great, but not bad!

[It was atrocious.]

You'll get better with practice.

Like I'm gonna practice this.

[He can write his name! What else does he need! Honestly, if six months in Ling's body wasn't enough to get him to learn the language of the country he intended to take over, nothing will.

Still. He's very pleased with himself. Almost pleased enough to forget his earlier surprise, but not quite enough.]

What else are you going to do?

[Ling is already bored with the variety of fun stuff to do around here. Look at mystery boxes, eat gray food...? Study the well? Surely Greed will humor him writing lessons because he's bored, right? Right?]

[Draw him another picture? Come on, Ling, show off those princely artistry skills! But nah, that's a little dull, and truth be told, he's not exactly enthused about their current entertainment prospects either. So . . .

With a sigh, he offers his hand.]

Show me something else.

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