Print

Please login or register.
1 Hour 1 Day 1 Week 1 Month Forever
Login with username, password and session length

[filiusenox]

   Wasteland stretches out to the horizon. Grey stone, rippled by the wind, lays in a featureless plane beneath your feet, a blank expanse. There's nothing close by, the stone beneath your feet the only feature. Sunlight reflects in places, producing radiant rainbows, vibrant greens, reds-oranges, blues, every color in the spectrum but they flash away fleetingly, only appearing as a quirk of the eye.

A few pebbles lay close by, made of a grey stone.

[Generally me]

Eat pebbles

[filiusenox]

You eat the pebbles in a complex, endomaterial reaction that leaves the pebbles exactly where they were, because only dumb people eat pebbles and you pride yourself in not being dumb.

[Lyeos]

Pick up a few stones, then spin around a bit and set out in the direction we end up facing.

[Audioworm333]

Then attempt to harness the power of the pebbles to grow wings and fly.

[tntey]

Kick ass
Go to space
REPRESENT THE HUMAN RACE!

Our goal

[pisskop]

Head away from the Sun.  *Also examine a pebble

[filiusenox]

You twirl gracefully and fall on your ass. Taking the time, you pick the pebbles up and pull yourself up, setting off in a random direction. Nothing better to do. You trail towards a flash of red that lingers, hangs heavy in the sky-- and the grey stone gives way to unkempt green grass, until you're standing within a garden.
   The beds of carrots and potatoes are neatly arranged between black, smooth stone. Food grows meekly from the earth, braving the warm sun near fallow fields overgrown with brush and bracken. Bean vines climb the fence.
   A small house, grey with decay, leans at an angle over roses, over orchid and mistletoe. A man emerges, serious and grim as you approach.
   “Where have you been?”

A grim, serious man with a goatee lingers on a porch of river stone.

[Lyeos]

Point toward the badlands. Lets go with "Heroic Mime" kind of thing.

+1

+1

Fine, but we have to take the Mime class.

But also Check memory banks for details about man.

[Stirk]

Point toward the badlands. Lets go with "Heroic Mime" kind of thing.

[Audioworm333]

Point toward the badlands. Lets go with "Heroic Mime" kind of thing.

+1

[filiusenox]

   Turning, you point out towards the way you came, the way you went. A house lies across asphalt, falling into disrepair, ivy consuming it bit by bit. Beyond that is a fallow field, turned over to dirt. The man glances that direction, his face keeping that grim look, even as you make sure not to point directly at the house-- just to the right.

   "You always wander off when I need you to help me." He mumbles, turning to head back inside, "Come in, dinner is ready." His tone books no argument, no question, and you follow him into your home. It's quaint, cozy-- packed with various things that couldn't be left outside in the rain or weather.

   The man is your elder brother, the keeper of your house. Probably the rightful owner, considering all the work he put into it, his age, all the care he took. But despite his work, it still crumbles-- something to ponder, as you devour your stew with him and his wife at a round, crooked table that wobbles with any weight set upon it.

Night falls, and bed time follows. You bathe, following your nightly rituals, and crawl into your cot in the living room. Your brother and his wife-- well. You slip out when the noise becomes unbearable in the silent house.

        The moon hangs heavy, framed by stars and inky sky. Stars riddle it, and no longer can you see the colors radiating outward. Its tranquil, and you feel something stir in your bones. This part of the story doesn't have a happy end, doesn't have the decay abated by heroism and happiness.
You should leave.

[Lyeos]

Into the other house! For supplies and earplugs!