Johanthans hands clenched tight as he took a step forward. "So you think there's someone behind it as well... Good.... I'm, glad." Johnathan shook his head, brow furled in consternation "Sometimes I feel like the paranoia is eating me alive, making me see conspiracies in the shadows... I've not... I've never seen any proof of them. Not really." Johnathan continues, speaking almost to himself now "But, you think they are after us as well? Good... Good. We can't. We can't give them what they want can we? We shouldn't be fighting. As much as it wants to be one... We can't fight when they are around us. We need... I'm not sure what we need. We need to know the truth." Johanthan says as he takes a few more steps towards the man. "We can't fight now now. Right?" he asks, look less sure of himself with every step.
"We certainly can fight...but, we probably shouldn't. Not now. I mean, logically speaking...there's someone else in all of this. A three way fight still means only one person walks away, but the odds are better individually for you and me.
So...from a logical viewpoint...I don't want to fight you..." He says quietly.
"And if we're not going to tear each other to pieces, I suppose you have some sort of plan?
...Oh, and...the note? I guess it was sort of a...joke." He hands it to you. A fairly unsteady hand composed the note in rich black ink.
You don't know who I am, but I know you. Just relax! This will all be over in week.
In the meantime, why don't you remember who you really are?
~MP.
Star finally settles on commandeering a vehicle. They probably have some of those lying around, right? She hopes so. It's going to be a long run otherwise.
Indeed, there's more than a few vehicles at hand, without immediate owners.
~A bicycle parked up against a nearby wall. Cheap and only as fast as your legs can move, but quiet and nimble. Probably owned by a adolescent humanoid buying cold, sugar laced treats inside the store.
~A cart-o-mobile, suitable for two persons-one to drive, one to ride. It looks quite fast-you don't know anything about 'cars', but the smooth lines and red stripes indicate it was built for speed! You notice the young woman was driving it park, and run into Wymond Ledfords antique shop, and she hasn't come out yet.
~A van-o-trucker. You think it's carrying 'milk'-a sort of human refreshment made from squeezing...well nevermind...it's not going to be very fast, but it is heavy and you could potentially carry a whole group of sapients inside, not to mention keep them safe from bullets with it's reinforced metal walls.
Hmm, what's a bit of larceny in the service of the greater good...
Aurora considered going down. It did seem a compelling argument. But then she considered, if they simply wanted to take her to get help, violence would not be their first resort as it had been. From a purely logical standpoint, they were spouting bullshit. They might have convinced her if they hadn't A: Attacked her friend, and B: Broken into her friend's house. But seeing as they had...
"Come up here and say it to my face, and then I might believe you. I won't shoot." As if. She was telling the truth about not shooting, but had no intention of going with them. She quietly opened the window, and got ready to turn into light form and escape once they were upstairs, but not in shooting range.
"Fair enough."One of the Garbagemen (the 'leader') slowly mounts the stairs, at least visibly unarmed, though he doesn't putting his hands up. He gives you a bland look.
He speaks first, seeming to notice a look about you.
"Well, I guess they mucked everything up again. You're not responding to the programming anymore, are you...
I suppose this is where you ask me to tell you everything I know, what's going on, where are we, who am I, who are you? I've answered the question often enough before...even answered it to you, a few times...neither one of us can budge, however, and it always ends the same way...
I want to ask you a question, before we start, though-why do you persist as if the illusion you think this all is, is wrong? Why aren't you happy? You have everything you could want here. We make sure of that. You really want to wake up from all this?"He seems genuinely interested in an answer.
"First of all, do any of me know where we are? Beyond 'in a tree', of course."
A nerdy looking Elysia speaks up, pushing her square glasses up with her thumb.
"There is a high probability of the happening therein we have entered a temporal fistula, pursuance of our unwise decision to buck the transportation vortice due to our innate youthful arrogance-since two beings cannot, by natural and dimensional laws, operate the same time/space constraints at any one time without massive trauma (both physical, spiritual and pan-dimensional), we were shunted as a whole to a sidereal reality, particularly one wherein no Elysia has ever or will ever exist-such a reality would be the only place we could end up safely...it's entirely possible many infinitudes of Elysia's just died, or worse, by congealing into fleshy masses upon other worlds...but, that's pure speculation on my part." She concludes.
Author
Topic: The Second Son (IC thread) (Issue #1: Farfield, Page 2: Kleptomania ) (Read 9462 times)