I did this waaay back when on another site I can't remember the name of;
Roll one die with the same amount of sides corresponding to the number of public characters you have.
Then type out a paragraph or more to describe what the first interaction between you as creator and the character chosen by the die would be like! Either in a narrative third point of view, or in first person.
I expect chaos and mayhem.
Roll one die with the same amount of sides corresponding to the number of public characters you have.
Then type out a paragraph or more to describe what the first interaction between you as creator and the character chosen by the die would be like! Either in a narrative third point of view, or in first person.
I expect chaos and mayhem.
The enormous half-orc stared down and the little pink man, while the little pink man stared up at the enormous half-orc. The man knew who she was, of course. He'd made her, nurtured her, brought her to life on page and in his mind. She, on the other hand, was staring at him like someone whose head she was literally about to twist from his body. Blinking owlishly, the man's face reflected both panic and pure confusion before he finally hit upon something that could make everybody happy. "...Beer?"
Instantly the half-orc's face melted from anger to relaxation, her gaze softening and her eyes darting off elsewhere to only settle upon his face for seconds at a time. "Yes. Please beer. Beer make happy."
Grinning, the man led the way, already warming up to a the subject. "You're gonna learn a lot, there's a whole bunch of stuff you might not have heard of. We've got stouts, lagers, pilsners, IPAs, pale ales, reds, browns, bitters..."
Instantly the half-orc's face melted from anger to relaxation, her gaze softening and her eyes darting off elsewhere to only settle upon his face for seconds at a time. "Yes. Please beer. Beer make happy."
Grinning, the man led the way, already warming up to a the subject. "You're gonna learn a lot, there's a whole bunch of stuff you might not have heard of. We've got stouts, lagers, pilsners, IPAs, pale ales, reds, browns, bitters..."
rolled 1d6 and got 3
6 is re-roll
Special Agent Royanna Kallenger stood outside the truck stop, just outside the glass front doors, scanning the immediate area with a narrow-eyed grimace of utter revulsion. Roy didn’t mind the seedy underbellies of great cities. She didn’t even mind seedy bars. But this place, sitting as the only actual permanent structure for some hundred miles in either direction, did not appeal to her - not the least because she didn’t have a ride. Why did these things keep happening to her?
Taxis and buses didn’t run anywhere near so far out into the Endless Corn Seas. Her comms had no signal. She was, to put it eloquently, @#$%ed. She was going to need to hitch a ride.
Steeling herself with a deep sigh, Roy stepped forth to begin her search in earnest.
Immediately, her senses were assaulted with the toxic stnk of cigarettes, the slimy tang of grease, and just a hint of BO. The radio, fizzling and crackling as if using tin cans for speakers, was droning some kind of awful twangy thing that she supposed was the local taste in music. As best she could surmise, the topic of the song seemed to be ‘beer’. Scanning the interior of the place, it looked more or less like any gas station that had not been renovated for at least sixty years. Rather than giving the place a charming, old-timey look, it just looked old, dusty and run down. The woman behind the counter appeared to be at least eight hundred years old, and was croaking something to a customer who looked like his teeth - or what was left of them - had seen better days.
Hands in pockets and looking perfectly out-of-place in her business-casual and black trench coat, Roy stepped aside as a man wearing a gigantic white cowboy hat brushed by her as though he were very important. On the edge of a hallway toward the back, an old man wearing a shirt with ”God made guns for a reason” printed on it was berating a member of the cleaning staff because the water in the shower was somehow not good enough, and why couldn’t the sixteen-year-old with a mop and bucket make it better?
Roy’s scowl deepened. This was not going to be easy. There did, however, appear to be a diner attached to the place, and so she made her way there as a last resort. The chipper blonde behind the counter squawked something at Roy, but she just waved a dismissive hand and stood in the threshold, carefully scanning the diner’s current patrons in hopes of finding someone she deemed worthy of giving her a ride. The stools lined up at the counter were all occupied, and almost exclusively by obese old men in various states of dishevelment. Some were complaining about the food. Some were talking about building a wall. Others were talking about Jews, and one guy was talking to himself about Space-knew-what.
Roy knew objectively that not all truck drivers were like this. The problem was that only a certain type of driver usually frequented these old relics of the bygone ‘golden age’ of trucking.
Just as she was about to give up hope completely and just go steal a truck, Roy glanced to the booths where, much to her surprise, someone who clearly did not belong here. Probably he had been very desperate, and this was the only place for hundreds of miles.
The man looked to be two years younger than herself, at an estimate. He was tall, of an average weight, and would have been a good candidate for ’Most Generic Human’ if not for his excessively long hair. He sat alone at a booth, scrolling through something on his hand-comm (Why did nobody on this planet use wrist-comms?) and appeared to be nearly finished with his food.
It wasn't much, but it was the best she was going to get.
Like all social interactions, this was going to be a matter of tact and discretion. She would need to approach this facet of her mission with careful strategy. As such, she decided to stand just outside the threshold of the diner and observe him until he left, and then confront him outside when he was alone.
Nobody bothered Royanna as she peered stealthily around the wall to watch him, attempting to gather data that might assist her in the acquisition of transport without having to get the local law involved. He seemed reasonably sociable, but not overly so. Fingers danced on her wristcomm as she tried to mirror his handcomm to see what he was reading but the devices were Incompatible.
He stood and gave the waitress a cursory wave, while Royanna slipped into the isles and out the back door, which opened up onto the truck lot, There were dozens of them lined up back there, and for some reason the whole place smelled like an oil refinery.
Agent Kallenger walked away from the door and waited in the shadow of the building, and sure enough the tall man exited shortly thereafter, making for where the vehicles were parked. Given that the lot was wide open with almost no places for cover, she decided to follow him at a good distance, switching to a silent sprint as he went between two of the bulky machines, aiming for the back row. Now was her chance. Stepping between the parked trucks, the effect was that of a very narrow corridor. She could see the second row, lined up backwards against the first. She waited until he was at the midpoint before getting his attention.
"You there! Truck driver!” She barked, and the man froze in his tracks, turning about to see if it was in fact him that the voice had called out to. Given that the Agent was the only person nearby, he quickly surmised that she was the one who wanted his attention.
As Roy walked forward, hands in pockets (Because that was the most non threatening way to walk, she knew) the driver’s greyish eyes took on a glint of recognition. His brow furrowed, he looked just a little bit nervous, pointing to himself as if to say ”Me?”
”Yes, you. I am in need of assistance.” Roy announced, having learned recently that looking for help under false pretenses was really a terrible idea. He was about to speak when the spark of recognition became a nova. The man blanched, eyes widening in a rictus of confusion, incredulity and downright terror. Sensing some apprehension on his part, Roy stopped several feet from him, rather than getting up in his face as she’d planned. Besides, he was taller than her, and Roy didn’t like that.
A moment of silence passed between the two, emerald eyes sharper than mithril daggers boring into his own with frightening intensity. When she could take the silence no longer, Roy barked impatiently ”Did you not hear me? I Said I am in need of assistance, and you are going to be the one to provide it.”
The man blinked and, stupidly, pointed to himself again, as if still uncertain on whether she was really referring to him - as if there was anyone else even remotely nearby she could be speaking to.
”Yes, you!” Royanna barked, her impatience multiplying by scores with each passing second that the man gaped at her in that incredulous dread. After what seemed like a very long time to both of them, the guy managed to actually make a sound, which consisted of ”Uh, you’re - is...I, um…What-” before going silent again. Roy was beginning to think the guy was afraid of her, but it was the sort of fear usually reserved for those who already knew about her combat abilities and lack of mercy - and she was quite certain that this weirder-than-he-looked, more or less spineless truck driver had no reason to know anything about her.
He kept glancing to her left cheek, where the parallel scars ran - and for the first time in a long while she found herself feeling self conscious about them. Purely coincidence, the two of them scratched at their left cheeks at exactly the same time, though neither seemed to notice.
Roy sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, then, looking back up to him, stepped closer and spoke very slowly, enunciating clearly, so there was no chance of the fool not hearing her properly.
”I am Special Agent Royanna Kallenger. I am in need of transportation, and you are going to provide it for me.” She said, with a condescending expression as she nodded slowly, willing him to just agree and get on with it. Instead, much to her frustration, the guy’s fear only seemed to double when he heard her name. Maybe he did know her somehow? She would have to ask him - assuming she didn’t just kill him and take his truck.
Just as she was about to speak again, the idiot actually did something, but Roy’s patience was again tested as he half-raised a hand, cocked it in a half-wave and said, looking bewildered and terrified ”...Uh...H-hi…?”
At this point, Roy was beginning to wonder if maybe the fat one talking about Jews might have been a better option. But she was in it now, and would have to see it through.
”...Hello.” She growled in a poor attempt at placation, after a long moment spent cooling her temper. She had a little bit of a moral compass, and would only kill the guy if she needed to - but first she would have to get it through his apparently thick skull what she telling him.
Also, she realized suddenly, she did not actually know how to pilot these machines. So keeping him alive would make her life easier down the road. Seriously? A pun? Now? She would have to led the idiot driver figure it out at his own slug-like pace.
”You’re…YOU are Special Agent Royanna Sparrowhawk Kallenger…?” He said, pointing gingerly and vaguely in her direction. Glaring him down with a withering look she replied pointedly ”Yes.”
”And you need a ride...from me?”
”YES.”
Suddenly the man looked like he was questioning his own sanity, though Roy could not put her finger on exactly why she thought that. He had a vaguely dreamlike quality in his eyes all of a sudden.
”I, uh...I can’t, s-sorry.” He said a long moment later, and Roy’s emerald eyes lit up with an inner fire. ”Excuse me?” She said, making it a statement more than anything. The man, whose mouth had gone quite dry and whose color had not returned, said again, in a barely audible mutter ”I, uh, I can’t-”
”Why not.”
”Because….uh….I just can’t…?” He seemed to have some idea as to the hole he was digging himself into. Roy gave an irritable sigh, rubbed her eye again, and decided the pleasantries were over. Like lightning, she stepped forward, grabbing the driver by the collar of his tee shirt, whirling him around and slamming him roughly up against the trailer wall beside them. Her being smaller than he was proved to be no challenge as she yanked him a couple inches down to her level, getting right up in his face, eyes blazing. ”Listen mother@#$%er-” She growled, but the guy was even easier to break than she’d expected.
”Okay! Okay yeah totally can! No problem at all!” He vocalized in an airy yelp, squirming within her grip. For good measure, Roy held him pinned there for a few long seconds, narrowing her eyes to scrutinize him and make sure the point had been driven home.
”Try anything stupid and you’ll regret it.” She said surprisingly casually, before twisting and shoving him down the path, watching him stumble and right himself with cooling eyes. ”It’s, uh, it’s over this way.” He said, head low as he walked down the aisle as if being tailed. Which he sort of was, she supposed.
Once back in the open, Roy quickened her step to walk beside him. ”We...won’t be able to leave right away.” The guy said hesitantly, not looking at her and actually leaning away from her slightly as they walked. ”I can wait. Why not?”
”Uh, r-regulations. It’ll be like an hour-”
”What, your government tells you when you can drive?” She interrupted with disapproval. It seemed to help loosen the guy up, if only a little. Happy accidents.
”Kinda?”
”That’s stupid.”
”Y-yup.”
The silence that fell over them as they walked the rest of the way was fantastically awkward. Finally, coming to a droopy-nosed white truck recessed between two slightly larger ones, the driver stopped. ”It’s, uh, this one.” He said awkwardly, gesturing toward it weakly.
”I sort of assumed as much, since you stopped in front of it.”
”Yeah that...that makes sense doesn't it..”
”Yes it does."
Another awkward silence, which the Agent decided to break by hopping up the steps to peer through the window, not bothering to ask for permission and not getting scolded, obviously. Turning to look down at him with one raised brow she asked skeptically ”You live in this thing?”
At that, the guy bristled. Roy was almost happy to see it, if it meant the skittishness waning some. ”Most days, yeah. Why? What’s wrong with it?”
”It’s too small.”
”Yeah, I don’t really need much space.”
Another awkward silence. Usually Roy would have been happy with that, except that this guy’s awkwardness was so overwhelming that it was actually rubbing off on her. He was nervously picking at his fingernails the incessant sound of which made Roy want to eviscerate him.
”Could you stop that?” She demanded testily when she could take no more. The driver just muttered ”Sorry” and slapped his hands hastily to his sides.
More awkward silence.
”Well it’s certainly an...interesting machine.” She offered, just to break the silence. ”What kind of reactor does it have?”
”It’s, uh, diesel.”
”...What, you mean like fossil fuels?”
”Uh huh.”
”Seriously?”
”Yup.”
”Well that explains the smell at least.”
More awkward silence.
To Roy’s discomfort, she realized the guy was sidling closer to her. Instinctively she leaned away, but he kept doing it. Closer. Closer. Too close.
”What are you doing.”
Fretting visibly, the guy took a step away and pinched the bridge of his nose in a disturbingly familiar gesture. ”Okay, look, this is gonna’ sound super weird but...You’re really here, right? I’m not just losing my mind?”
The look on Roy’s face became that of an incredulity the depths of which no other could hope to achieve. ”Wh...What? Why wouldn’t I be?” She asked, the same incredulity seeping from her voice like something that seeped a lot.
”It, it’s hard to explain, I know it sounds crazy but can I just-” He held up an index finger, pointing at her shoulder.
”Don’t touch me.”
Immediately abashed, the driver put his hands back to his sides. ”Yeah sorry.”
”Stop apologizing.”
”So-”
Roy whirled on him, her withering glare seeming to dry up his very soul. ”What is wrong with you.” She demanded, almost profoundly.
”Well, it’s just that I know you can murder me in like eight thousand ways-”
Again, Roy cocked a brow.
”Just a hunch?”
Again, Roy softened marginally, crossing her arms impatiently. ”So, are we going to actually get in the truck, or…?”
The guy squirmed. ”Uh, yeah..?”
”When.”
”.......Ssssooooooon...ish?”
With a huff, Royanna shook her head, deciding to be extra sure and really drive the point home. She was also finding that, for some reason, she was filled with a rather fierce urge to hurt this guy, and it didn’t feel like it was only because he was annoying and squirmy.
Then it hit her. Roy's blood ran cold.
Whirling on him again, the shock and fear in him was immediate. ”W-what’d I do!” He wailed helplessly, taking an unsteady step back as Roy took a firm step forward. ”How the @#$% do you know my middle name.”
Roy was amazed to see that he could actually get paler. "Uh...w-whassa't now?" He squeaked, shakily.
Again, like lightning, Roy was on him, grabbing him by the shirt and this time pulling him in close. Teeth gritted, in a voice as dark as inky shadows she growled How...The @#$%...Do you know...My middle name."
"G-good...good guess~?"
"Wrong answer." Roy growled as she shoved him away, making him stumble backwards and just barely keep from falling on his ass.
”Nobody, nobody knows my middle name." She said, a dark shadow of sadistic rage falling over her bright eyes as she stepped in closer once more, as he stumbled backwards in gradually multiplying dread. "I-I don't think you'd believe me if I told you~!" He insisted weakly, but desperately, holding up his hands in a placating gesture of surrender that made Roy want to punch him in the nose.
"Try me." She snapped, continuing to force him back until they were behind the trailer, where the pavement ended and the infinite corn began. Plenty of privacy.
"I really don't think you'll believe me!" He insisted more frantically as Roy cracked her knuckles.
And, as it happened, she didn't believe him.
It was going to be a long day...
Taxis and buses didn’t run anywhere near so far out into the Endless Corn Seas. Her comms had no signal. She was, to put it eloquently, @#$%ed. She was going to need to hitch a ride.
Steeling herself with a deep sigh, Roy stepped forth to begin her search in earnest.
Immediately, her senses were assaulted with the toxic stnk of cigarettes, the slimy tang of grease, and just a hint of BO. The radio, fizzling and crackling as if using tin cans for speakers, was droning some kind of awful twangy thing that she supposed was the local taste in music. As best she could surmise, the topic of the song seemed to be ‘beer’. Scanning the interior of the place, it looked more or less like any gas station that had not been renovated for at least sixty years. Rather than giving the place a charming, old-timey look, it just looked old, dusty and run down. The woman behind the counter appeared to be at least eight hundred years old, and was croaking something to a customer who looked like his teeth - or what was left of them - had seen better days.
Hands in pockets and looking perfectly out-of-place in her business-casual and black trench coat, Roy stepped aside as a man wearing a gigantic white cowboy hat brushed by her as though he were very important. On the edge of a hallway toward the back, an old man wearing a shirt with ”God made guns for a reason” printed on it was berating a member of the cleaning staff because the water in the shower was somehow not good enough, and why couldn’t the sixteen-year-old with a mop and bucket make it better?
Roy’s scowl deepened. This was not going to be easy. There did, however, appear to be a diner attached to the place, and so she made her way there as a last resort. The chipper blonde behind the counter squawked something at Roy, but she just waved a dismissive hand and stood in the threshold, carefully scanning the diner’s current patrons in hopes of finding someone she deemed worthy of giving her a ride. The stools lined up at the counter were all occupied, and almost exclusively by obese old men in various states of dishevelment. Some were complaining about the food. Some were talking about building a wall. Others were talking about Jews, and one guy was talking to himself about Space-knew-what.
Roy knew objectively that not all truck drivers were like this. The problem was that only a certain type of driver usually frequented these old relics of the bygone ‘golden age’ of trucking.
Just as she was about to give up hope completely and just go steal a truck, Roy glanced to the booths where, much to her surprise, someone who clearly did not belong here. Probably he had been very desperate, and this was the only place for hundreds of miles.
The man looked to be two years younger than herself, at an estimate. He was tall, of an average weight, and would have been a good candidate for ’Most Generic Human’ if not for his excessively long hair. He sat alone at a booth, scrolling through something on his hand-comm (Why did nobody on this planet use wrist-comms?) and appeared to be nearly finished with his food.
It wasn't much, but it was the best she was going to get.
Like all social interactions, this was going to be a matter of tact and discretion. She would need to approach this facet of her mission with careful strategy. As such, she decided to stand just outside the threshold of the diner and observe him until he left, and then confront him outside when he was alone.
Nobody bothered Royanna as she peered stealthily around the wall to watch him, attempting to gather data that might assist her in the acquisition of transport without having to get the local law involved. He seemed reasonably sociable, but not overly so. Fingers danced on her wristcomm as she tried to mirror his handcomm to see what he was reading but the devices were Incompatible.
He stood and gave the waitress a cursory wave, while Royanna slipped into the isles and out the back door, which opened up onto the truck lot, There were dozens of them lined up back there, and for some reason the whole place smelled like an oil refinery.
Agent Kallenger walked away from the door and waited in the shadow of the building, and sure enough the tall man exited shortly thereafter, making for where the vehicles were parked. Given that the lot was wide open with almost no places for cover, she decided to follow him at a good distance, switching to a silent sprint as he went between two of the bulky machines, aiming for the back row. Now was her chance. Stepping between the parked trucks, the effect was that of a very narrow corridor. She could see the second row, lined up backwards against the first. She waited until he was at the midpoint before getting his attention.
"You there! Truck driver!” She barked, and the man froze in his tracks, turning about to see if it was in fact him that the voice had called out to. Given that the Agent was the only person nearby, he quickly surmised that she was the one who wanted his attention.
As Roy walked forward, hands in pockets (Because that was the most non threatening way to walk, she knew) the driver’s greyish eyes took on a glint of recognition. His brow furrowed, he looked just a little bit nervous, pointing to himself as if to say ”Me?”
”Yes, you. I am in need of assistance.” Roy announced, having learned recently that looking for help under false pretenses was really a terrible idea. He was about to speak when the spark of recognition became a nova. The man blanched, eyes widening in a rictus of confusion, incredulity and downright terror. Sensing some apprehension on his part, Roy stopped several feet from him, rather than getting up in his face as she’d planned. Besides, he was taller than her, and Roy didn’t like that.
A moment of silence passed between the two, emerald eyes sharper than mithril daggers boring into his own with frightening intensity. When she could take the silence no longer, Roy barked impatiently ”Did you not hear me? I Said I am in need of assistance, and you are going to be the one to provide it.”
The man blinked and, stupidly, pointed to himself again, as if still uncertain on whether she was really referring to him - as if there was anyone else even remotely nearby she could be speaking to.
”Yes, you!” Royanna barked, her impatience multiplying by scores with each passing second that the man gaped at her in that incredulous dread. After what seemed like a very long time to both of them, the guy managed to actually make a sound, which consisted of ”Uh, you’re - is...I, um…What-” before going silent again. Roy was beginning to think the guy was afraid of her, but it was the sort of fear usually reserved for those who already knew about her combat abilities and lack of mercy - and she was quite certain that this weirder-than-he-looked, more or less spineless truck driver had no reason to know anything about her.
He kept glancing to her left cheek, where the parallel scars ran - and for the first time in a long while she found herself feeling self conscious about them. Purely coincidence, the two of them scratched at their left cheeks at exactly the same time, though neither seemed to notice.
Roy sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, then, looking back up to him, stepped closer and spoke very slowly, enunciating clearly, so there was no chance of the fool not hearing her properly.
”I am Special Agent Royanna Kallenger. I am in need of transportation, and you are going to provide it for me.” She said, with a condescending expression as she nodded slowly, willing him to just agree and get on with it. Instead, much to her frustration, the guy’s fear only seemed to double when he heard her name. Maybe he did know her somehow? She would have to ask him - assuming she didn’t just kill him and take his truck.
Just as she was about to speak again, the idiot actually did something, but Roy’s patience was again tested as he half-raised a hand, cocked it in a half-wave and said, looking bewildered and terrified ”...Uh...H-hi…?”
At this point, Roy was beginning to wonder if maybe the fat one talking about Jews might have been a better option. But she was in it now, and would have to see it through.
”...Hello.” She growled in a poor attempt at placation, after a long moment spent cooling her temper. She had a little bit of a moral compass, and would only kill the guy if she needed to - but first she would have to get it through his apparently thick skull what she telling him.
Also, she realized suddenly, she did not actually know how to pilot these machines. So keeping him alive would make her life easier down the road. Seriously? A pun? Now? She would have to led the idiot driver figure it out at his own slug-like pace.
”You’re…YOU are Special Agent Royanna Sparrowhawk Kallenger…?” He said, pointing gingerly and vaguely in her direction. Glaring him down with a withering look she replied pointedly ”Yes.”
”And you need a ride...from me?”
”YES.”
Suddenly the man looked like he was questioning his own sanity, though Roy could not put her finger on exactly why she thought that. He had a vaguely dreamlike quality in his eyes all of a sudden.
”I, uh...I can’t, s-sorry.” He said a long moment later, and Roy’s emerald eyes lit up with an inner fire. ”Excuse me?” She said, making it a statement more than anything. The man, whose mouth had gone quite dry and whose color had not returned, said again, in a barely audible mutter ”I, uh, I can’t-”
”Why not.”
”Because….uh….I just can’t…?” He seemed to have some idea as to the hole he was digging himself into. Roy gave an irritable sigh, rubbed her eye again, and decided the pleasantries were over. Like lightning, she stepped forward, grabbing the driver by the collar of his tee shirt, whirling him around and slamming him roughly up against the trailer wall beside them. Her being smaller than he was proved to be no challenge as she yanked him a couple inches down to her level, getting right up in his face, eyes blazing. ”Listen mother@#$%er-” She growled, but the guy was even easier to break than she’d expected.
”Okay! Okay yeah totally can! No problem at all!” He vocalized in an airy yelp, squirming within her grip. For good measure, Roy held him pinned there for a few long seconds, narrowing her eyes to scrutinize him and make sure the point had been driven home.
”Try anything stupid and you’ll regret it.” She said surprisingly casually, before twisting and shoving him down the path, watching him stumble and right himself with cooling eyes. ”It’s, uh, it’s over this way.” He said, head low as he walked down the aisle as if being tailed. Which he sort of was, she supposed.
Once back in the open, Roy quickened her step to walk beside him. ”We...won’t be able to leave right away.” The guy said hesitantly, not looking at her and actually leaning away from her slightly as they walked. ”I can wait. Why not?”
”Uh, r-regulations. It’ll be like an hour-”
”What, your government tells you when you can drive?” She interrupted with disapproval. It seemed to help loosen the guy up, if only a little. Happy accidents.
”Kinda?”
”That’s stupid.”
”Y-yup.”
The silence that fell over them as they walked the rest of the way was fantastically awkward. Finally, coming to a droopy-nosed white truck recessed between two slightly larger ones, the driver stopped. ”It’s, uh, this one.” He said awkwardly, gesturing toward it weakly.
”I sort of assumed as much, since you stopped in front of it.”
”Yeah that...that makes sense doesn't it..”
”Yes it does."
Another awkward silence, which the Agent decided to break by hopping up the steps to peer through the window, not bothering to ask for permission and not getting scolded, obviously. Turning to look down at him with one raised brow she asked skeptically ”You live in this thing?”
At that, the guy bristled. Roy was almost happy to see it, if it meant the skittishness waning some. ”Most days, yeah. Why? What’s wrong with it?”
”It’s too small.”
”Yeah, I don’t really need much space.”
Another awkward silence. Usually Roy would have been happy with that, except that this guy’s awkwardness was so overwhelming that it was actually rubbing off on her. He was nervously picking at his fingernails the incessant sound of which made Roy want to eviscerate him.
”Could you stop that?” She demanded testily when she could take no more. The driver just muttered ”Sorry” and slapped his hands hastily to his sides.
More awkward silence.
”Well it’s certainly an...interesting machine.” She offered, just to break the silence. ”What kind of reactor does it have?”
”It’s, uh, diesel.”
”...What, you mean like fossil fuels?”
”Uh huh.”
”Seriously?”
”Yup.”
”Well that explains the smell at least.”
More awkward silence.
To Roy’s discomfort, she realized the guy was sidling closer to her. Instinctively she leaned away, but he kept doing it. Closer. Closer. Too close.
”What are you doing.”
Fretting visibly, the guy took a step away and pinched the bridge of his nose in a disturbingly familiar gesture. ”Okay, look, this is gonna’ sound super weird but...You’re really here, right? I’m not just losing my mind?”
The look on Roy’s face became that of an incredulity the depths of which no other could hope to achieve. ”Wh...What? Why wouldn’t I be?” She asked, the same incredulity seeping from her voice like something that seeped a lot.
”It, it’s hard to explain, I know it sounds crazy but can I just-” He held up an index finger, pointing at her shoulder.
”Don’t touch me.”
Immediately abashed, the driver put his hands back to his sides. ”Yeah sorry.”
”Stop apologizing.”
”So-”
Roy whirled on him, her withering glare seeming to dry up his very soul. ”What is wrong with you.” She demanded, almost profoundly.
”Well, it’s just that I know you can murder me in like eight thousand ways-”
Again, Roy cocked a brow.
”Just a hunch?”
Again, Roy softened marginally, crossing her arms impatiently. ”So, are we going to actually get in the truck, or…?”
The guy squirmed. ”Uh, yeah..?”
”When.”
”.......Ssssooooooon...ish?”
With a huff, Royanna shook her head, deciding to be extra sure and really drive the point home. She was also finding that, for some reason, she was filled with a rather fierce urge to hurt this guy, and it didn’t feel like it was only because he was annoying and squirmy.
Then it hit her. Roy's blood ran cold.
Whirling on him again, the shock and fear in him was immediate. ”W-what’d I do!” He wailed helplessly, taking an unsteady step back as Roy took a firm step forward. ”How the @#$% do you know my middle name.”
Roy was amazed to see that he could actually get paler. "Uh...w-whassa't now?" He squeaked, shakily.
Again, like lightning, Roy was on him, grabbing him by the shirt and this time pulling him in close. Teeth gritted, in a voice as dark as inky shadows she growled How...The @#$%...Do you know...My middle name."
"G-good...good guess~?"
"Wrong answer." Roy growled as she shoved him away, making him stumble backwards and just barely keep from falling on his ass.
”Nobody, nobody knows my middle name." She said, a dark shadow of sadistic rage falling over her bright eyes as she stepped in closer once more, as he stumbled backwards in gradually multiplying dread. "I-I don't think you'd believe me if I told you~!" He insisted weakly, but desperately, holding up his hands in a placating gesture of surrender that made Roy want to punch him in the nose.
"Try me." She snapped, continuing to force him back until they were behind the trailer, where the pavement ended and the infinite corn began. Plenty of privacy.
"I really don't think you'll believe me!" He insisted more frantically as Roy cracked her knuckles.
And, as it happened, she didn't believe him.
It was going to be a long day...
rolled 1d6 and got 5
The beautiful red headed woman dragged her flashing sapphire eyes up and down and back up again. This dumpy, frumpy four eyed couch potato was her creator? Her god? Well, goddess. "Hmph. I thought man was supposed to be created in god's image? Not much resemblance, is there?"
Dndmama wrung her hands self consciously beside the noted beauty. She knew she couldn't compare with her short sheared brown locks and her thick glasses and really any other notable physical feature she might possess, but Neriah didn't need to make her feel it so keenly. After all, wasn't she always getting on other people's cases about treating her differently due to the way she looked? Hey...yea... The flesh and blood woman took a deep breath and met Neriah's gaze stubborn for stubborn. "Okay, no. You do not get to be a judgmental witch to me just because I'm not some hip swaying, man killing super model. In fact, you know what? You decide you have any more snarky comments to make about my looks and I'm giving you an obsession with Nickleback. Got it?"
Neriah's eyes narrowed for a moment before one side of her mouth tilted upwards in a grudging smirk. "Fair enough. So, what was it you wanted to talk about anyways?"
The shorter woman simply blinked for a moment, honestly at a loss as to what to say to one of her most beloved and developed characters after all these years. Considering all the losses Neriah has endured, the battles she's fought, and all the varied adventures she's set out upon, the ups and downs, the hardships, the losses, the heart break and the victories, how could she help this woman understand the truth of her existence? "I guess...I just wanted to say thank you. Thank you for giving all my anger a voice when I can't express it myself. Thank you for being able to stand up when I feel like I'm ready to fall. Thank you for being everything I am and everything I'm not strong enough to be some days. Also..." Dndmama let out a long sigh and a wry grin drew itself across her mouth as she continued. "I'm sorry. For everything. But I promise I'll make it up to you. All of it. I'm just too much of a sucker for a happy ending not to really."
Plump red lips pursed for a moment before Neriah's expression slowly softened. "Yea. Me too. Does that mean you'll stop killing off all the people I love?"
Dndmama couldn't help but grin. Neriah had inherited her sense of humor after all. "Yea, I'm not making that promise."
Those sapphire eyes widen for a brief moment before an honest laugh escapes her lips. "Well then I'm not going to promise not to obliterate all your carefully planned story points. So there." Thin, athletic arms cross and she raises her chin challengingly at her author. Dndmama could only sigh.
"Yea, that sounds about right. Ugh."
Dndmama wrung her hands self consciously beside the noted beauty. She knew she couldn't compare with her short sheared brown locks and her thick glasses and really any other notable physical feature she might possess, but Neriah didn't need to make her feel it so keenly. After all, wasn't she always getting on other people's cases about treating her differently due to the way she looked? Hey...yea... The flesh and blood woman took a deep breath and met Neriah's gaze stubborn for stubborn. "Okay, no. You do not get to be a judgmental witch to me just because I'm not some hip swaying, man killing super model. In fact, you know what? You decide you have any more snarky comments to make about my looks and I'm giving you an obsession with Nickleback. Got it?"
Neriah's eyes narrowed for a moment before one side of her mouth tilted upwards in a grudging smirk. "Fair enough. So, what was it you wanted to talk about anyways?"
The shorter woman simply blinked for a moment, honestly at a loss as to what to say to one of her most beloved and developed characters after all these years. Considering all the losses Neriah has endured, the battles she's fought, and all the varied adventures she's set out upon, the ups and downs, the hardships, the losses, the heart break and the victories, how could she help this woman understand the truth of her existence? "I guess...I just wanted to say thank you. Thank you for giving all my anger a voice when I can't express it myself. Thank you for being able to stand up when I feel like I'm ready to fall. Thank you for being everything I am and everything I'm not strong enough to be some days. Also..." Dndmama let out a long sigh and a wry grin drew itself across her mouth as she continued. "I'm sorry. For everything. But I promise I'll make it up to you. All of it. I'm just too much of a sucker for a happy ending not to really."
Plump red lips pursed for a moment before Neriah's expression slowly softened. "Yea. Me too. Does that mean you'll stop killing off all the people I love?"
Dndmama couldn't help but grin. Neriah had inherited her sense of humor after all. "Yea, I'm not making that promise."
Those sapphire eyes widen for a brief moment before an honest laugh escapes her lips. "Well then I'm not going to promise not to obliterate all your carefully planned story points. So there." Thin, athletic arms cross and she raises her chin challengingly at her author. Dndmama could only sigh.
"Yea, that sounds about right. Ugh."
rolled 1d12 and got 9
I've got 14, but we'll just skip the last two to make this easier on the dice.
The shadow of a once proud being awoke in a white room, standing in the middle of nowhere. Up ahead sat a skinny man in his early twenties, black-rim glasses, dirty-blonde and unkempt hair and just as muddy blue eyes. Dark rings under his eyes told of countless battles with timezones and other evils of the modern world. Raising his head, he smiled at the woman and invited her to sit at the table with an inviting gesture. "Come and sit. I am sure you want to talk a little."
After hesitating for a moment, the woman moved forward and sat down with a confused expression. She could tell who the man was but also was not sure how to feel about it. First of all, why did he have to be human? Humans were evil, she hated them with her entire being - was he a god or a man? Was he both? She knew that she had descended into madness centuries ago, so how was she supposed to treat this experience? Was this a creation of her imagination or... was this real? As if knowing what she was thinking, the man sighed, pairing it with a crooked smirk. "This is real. Despite failing to complete your retribution so far, I'll have you be sane for the time being. Makes it easier to talk."
Ilfale nodded understandingly. For the first time in forever, she began to come to terms with things around her, or at least attempt to grasp what was happening. The core ideas behind her existence, why she was going through the troubles of her existence and what the rough end of her story might be. At least the last bit seemed to have a positive outlook, so she had something to look forward to the next time she could think clearly again. "Would I have less to go through if you had a better grasp of your own life?", she asked somewhat straightforwardly.
"Maybe.", the man answered as if trying to avoid the topic altogether. "But you are not a replacement or a result of my own problems. I created you to be your own person, to have your own struggle, differing from my own. Although I am hoping that a positive outcome can motivate me as well."
The pale woman wrinkled her eyebrows but did not say anything. At least her worst suspicion did not turn out to be true. Now that she thought about it, most of her comrades in the dashboard had little to do with the man. Was he some kind of escapist or pervert? Most of his characters were women after all - and not the ugly kind either, at least not appearance-wise.
"I do enjoy characters that represent things that I won't be able to achieve.", the man sighed and shrugged. "I don't think it is escapism though. I help you explore the possibilities of your situation but I don't intend to become you. I am me, you are you. You might not feel like you get the same love or activity as other characters but... I promise you that I did not forget about you. Now... be on your way. I am sure there are others that want to talk as well... and stay out of trouble, you hear me?"
What was he saying... He was the origin of most of her troubles - be it past, present or future. That was a bit hypocritical, was it not? Still, it was nice to hear that at least someone cared about her.
After hesitating for a moment, the woman moved forward and sat down with a confused expression. She could tell who the man was but also was not sure how to feel about it. First of all, why did he have to be human? Humans were evil, she hated them with her entire being - was he a god or a man? Was he both? She knew that she had descended into madness centuries ago, so how was she supposed to treat this experience? Was this a creation of her imagination or... was this real? As if knowing what she was thinking, the man sighed, pairing it with a crooked smirk. "This is real. Despite failing to complete your retribution so far, I'll have you be sane for the time being. Makes it easier to talk."
Ilfale nodded understandingly. For the first time in forever, she began to come to terms with things around her, or at least attempt to grasp what was happening. The core ideas behind her existence, why she was going through the troubles of her existence and what the rough end of her story might be. At least the last bit seemed to have a positive outlook, so she had something to look forward to the next time she could think clearly again. "Would I have less to go through if you had a better grasp of your own life?", she asked somewhat straightforwardly.
"Maybe.", the man answered as if trying to avoid the topic altogether. "But you are not a replacement or a result of my own problems. I created you to be your own person, to have your own struggle, differing from my own. Although I am hoping that a positive outcome can motivate me as well."
The pale woman wrinkled her eyebrows but did not say anything. At least her worst suspicion did not turn out to be true. Now that she thought about it, most of her comrades in the dashboard had little to do with the man. Was he some kind of escapist or pervert? Most of his characters were women after all - and not the ugly kind either, at least not appearance-wise.
"I do enjoy characters that represent things that I won't be able to achieve.", the man sighed and shrugged. "I don't think it is escapism though. I help you explore the possibilities of your situation but I don't intend to become you. I am me, you are you. You might not feel like you get the same love or activity as other characters but... I promise you that I did not forget about you. Now... be on your way. I am sure there are others that want to talk as well... and stay out of trouble, you hear me?"
What was he saying... He was the origin of most of her troubles - be it past, present or future. That was a bit hypocritical, was it not? Still, it was nice to hear that at least someone cared about her.
rolled 1d12 and got 6
hmm, 13 doesn't work. 12. I'll skip the one that never saw action.
@Petrovalyc
Oh. my . God. My first rp partner. I knew that style of coloring speech was unique but it really is you. I even still have the character ... You can't believe how excited I am to finally know who I was writing with. I gave up on finding you because you used your character anonymously back then but... oh my, how have things been going for you? Do you still remember this lil' one?
Oh. my . God. My first rp partner. I knew that style of coloring speech was unique but it really is you. I even still have the character ... You can't believe how excited I am to finally know who I was writing with. I gave up on finding you because you used your character anonymously back then but... oh my, how have things been going for you? Do you still remember this lil' one?
I walked down the street, turning to flash my bus pass to the driver. Someone catches my eye as I sit in the seat across from them. I look at him.
"I like your cloak," I say to the brown haired man next to me and he smiled at me.
"Thank you, a lady named Meredith made it for me. I love it so much. Totally always gonna wear it." He laughed.
I blink owlishly, moistining by lips. Meredith? Why did that sound so....familiar?
"Hey....whats your name?" I asked suddenly.
"Me? Im Hex."
My jaw dropped. After a moment Hex looked at me.
"....are you okay?" he asked, seeming confused.
"Your a long way from home arent you." I suddenly blurt, disregarding his earlier question as I play with the cord of my headphones with my fingers. I make a swift decision,"...Egon."
The next moment, he grabs me and pulls me into the seat by him. The bus was basically empty, so no one noticed.
"How the hell do you know that?" Hex hissed, then a thought struck him," Wheres Jamie?! What have you done?"
I yelped and panicked,"I didnt do anything I can explain!uh...did you forsee me?"
"...I did, but I didnt see much. Explain now. Start talking. Oh, and your coming with me." Hex glared at me. And I shivered.
"My mom will worry," I explained,"I-"
Hex silenced with with a chilling glare, I suddenly remembered how scary he could be.
"Listen, I created you!" I tried to explain.
"You did not create me mom," was the sarcastic response. This was going to be a long night.
"I like your cloak," I say to the brown haired man next to me and he smiled at me.
"Thank you, a lady named Meredith made it for me. I love it so much. Totally always gonna wear it." He laughed.
I blink owlishly, moistining by lips. Meredith? Why did that sound so....familiar?
"Hey....whats your name?" I asked suddenly.
"Me? Im Hex."
My jaw dropped. After a moment Hex looked at me.
"....are you okay?" he asked, seeming confused.
"Your a long way from home arent you." I suddenly blurt, disregarding his earlier question as I play with the cord of my headphones with my fingers. I make a swift decision,"...Egon."
The next moment, he grabs me and pulls me into the seat by him. The bus was basically empty, so no one noticed.
"How the hell do you know that?" Hex hissed, then a thought struck him," Wheres Jamie?! What have you done?"
I yelped and panicked,"I didnt do anything I can explain!uh...did you forsee me?"
"...I did, but I didnt see much. Explain now. Start talking. Oh, and your coming with me." Hex glared at me. And I shivered.
"My mom will worry," I explained,"I-"
Hex silenced with with a chilling glare, I suddenly remembered how scary he could be.
"Listen, I created you!" I tried to explain.
"You did not create me mom," was the sarcastic response. This was going to be a long night.
rolled 1d20 and got 8
Lets see how this goes
I walk down the street. It is night, and I wait in front of a building to get picked up back to my house. I know that my mom would get worried if I am out for too long at my friends house, so I called her to pick me up. I see the car now, but it is driving faster than my parents usually drive.
"Ahh!" I yell as the headlights flash in my eyes, and sludge from the street is flung onto me. I know now that this is someone else.
"Hey, could you please watch who you're splashing sludge on and blinding?" I ask, still blinded by the headlights, so I couldn't see the driver. When it wore off, I looked at the man. He was young, I thought around his thirties, and he looked familiar.
"Are you okay, kid?" he asked.
Now, where did I hear that voice before.
"Yeah, I'm fine. What's your name?" I asked back.
"Jax. Jax Bone," he answered.
My mouth fell open and I just stared.
"Kid, it's rude to stare," he said uncomfortably.
"Um, how are you here?" I asked, confused.
"I am here because of this car," he said sarcastically.
"No, I mean why are you here, Jaxson?" I say his nickname, but then I realize that he doesn't know me.
He suddenly becomes threatening.
"How do you know what I am called?" he growls. "Have you done something with Kendie?!"
He pulls me up to him in the car. "Tell. Me."
"I-I-I know b-because I creat-t-ted y-y-you," I stutter, knowing how dangerous he could be. "And I h-have to g-g-get home, bec-c-cause my f-family will be w-w-worried."
"How could you create me?"
"You're one of my characters on RPR!" I blurt out, then cringe, ready for a blow.
"I don't even know what RPR is, you little brat!" he spits, then drops me. He drives away, and I soon see my car. As the fear from what happened fades away, I am so excited and confused about meeting my character.
"Ahh!" I yell as the headlights flash in my eyes, and sludge from the street is flung onto me. I know now that this is someone else.
"Hey, could you please watch who you're splashing sludge on and blinding?" I ask, still blinded by the headlights, so I couldn't see the driver. When it wore off, I looked at the man. He was young, I thought around his thirties, and he looked familiar.
"Are you okay, kid?" he asked.
Now, where did I hear that voice before.
"Yeah, I'm fine. What's your name?" I asked back.
"Jax. Jax Bone," he answered.
My mouth fell open and I just stared.
"Kid, it's rude to stare," he said uncomfortably.
"Um, how are you here?" I asked, confused.
"I am here because of this car," he said sarcastically.
"No, I mean why are you here, Jaxson?" I say his nickname, but then I realize that he doesn't know me.
He suddenly becomes threatening.
"How do you know what I am called?" he growls. "Have you done something with Kendie?!"
He pulls me up to him in the car. "Tell. Me."
"I-I-I know b-because I creat-t-ted y-y-you," I stutter, knowing how dangerous he could be. "And I h-have to g-g-get home, bec-c-cause my f-family will be w-w-worried."
"How could you create me?"
"You're one of my characters on RPR!" I blurt out, then cringe, ready for a blow.
"I don't even know what RPR is, you little brat!" he spits, then drops me. He drives away, and I soon see my car. As the fear from what happened fades away, I am so excited and confused about meeting my character.
rolled 1d6 and got 4
5 and 6 are rerolls.
((Hikari-Yagaza, I am not meaing to copy you, that is just what would happen if I met my character, Jax))
StormDestroyer wrote:
((Hikari-Yagaza, I am not meaing to copy you, that is just what would happen if I met my character, Jax))
((Ah. No biggie. I understand lol. It was diffrent enough that it was intresting to read.))
I just want to tell all you guys that you're all creative and amazing writers. It's my favorite go-to thread when I'm bored 
What are the chances?
The universe is surely a very, very big place. In fact, so big that there's even a chance someone from outer space might just simply decide to appear on your neighborhood. Most of these case are usually told off as these photoshopped "UFO" sightings and what-not, so there's not much to it. On some cases, though, a creature directly from the Triangulum Galaxy might have make up a doll and currently dominates the biggest social network available on Earth.
However, the universe is so big, that there is a very likely chance an exact look-alike, both in terms or appearance and biography might appear right in your backyard, providing you have one. Even more likely, on a late-night cat-fight observer on his mid-twenties, most precisely, down the hemisphere.
These cats do not scream or howl that loud. Neither that terrified. Nor they hiss so loud, akin to a Titanoboa, that every dog in the block begins to bark to their hearts content.
Nor they spit fire.
"GET AWAY FROM ME!!"
Then not only the dogs were up but the entire neighborhood. The bloodcurdling yell made the toughest thugs in the hood to clench their rears, for that came from something they definitely wouldn't even hope poking with an counterfeited assault rifle. Nature, your local southern-hemisphere cat-watcher on his mid twenties would grab the nearest bar of steel for self defense and rush out. As far as he concerned, there is pyro of sorts trying to set fire to the cats - and the cats now talk and yell.
Writing with a trucker - or blatantly leaving him months without responses - from up the hemisphere, doing the same thing with someone in a cold place in the Old World and a handful bunch of more high-hemisphere people prompts you to come up with creative outputs. One of them being a crimson-stained beast that stands on two legs, wears a set of kevlar armor and can spit fire. Then what are the chances of having this same abomination right outside your home? In the Milky Way? On the Pale Blue Dot?
Not absolutely zero. But something next to it.
The scene that unfolded before that cat-watcher was brain-shockingly unbelievable. And absurdly ironic.
A pair of felines that have been just tearing the fur out of each other apart were chasing after a red beast, golden-yellow eyes wide open in shock and terror, as flames appeared to jet from its hissing maw, lined with teeth. It could use a gun that simply does not exists on Earth to obliterate the cats but, for some reason, it simply refused to. - "These things are trying to eat me alive!" - It added, running straight forward to the man that just dropped his weapon - a steel bar. His hands were now too busy trying to hold a yell, or a maniacal laughter, or stammering questions. The being shoved him aside - and he did not even dare to resist - and simply crouched in a corner. Watchful for any murderous ceiling felines. And they simply darted away at the sight of one of the most terrifying creatures cat-kind have ever saw: A human.
"... You're Ilya... ?" - After a long while, the human finally addressed the draconian creature. It was only draconian in appearance, because now it was afraid of the human before it. - "B-But how you even know my name?!"
By now, the man was just repeating the name of the abrahamic deity. A turbulent mix of ecstasy and dread befell over him. - "Girl, what the hell are you doing here?! You're supposed to be fighting Aerths alongside The Captain, y'know?!" - The draconian was even more afraid now that the human was effectively hugging her being. Not out of certain degenerate preferences but how the universe he made out in his mind simply appeared to be now very real. He can't be blamed for it, anyway, he'd probably do the same with the "Captain", even if he would throw him on the ground, force him to go through years long space travels and clean the grimy floor of a certain Heavy Artillery Cruiser.
"How... Did you find out about that? T-That is a secret! Thet Government knows?!" - On which the human promptly answered. - "Dear, I know everything about you. Or your Captain. Or your his ship and... Hell, is the masked man with you?" - Either this person was a very talented intelligence agent or was plain mad. - "You mean, Him?? You wouldn't like to be near him."
The southern hemisphere dweller certainly wouldn't. He would just have his face instantly mashed to pulp by a cybernetic arm if he even implied some sort of knowledge about the person he was talking about.
"Anyway, Ilya, if I'm not mistaken, you are supposed to be being... Chased by... The Aerthian..." - And that was when every device that received a radio output in Earth immediately blared: "Attention, inhabitants of the Orion's Arm. Your planet is being seized by the Holiest Authority of the Aerthian Empire. Submit your forces at once until our operations are done. Your peasantry routines may resume then. May the Holy Sanctity of the King blesses your souls."
That's when the whole nightsky was lit red. Dark metallic structures covered the full moon, overextending through the horizon. Naturally, when it was instantly split in half by another much smaller metallic structure, the southern hemisphere dweller couldn't help but break into laughter.
"'Yer daily routine 'may presume instantly, citizens! 'Hav e 'verrry wanderful day!"
The fact that he felt every bone in his body cracking after the draconian simply couldn't hold her joy and went to share it with the human made very clear that this was not a dream. It was reality.
And that were very, very, very, very, very bad news.
"Since you're a witness I think I'll have to make you tag along."
And the neighborhood were screaming. But that even meant they never saw that cat-watcher again. His family now could focus on more pressing priorities and planet Earth was saved from having a crappy science fiction story ridden with cliches and power fantasies on the shelves of every bookstore.
The universe is surely a very, very big place. In fact, so big that there's even a chance someone from outer space might just simply decide to appear on your neighborhood. Most of these case are usually told off as these photoshopped "UFO" sightings and what-not, so there's not much to it. On some cases, though, a creature directly from the Triangulum Galaxy might have make up a doll and currently dominates the biggest social network available on Earth.
However, the universe is so big, that there is a very likely chance an exact look-alike, both in terms or appearance and biography might appear right in your backyard, providing you have one. Even more likely, on a late-night cat-fight observer on his mid-twenties, most precisely, down the hemisphere.
These cats do not scream or howl that loud. Neither that terrified. Nor they hiss so loud, akin to a Titanoboa, that every dog in the block begins to bark to their hearts content.
Nor they spit fire.
"GET AWAY FROM ME!!"
Then not only the dogs were up but the entire neighborhood. The bloodcurdling yell made the toughest thugs in the hood to clench their rears, for that came from something they definitely wouldn't even hope poking with an counterfeited assault rifle. Nature, your local southern-hemisphere cat-watcher on his mid twenties would grab the nearest bar of steel for self defense and rush out. As far as he concerned, there is pyro of sorts trying to set fire to the cats - and the cats now talk and yell.
Writing with a trucker - or blatantly leaving him months without responses - from up the hemisphere, doing the same thing with someone in a cold place in the Old World and a handful bunch of more high-hemisphere people prompts you to come up with creative outputs. One of them being a crimson-stained beast that stands on two legs, wears a set of kevlar armor and can spit fire. Then what are the chances of having this same abomination right outside your home? In the Milky Way? On the Pale Blue Dot?
Not absolutely zero. But something next to it.
The scene that unfolded before that cat-watcher was brain-shockingly unbelievable. And absurdly ironic.
A pair of felines that have been just tearing the fur out of each other apart were chasing after a red beast, golden-yellow eyes wide open in shock and terror, as flames appeared to jet from its hissing maw, lined with teeth. It could use a gun that simply does not exists on Earth to obliterate the cats but, for some reason, it simply refused to. - "These things are trying to eat me alive!" - It added, running straight forward to the man that just dropped his weapon - a steel bar. His hands were now too busy trying to hold a yell, or a maniacal laughter, or stammering questions. The being shoved him aside - and he did not even dare to resist - and simply crouched in a corner. Watchful for any murderous ceiling felines. And they simply darted away at the sight of one of the most terrifying creatures cat-kind have ever saw: A human.
"... You're Ilya... ?" - After a long while, the human finally addressed the draconian creature. It was only draconian in appearance, because now it was afraid of the human before it. - "B-But how you even know my name?!"
By now, the man was just repeating the name of the abrahamic deity. A turbulent mix of ecstasy and dread befell over him. - "Girl, what the hell are you doing here?! You're supposed to be fighting Aerths alongside The Captain, y'know?!" - The draconian was even more afraid now that the human was effectively hugging her being. Not out of certain degenerate preferences but how the universe he made out in his mind simply appeared to be now very real. He can't be blamed for it, anyway, he'd probably do the same with the "Captain", even if he would throw him on the ground, force him to go through years long space travels and clean the grimy floor of a certain Heavy Artillery Cruiser.
"How... Did you find out about that? T-That is a secret! Thet Government knows?!" - On which the human promptly answered. - "Dear, I know everything about you. Or your Captain. Or your his ship and... Hell, is the masked man with you?" - Either this person was a very talented intelligence agent or was plain mad. - "You mean, Him?? You wouldn't like to be near him."
The southern hemisphere dweller certainly wouldn't. He would just have his face instantly mashed to pulp by a cybernetic arm if he even implied some sort of knowledge about the person he was talking about.
"Anyway, Ilya, if I'm not mistaken, you are supposed to be being... Chased by... The Aerthian..." - And that was when every device that received a radio output in Earth immediately blared: "Attention, inhabitants of the Orion's Arm. Your planet is being seized by the Holiest Authority of the Aerthian Empire. Submit your forces at once until our operations are done. Your peasantry routines may resume then. May the Holy Sanctity of the King blesses your souls."
That's when the whole nightsky was lit red. Dark metallic structures covered the full moon, overextending through the horizon. Naturally, when it was instantly split in half by another much smaller metallic structure, the southern hemisphere dweller couldn't help but break into laughter.
"'Yer daily routine 'may presume instantly, citizens! 'Hav e 'verrry wanderful day!"
The fact that he felt every bone in his body cracking after the draconian simply couldn't hold her joy and went to share it with the human made very clear that this was not a dream. It was reality.
And that were very, very, very, very, very bad news.
"Since you're a witness I think I'll have to make you tag along."
And the neighborhood were screaming. But that even meant they never saw that cat-watcher again. His family now could focus on more pressing priorities and planet Earth was saved from having a crappy science fiction story ridden with cliches and power fantasies on the shelves of every bookstore.
rolled 1d6 and got 3
I walked up to yasoi and she stared at me with a evil eye and snapped her fingers
"I always wanted to do this!"
And she slammed me against the wall with her eldritch powers
"WHY YOU DO THIS?" I asked
"Because I always hated you because of how much pain you made me go through!" She said
And she snapped again and I blanked out
"I always wanted to do this!"
And she slammed me against the wall with her eldritch powers
"WHY YOU DO THIS?" I asked
"Because I always hated you because of how much pain you made me go through!" She said
And she snapped again and I blanked out
rolled 1d2 and got 1
The Alchemist looked over the strange, black machine that was settled onto the counter, eyeing the sort of water containment piece along the side as well.
"And this thing..it can..brew something?" He picked his words carefully, his gaze snapping back to the tired, shaggy-haired man who stood beside him. He was completely baffled by this machine, it made him question the state of his own alchemy equipment.
"What is this..thing called? I still can't wrap my mind around it. An alchemist usually has plenty of equipment all about for his projects, but.."
"It's called a Keurig coffee maker." Ace said flatly, taking another long sip of his freshly-made coffee. Piping hot, 3 sugar, 2 cream, just how he liked it. He watched as the alchemist squinted and scowled as he tried to make sense of what he had just heard.
Balker brought his hands to his face before taking a deep breath. "A..Keu-Rig. Is this your invention? I must learn more of this thing.." He reached to examine it gingerly, pressing a few of the buttons as he did. He jumped when the machine hummed, water suddenly spilling out onto the counter. "Curses!"
Ace sighed before turning on heel to leave for a moment, returning with a towel. "Wipe that up, will you?" He handed it over to his strange guest. "And no, I didn't make it, but I can tell you more about it later, I guess."
"Oh, that'd be quite good!"
"And this thing..it can..brew something?" He picked his words carefully, his gaze snapping back to the tired, shaggy-haired man who stood beside him. He was completely baffled by this machine, it made him question the state of his own alchemy equipment.
"What is this..thing called? I still can't wrap my mind around it. An alchemist usually has plenty of equipment all about for his projects, but.."
"It's called a Keurig coffee maker." Ace said flatly, taking another long sip of his freshly-made coffee. Piping hot, 3 sugar, 2 cream, just how he liked it. He watched as the alchemist squinted and scowled as he tried to make sense of what he had just heard.
Balker brought his hands to his face before taking a deep breath. "A..Keu-Rig. Is this your invention? I must learn more of this thing.." He reached to examine it gingerly, pressing a few of the buttons as he did. He jumped when the machine hummed, water suddenly spilling out onto the counter. "Curses!"
Ace sighed before turning on heel to leave for a moment, returning with a towel. "Wipe that up, will you?" He handed it over to his strange guest. "And no, I didn't make it, but I can tell you more about it later, I guess."
"Oh, that'd be quite good!"
rolled 1d10 and got 8
((What an interesting exercise.))
I'm sitting at in the food court of the local mall, eating some delishously unhealthy vegetable lo mein from one of the vendors there. I break open the fortune cookie and it says, "An unusual encounter awaits you. Embrace it."
"That's a weird fortune cookie," I mumble myself, then I pop the smooth cookie in my mouth and wash it down with long swigs of Dr. Pepper, which tingles pleasantly going down. I sigh, thinking about how I shouldn't be exposing my teeth to sugary acid, even if I am at the mall.
My eyes drift out to the people in the mall--some going up and down the escalator with colorful bags, talking and laughing. I laugh as I watch a mother try to convince a nervous little girl to step onto the moving stairs, and finally picks her up and holds her, stepping onto the escalator.
I have come to the mall by myself, because my wife is out of town. But mainly to sit in the massage chairs and watch the people ice skate. I enjoy the time alone, because I rarely get it, something I would not have been able to say in my younger years, when I was always lonely.
And yet...a deeper sense of loneliness pervades my psyche, in deeper places than on the surface; not an acute kind of lonliness, but the urge to be known. The desperation of acute lonliness is gone, and I am content, but a deeper, more chronic hollowness remains. The urge to be understood.
But as a tall, attractive Native American woman walks up, I'm not thinking about lonliness. I'm just enjoying myself, entertained by the mini-dramas unfolding around me in the crowds of people walking to and fro. Sitting in the food court by myself, no one is noticing me. I feel invisible. And I like it that way. Strangers who get too close predictably avert their eyes if I avert mine. Safe.
But the Native American woman doesn't avert her eyes. She keeps walking up to me. She doesn't stop until she's standing a few feet away, and we're looking at each other.
"Hi..." I say, not sure what to make of it. "Do you want to sit down?"
"Yes, thank you," she says, smiling. She sits in the chair adjacent to mine at the tiny food court table. She looks so familiar. The high cheekbones, the delicate facial features, the dark, penetrating eyes. I feel a vibe from her. An energy of self-confidence and openness. Of welcome. It's almost like her energy is inviting me to come to know her without any words exchanged.
"Who are you?" I ask, shaking my head slightly in disbelief.
"You know who I am," Karuna says, her lips forming a small smile--not sarcastic, but beneficent. Her lips are covered in red lipstick that is closer to maroon than cherry red. It goes nicely with the brown tone of her skin, and is glossy. It makes her smile, even a small one, look striking.
I shake my head in disbelief, but the longer I sit with her, the more I know it's her.
"Why are you here?" I ask her, rhetorically.
"You know why I'm here," she says, smiling wider, shaking her head. Laugh lines appearing around her eyes.
She's amused.
"You're want to take me with you," I state, meeting her unwavering gaze. "To the Oasis."
Karuna looks down for a moment, then back up and into my eyes.
"You need something," she tells me, stating a fact we both already know. She reaches her hand out, and touches my face. Her soft touch rolls down my cheek and across my chin.
Tears spring into my eyes, and I close them, trying not to let the ocean of emotion that I'm riding on drown me. She sees them, and scoots her wooden chair closer to mine, so that we're facing each other more. She reaches out her hand and touches mine, squeezing it.
"It's okay," Karuna says. I open my eyes again. Tears run down my cheeks. With both hands, Karuna reaches out, wipes the tears away with her thumbs, despite the fact that more fall in their place.
"Shhhhhh....shhhhh" she says, looking at me, caressing my head and the sides of my face, wiping away each new tear as it falls.
Eventually, the tears stop. And I feel...peaceful. Then, Karuna places her hands on my head, with one palm on each temple. She bows her head, and closes her eyes. I close my eyes too.
"Peace," she whispers, and I feel a sense of peace come over me. It rushes into my mind, like a rushing wind flowing in through an crack that I had forgotten was there.
"Peace," she says again, and the feeling, at war with my own nature, sinks in a little more, penetrates a little deeper.
"Take a deep breath," Karuna instructs me. I obey. "Let it out--let it out slowly," she instructs. I slowly let the deep breath out, my eyes still closed.
"Again," she says. I take a deep breath in, then release it again, slowly. Karuna opens her eyes. She has sensed something.
"Gail..." she says, frowning. "Stop fighting me." I open my eyes and look at her.
"I...I can't," I say honestly, tears glistening in my eyes again.
Karuna studies me for a while, as if trying to analyze me, her eyes wandering around and landing alternately on different parts of my face. She strokes my hair gently for a moment, lovingly, and a single set of tears escape my eyes again as she withdraws her hands from my head and places them in her lap.
"You need the Oasis," Karuna says to me, her steady brown eyes confronting mine.
"I know," I tell her, my eyes unflinchingly meeting hers, "But I can't go with you."
Her eyebrows go up, and she gives me the look of a teacher who doesn't believe something their student has said.
"I can't leave my wife," I say. "Not even for a week. She wouldn't understand." Karuna frowns, looking down. Thinking. For a moment, I dared to hope. Maybe...
"Can --- can I bring her?" I ask Karuna. She looks up at me with a look of sympathy, slowly shakes her head.
"Gail...it's a journey that one must always go on alone," she says.
I nod.
"I can't go on a journey like that. Not without her. We'll get there together or not at all," I say, trying to keep my resolve. I really want to go with her.
Karuna looks up at me, the light of faith in her countenance, and she smiles at me.
"Gail--" she says, and then pauses as if changing her train of thought. Then, she just looks at me, resigned but content. "You'll get there."
'
I'm sitting at in the food court of the local mall, eating some delishously unhealthy vegetable lo mein from one of the vendors there. I break open the fortune cookie and it says, "An unusual encounter awaits you. Embrace it."
"That's a weird fortune cookie," I mumble myself, then I pop the smooth cookie in my mouth and wash it down with long swigs of Dr. Pepper, which tingles pleasantly going down. I sigh, thinking about how I shouldn't be exposing my teeth to sugary acid, even if I am at the mall.
My eyes drift out to the people in the mall--some going up and down the escalator with colorful bags, talking and laughing. I laugh as I watch a mother try to convince a nervous little girl to step onto the moving stairs, and finally picks her up and holds her, stepping onto the escalator.
I have come to the mall by myself, because my wife is out of town. But mainly to sit in the massage chairs and watch the people ice skate. I enjoy the time alone, because I rarely get it, something I would not have been able to say in my younger years, when I was always lonely.
And yet...a deeper sense of loneliness pervades my psyche, in deeper places than on the surface; not an acute kind of lonliness, but the urge to be known. The desperation of acute lonliness is gone, and I am content, but a deeper, more chronic hollowness remains. The urge to be understood.
But as a tall, attractive Native American woman walks up, I'm not thinking about lonliness. I'm just enjoying myself, entertained by the mini-dramas unfolding around me in the crowds of people walking to and fro. Sitting in the food court by myself, no one is noticing me. I feel invisible. And I like it that way. Strangers who get too close predictably avert their eyes if I avert mine. Safe.
But the Native American woman doesn't avert her eyes. She keeps walking up to me. She doesn't stop until she's standing a few feet away, and we're looking at each other.
"Hi..." I say, not sure what to make of it. "Do you want to sit down?"
"Yes, thank you," she says, smiling. She sits in the chair adjacent to mine at the tiny food court table. She looks so familiar. The high cheekbones, the delicate facial features, the dark, penetrating eyes. I feel a vibe from her. An energy of self-confidence and openness. Of welcome. It's almost like her energy is inviting me to come to know her without any words exchanged.
"Who are you?" I ask, shaking my head slightly in disbelief.
"You know who I am," Karuna says, her lips forming a small smile--not sarcastic, but beneficent. Her lips are covered in red lipstick that is closer to maroon than cherry red. It goes nicely with the brown tone of her skin, and is glossy. It makes her smile, even a small one, look striking.
I shake my head in disbelief, but the longer I sit with her, the more I know it's her.
"Why are you here?" I ask her, rhetorically.
"You know why I'm here," she says, smiling wider, shaking her head. Laugh lines appearing around her eyes.
She's amused.
"You're want to take me with you," I state, meeting her unwavering gaze. "To the Oasis."
Karuna looks down for a moment, then back up and into my eyes.
"You need something," she tells me, stating a fact we both already know. She reaches her hand out, and touches my face. Her soft touch rolls down my cheek and across my chin.
Tears spring into my eyes, and I close them, trying not to let the ocean of emotion that I'm riding on drown me. She sees them, and scoots her wooden chair closer to mine, so that we're facing each other more. She reaches out her hand and touches mine, squeezing it.
"It's okay," Karuna says. I open my eyes again. Tears run down my cheeks. With both hands, Karuna reaches out, wipes the tears away with her thumbs, despite the fact that more fall in their place.
"Shhhhhh....shhhhh" she says, looking at me, caressing my head and the sides of my face, wiping away each new tear as it falls.
Eventually, the tears stop. And I feel...peaceful. Then, Karuna places her hands on my head, with one palm on each temple. She bows her head, and closes her eyes. I close my eyes too.
"Peace," she whispers, and I feel a sense of peace come over me. It rushes into my mind, like a rushing wind flowing in through an crack that I had forgotten was there.
"Peace," she says again, and the feeling, at war with my own nature, sinks in a little more, penetrates a little deeper.
"Take a deep breath," Karuna instructs me. I obey. "Let it out--let it out slowly," she instructs. I slowly let the deep breath out, my eyes still closed.
"Again," she says. I take a deep breath in, then release it again, slowly. Karuna opens her eyes. She has sensed something.
"Gail..." she says, frowning. "Stop fighting me." I open my eyes and look at her.
"I...I can't," I say honestly, tears glistening in my eyes again.
Karuna studies me for a while, as if trying to analyze me, her eyes wandering around and landing alternately on different parts of my face. She strokes my hair gently for a moment, lovingly, and a single set of tears escape my eyes again as she withdraws her hands from my head and places them in her lap.
"You need the Oasis," Karuna says to me, her steady brown eyes confronting mine.
"I know," I tell her, my eyes unflinchingly meeting hers, "But I can't go with you."
Her eyebrows go up, and she gives me the look of a teacher who doesn't believe something their student has said.
"I can't leave my wife," I say. "Not even for a week. She wouldn't understand." Karuna frowns, looking down. Thinking. For a moment, I dared to hope. Maybe...
"Can --- can I bring her?" I ask Karuna. She looks up at me with a look of sympathy, slowly shakes her head.
"Gail...it's a journey that one must always go on alone," she says.
I nod.
"I can't go on a journey like that. Not without her. We'll get there together or not at all," I say, trying to keep my resolve. I really want to go with her.
Karuna looks up at me, the light of faith in her countenance, and she smiles at me.
"Gail--" she says, and then pauses as if changing her train of thought. Then, she just looks at me, resigned but content. "You'll get there."
'
"Hey..." Rose said when she saw Lady sitting in a cafe sipping some iced tea. Lady looked startled and blinked a few times.
"Rose?! No way... my character is alive... this isn't right..." She said with wide eyes.
Rose sat across from her and sighed. "Look we have a problem. I'm too much like you! Personality wise anyway... you're not a witch last I checked."
"No I'm not... and yeah sorry about that... you're the first character I made... I wasn't really sure what to do..." Lady said with a nervous laugh.
"So... edit me." Rose said like it was blatantly obvious.
"No can do. You're in too many stories it wouldn't be right..."
"Well... stop making all your characters hate lemons. That's you putting yourself in the characters which isn't really fair to us. We're supposed to be individuals!" Rose explained and folded her arms
"Well Lemons are disgusting so I'd never let you guys like them. That would be torture." Lady exclaimed and laughed in disbelief. "I am your creator you shouldn't question my decisions!"
"If you met your creator wouldn't you question their decisions?" Rose asked with a raised brow and a slight smirk.
"W-Well... yeah but..."
"Just a little food for though. See ya around!" Rose waved and stood up, leaving Lady confused and slightly annoyed.
"Am I that sassy?" She asked herself in disbelief.
"Yes." the waiter said and refilled her tea.
Lady groaned and laid her head on the table now regretting her decision to get out of bed.
"Rose?! No way... my character is alive... this isn't right..." She said with wide eyes.
Rose sat across from her and sighed. "Look we have a problem. I'm too much like you! Personality wise anyway... you're not a witch last I checked."
"No I'm not... and yeah sorry about that... you're the first character I made... I wasn't really sure what to do..." Lady said with a nervous laugh.
"So... edit me." Rose said like it was blatantly obvious.
"No can do. You're in too many stories it wouldn't be right..."
"Well... stop making all your characters hate lemons. That's you putting yourself in the characters which isn't really fair to us. We're supposed to be individuals!" Rose explained and folded her arms
"Well Lemons are disgusting so I'd never let you guys like them. That would be torture." Lady exclaimed and laughed in disbelief. "I am your creator you shouldn't question my decisions!"
"If you met your creator wouldn't you question their decisions?" Rose asked with a raised brow and a slight smirk.
"W-Well... yeah but..."
"Just a little food for though. See ya around!" Rose waved and stood up, leaving Lady confused and slightly annoyed.
"Am I that sassy?" She asked herself in disbelief.
"Yes." the waiter said and refilled her tea.
Lady groaned and laid her head on the table now regretting her decision to get out of bed.
The young demigoddess stared in confusion at the area she just arrived in through some sort of strange portal. She didn't know why she was here, but she had a feeling her curse had to do with it. That curse always seemed to drag her into all sorts of weird and dangerous situations. Though, she was glad her clothes were rather light. This weather was much warmer than Krita's. It felt like she was boiling just walking around.
The scenery was also nothing like Krita's. There were rows of houses with many eerily perfectly manicured lawns with various houses and strange large machines with wheels that didn't resemble carriages or trains at all. Sighing, she just continued walking around, sticking to the sidewalk until something made her stop. It was a young lady walking down the exact same sidewalk she was on. She seemed to be carrying a few packages and envelopes with her as well. Melody decided it would be worth a shot to approach her and find out about this new area.
The demigoddess hesitantly approached the girl, who seemed to be lost in thought at the moment, before tapping her shoulder and softly saying "Um, excuse me. Could you help me really quick?" The girl turned around and froze, looking as if she had seen a ghost when she had caught sight of Melody. "Um, miss, are you alright?" Melody asked, fearing that she may have done something wrong to scare the girl. Shaking off her expression, the girl sighed and muttered "Please don't tell me you're Melody Robinson or that you're a demigoddess that lives in Krita."
Melody blinked in surprise, stunned that a total stranger would know so much about her. "How did you know all of that? Are you some sort of psychic?" she inquired. The girl sighed again and muttered "Of course this would happen to me... ah well, at least it isn't Phoe or Octavia." before answering the question "Well, no, I'm not a psychic... I'm... well, I'm the person who brought you into existence. Wait, that sounds weird, lemme rephrase that. Let's just say I'm the person who created you and the country you live in."
Melody looked at the girl with confusion "So you mean to tell me, you're the reason why I'm cursed like this?" The girl let out a nervous laugh before nodding, "Yeah, pretty much."
"...I want to go back to Krita."
The scenery was also nothing like Krita's. There were rows of houses with many eerily perfectly manicured lawns with various houses and strange large machines with wheels that didn't resemble carriages or trains at all. Sighing, she just continued walking around, sticking to the sidewalk until something made her stop. It was a young lady walking down the exact same sidewalk she was on. She seemed to be carrying a few packages and envelopes with her as well. Melody decided it would be worth a shot to approach her and find out about this new area.
The demigoddess hesitantly approached the girl, who seemed to be lost in thought at the moment, before tapping her shoulder and softly saying "Um, excuse me. Could you help me really quick?" The girl turned around and froze, looking as if she had seen a ghost when she had caught sight of Melody. "Um, miss, are you alright?" Melody asked, fearing that she may have done something wrong to scare the girl. Shaking off her expression, the girl sighed and muttered "Please don't tell me you're Melody Robinson or that you're a demigoddess that lives in Krita."
Melody blinked in surprise, stunned that a total stranger would know so much about her. "How did you know all of that? Are you some sort of psychic?" she inquired. The girl sighed again and muttered "Of course this would happen to me... ah well, at least it isn't Phoe or Octavia." before answering the question "Well, no, I'm not a psychic... I'm... well, I'm the person who brought you into existence. Wait, that sounds weird, lemme rephrase that. Let's just say I'm the person who created you and the country you live in."
Melody looked at the girl with confusion "So you mean to tell me, you're the reason why I'm cursed like this?" The girl let out a nervous laugh before nodding, "Yeah, pretty much."
"...I want to go back to Krita."
rolled 4d10 and got a natural 31. After the modifier of +3, got 34
Hooboy. This one's a doozy.
There really was a very great deal of corn in the United States.
The more he traveled, the more Petro began to wonder if maybe the corn were the real citizens of the country, and the people merely the units used to tend them. Except, that was a really stupid idea, since the corn would not genocide itself in order to feed and power the things they used to kill themselves with…
Idly, eyes focused on the dizzying road that stretched on, and on and on, Petro began to wonder about a theoretical planet populated entirely by corn. Sentient corn. And all the people just sort of sat there, in stalky rows, just...being corn. But sentient.
No, that wasn’t a good idea. He didn’t need to voice record that idea for later, like he usually did with the revelations of writing that usually came only when he could focus on his work and let his mind run free. Or, relatively free. Focusing on driving let him use the unused portion of his brain for coherent thoughts, instead of the random jumbles of nonsense that were usually rattling around in there.
Not that thoughts about sentient corn could really be considered coherent...
For miles on end, the road continued. Petro proceeded. The GPS in the corner of his eye read that there were sixteen hours left to go. Maybe he’d stop within the hour and take a break, work on that p-
But his thoughts were interrupted when every driver’s worst nightmare came true before his eyes.
The sound was horrendous. Like a sack of meat being bludgeoned at a seventy mile velocity. A sickening thump unlike anything he had ever heard. Once, he’d hit a deer. But this sound was so much worse. For the thing he had struck was not a hearty woodland creature. It was a small, fleshy sack of fragile life, which he had now destroyed. The truck barely even lurched with the impact. Nor could he feel when the thig - the person - he had struck went under.
It was dreamlike - or, rather, nightmarish. What could not be happening was happening. Oh god. Oh godohgodohgod-
Conscious thought left him, and his body acted as though it were piloted by someone else. Someone who knew what they were doing. Immediately he slammed on the breaks, habitually tapping them to keep them from locking up and making things even worse as he guided the vehicle into the breakdown lane. It took almost a quarter of a mile for the heavy thing to come to a stop.
He was out of the cab and sprinting back then, heedless as to whether he had even set the brakes or put on his hazard flashers, and being forced to trust in his own habits, that he had done it without thinking. All that mattered now was - was - No, there was no chance any earthly life could have survived that impact, but he had to try, had to do something-
Then, Petro found himself standing in the middle of the desolate road. He was looking around at silent fields of gently waving corn, and wondering idly what he was doing there. Had he been looking for something…?
Again, it hit him - with the same force that he had hit- oh god - the claw of terror gripped his whole body -
But there was nothing there. Still in a panic, the idea was taking a long while to process - but sure enough, yes - or, no - or, yes, there was nothing there. No body. No blood. No little pile of mashed viscera with crimson tire tracks tapering to a fade along the hot, ashy road. Surely he must have just missed it - Petro whirled back and forth, searching wildly. Was he in the right place? Glancing back down the road, he could see the flashing lights at the rear of his trailer. He had run for at least a half mile, maybe a little more. So then maybe he had run past the scene?
Numbly, his whole body trembling and moving with a lurch that seemed disturbingly mechanical, Petro began to make his way back toward the truck. The road was perfectly flat - he should have been able to see...something. He was certain that the one he had hit had gone under the truck. So then where…?
Then, he was leaning on the hot, slightly rusty metal of the trailer itself. Had he blanked out and just missed it again? No, think - no, he hadn’t. There had been nothing there.
Another numbly simplistic idea occurred to him, and he stumbled the seventy-or-so feet back to, then in front of the big white cab, grabbing on to the stem of his nose-mounter mirror just to keep upright. Surely there would be a horrific mass of entrails clinging to the grill, maybe the lifeless, twitching corpse of-
Nothing.
Just a couple bugs.
One did look a bit larger than the others, but...Nothing. There was nothing there. He hadn’t hit anything at all.
Trying to breathe, Petro fell to sit, hunched and legs outstretched, on the hot road, heedless of discomfort. He gripped his head, staring at the little cracks and grooves in the pavement as if they might have held the answer.
A hallucination?
It wasn’t unheard of. There had been times when he’d pulled over and called it quits for seeing people that weren’t there out of the corner of his eye, or mistaking stationary objects for people - usually late at night, when he was very tired. But it was midday, and he had slept great. So what in the actual @#$% was going on?
His heart pounding, his mind numb and stupid with shock and terror, Petro just sat there, and stared at nothing. Vaguely, he perceived movement from his windshield. That did not make any sense, but-
And before he could waste any more time pondering this, the world exploded with sound loud enough to vibrate him down to the bone as his own air horn blared with all the force and fury of a train whistle screaming close enough to touch it. Entirely against his will, Petro shrieked in a decidedly unmasculine fashion. And once silence had returned, the deafening ring of tinnitus threatened to split his brain in two - but the driver ignored it. He ignored everything - everything except the figure of the person sitting in his driver’s seat.
It was a girl. Fifteen or sixteen years old with pale, nearly white skin, a white T shirt, and a wild, feathery mess of white-blonde hair flaring out beneath an incongruous black baseball cap, which Petro distinctly knew had been harvested from the end of time and brought back to the beginning, to spur on the creation of the universe.
What the actual-
This was a very interesting place!
It was small and enclosed, and it had recently plowed through her at a very high speed, but now it was not moving. It rumbled and vibrated slightly, which she found to be comforting. There were chairs in the front, where the walls became clear forcefields of something cool to the touch. Behind the chairs, there was a bed, and some cabinets, and a black box and a flat black thing mounted on the wall. There were some other interesting things too, and she was tempted to poke and prod at all of them.
But her attention span would not allow for the thorough examination that she wanted to give to every small object. There were just so many new things! New and interesting things. Buttons and knobs with all different lights and colors glowing prettily on the short-wall under the slanted glass forcefield, and a big wheel on a stick that she could turn, though it did not appear to have any function that she could determine. One of the knobs had made cold air woosh from a little slotted thing, and another turned lights in the ceiling on and off.
Thin sheets of paper with horizontal blue lines, evenly spaced, hung all together on a tiny metal coil, and there was some kind of cribbly writing between the spaces that she guessed was either words, or art. Probably art. There was a toggly-button to the side which made the forcefield descend! That one had startled her a bit, and she had hastily pressed the button the other way to make it go back up.
There were pedals on the floor. Three of them. Not unlike the blonde in the ancient story, she decided to try all three, one at a time. The first gave some resistance, and appeared to do nothing. The second gave a bunch of resistance, and when she pulled her booted foot back there was a sudden hiss that made her yelp. The third one though, was the easiest to push down - and the instant she did, the thing roared at her! That freaked her out. With another yelp, the girl pulled her legs up onto the seat and sat huddled, staring with wide, white-ringed eyes at the nose of the thing.
Clearly this thing was not a thing, but a creature. She was inside some kind of creature! And it was not at all happy with her pushing those pedals. It had hissed at her, then roared when she’d continued.
But some time passed, and the creature only rumbled. Gradually, the girl’s courage returned and she continued looking around the inside of the creature-thing.
This was, after all, presumably someone else’s thing. She figured that, because there was a lot of stuff inside the thing, and generally anywhere that people were, she found lots of stuff. Nifty stuff. The seat on the right side - she assumed it was the right, since both seats were facing the same direction - had a bunch of stuff on it, and she assumed that it was not sat in as much as the one on the left. It also did not have a big turny-wheely-thing, which made it seem somehow less important.
She was about to start poking at the things resting there when she noticed that on the floor in front of it were two bowls - one filled with water, the other with little brown pellets. Strange and interesting. Just like everything else.
Poking her head into the big place behind the seats, she looked at the bed. There were comfortable looking sheets of cloth and rectangular soft things that seemed to be stuffed with something else that was soft. Idly, she pondered if maybe she should take a nap, then decided against it. That would be silly. And besides, there was already someone - oh!
How she had not noticed the little creature was beyond her. But then, a lot of things were beyond her. It was positively delightful.
It lay on the bed, curled into a little ball, looking at her with wide, beady eyes behind a long snout and beneath huge ears that would have been pointy had they not flopped down halfway up. It had a long body and short, stubby legs, and a long, worm-like tail, and blunt little claws on the foot-was. It was wearing a pink necklace, with a little dangly bit. It was covered in coarse, beige fur, with a little white patch between the eyes.
Delighted, the girl made a small, squeaky sound and waved her hand at it, a huge, wide smile on her pale face. The creature just stared impassively at her. It was not one of the small, bushy-tailed creatures that attacked her when she tried to touch them. She did not like those creatures one bit. This one seemed friendly, though. Carefully, the girl inched forward, hand outstretched, and poked it on the end of the long snout. It blinked, and continued staring at her. She patted it hesitantly on the head. It blinked again, not seeming bothered.
And so she spent a few moments there, rubbing the creature’s furry head. It seemed fine with this and she probably could have sat there all day petting the creature if the sound from behind hadn’t startled her. IT was a soft chime, followed by an artificial sounding voice saying something in the weird language these people spoke. Whirling, the girl moved back to the seat and flopped into it.
Was the creature - the big creature-thing, within which she and the smaller creature currently sat - trying to communicate with her? To tell her something?
Momentarily, she wondered if the small creature in the back was the one who lived inside the larger creature-thing. Maybe the creature-thing only moved when the small one demanded it? It made sense. She could imagine the creature sitting where she was and watching the scenery go by.
For some moments, the girl sat there, waiting for the big creature-thing to say something else. But it did not. And as soon as she noticed the dangly thing, all thoughts of communication with the creature-thing fled to the back of her mind. She was entranced. It was a short, black braided rope tied off with a little metallic button, and it dangled from the ceiling right above the left forcefield. Without thinking, the girl grabbed it and pulled-
The creature let out a deafening howl that made the girl shrink back with a shriek of her own. SHe must have hurt it, with a sound like that! She felt awful. Even though the sound had ceased the instant she released the little rope, she still felt the need to stammer a hasty barrage of apologies, even though she assumed the creature could not understand her.
It said nothing in return, but that was okay. It was probably grumpy, but it hadn’t tried to kill her or yelled at her again, so it must have been oh look a person!
She saw him through the frontal forcefield. He was a man, with a little bit of hair on his face and a lot of hair on his head. He was dressed similarly to herself, but with those blue, canvasy pants that seemed to be so popular with these people. His skin was darker than her own, but still light. He was sitting on the ground in front of the big creature-thing, and he looked...unwell. How long had he been there? Still, she was always delighted to meet new people, especially if they were nice to her. She really liked it when that happened.
So, beaming, the girl greeted the human in one of the ways she had learned - by shaking her hand, palm facing outward and fingers splayed, from side to side. She assumed he could not hear her if she spoke, given that she was inside the big creature-thing - oh, it must be his big creature-thing! That made sense. He didn’t seem angry at her for being inside, which was nice - but he did look a bit frightened.
Curiously, the girl frowned. Why was he looking so...traumatized? He didn’t wave back - just stared dumbly at her with glazed, grey eyes.
In less than an instant - literally no time at all - she was outside of the creature-thing, standing beside it and looking even smaller than usual next to it’s great girth.She looked concerned now - the person was still just staring at her with some incomprehensible blend of fear and trauma and disbelief and a whole bunch of other things that she could sense, but not put words to.
Oh, there was relief in there, too. That was good at least, right?
A little bit shyly, the girl waved again and, quietly, chirped out a little "Hello!”
The guy blinked, seeming with every second that passed to be seeing her for the first time over and over. But after a long, long time, the guy blinked, half-raised a hand and said nearly inaudibly
”.....Hello…?”
It occurred to her suddenly, with a force. Right. She kept forgetting that people always reacted strangely when she decorporealized after some kind of blunt force trauma or otherwise unintentional mauling. She kept forgetting that these were Iridiites, not the First, and that if they sustained damage, they would die the Real Death. Not quite UnBeing, she thought, but something else. The ones who had not intended to generally felt bad over it.
As the realization dawned, the girl’s eyes became wide and a little nervous under the feathery hair. She still wasn’t quite sure what to do in these situations, but she could try her best. Putting her hands up halfway in a vague gesture of placation that even she didn’t know what it meant, she stammered softly, but hastily "I-it’s okay I’m fine see? Still here! I-it only hurt a little I’m okay really!”
It was about that point that a great weight seemed to fall from the guy’s shoulders. He teared up, and the girl became a tad more frantic. "Wha- nonono don’t do that! I-I’m okay see?” She poked herself in the head as if this might prove her point. It hurt a little.
Before she knew what she was even doing, the girl abruptly scampered forward. Next thing she knew, she was sitting on the ground with him, arms wrapped around the guy as he positively bawled his eyes out. Learning that physical contact was not a sacred thing among the Iridiites had been one of the best things she had come to know about the universe. She loved that about them. That her presence and touch seemed to be of at least some comfort to him made her swell inside with a strange pride. Made her all warm and fuzzy. She said things, softly. "It’s alright. Everything’s okay, I promise.” and they seemed to help. She repeated them sometimes too. He didn’t seem to mind.
She kept thinking of the old man. How she had bawled her eyes out and clung to him, and how great it had felt. She missed him.
She wasn’t sure how long she had been there with him, but it seemed to be a very long time. No other big creature-things went past them the whole time. Just them, out there, in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by stalky vegetation in neat rows for as far as the eye could see.
Eventually, the guy’s sobbing ceased, and the two sat in silence, with only the wind for company. The wind, and the big creature thing, which seemed not to mind waiting.
And when he at last did speak, the girl pulling slowly away and flopping into a cross-legged position in front of him, he sounded like was feeling better. He smiled weakly.
”Are you...feeling better?” She asked hesitantly, ready to tackle him if he started crying again. She wasn’t sure why she had been talking to him this whole time. He couldn’t understand her. Her language was a dead one. Nobody could understand her. But at least the inflection of her voice seemed to get across-
”I’ll live.” He croaked weakly, but with an overtone of wan optimism. ”I…@#$% I thought…” Hastily, the girl nodded. "I-it’s okay, this happens a lot!” She said, "Really! Yesterday I got squished under a big, uh, thing that moved and-” As with most things the girl came to learn, she realized it suddenly and just a bit later than she should have.
"Y-you…You can understand me!!” She yelped, eyes like saucers. ”Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod this is amazing!” Beaming, with a loud squeal of absolute joy, the girl suddenly lunged toward him again, wrapping him in a much tighter hug and clinging to him with more desperation now than consolement. ”N-nobodyelseknowswhatI’msayingandIhaven’tbeenabletotalktoanyoneandeverything’sscaryandIhaven’thadanyonetotalktoandIdon’tknowwhat’sgoingonandI’msorryIscaredyouandeveryonejustkeepslookingatmelikeI’mcrazybutI’mnotcrazyandohmygodit’ssogoodtohavesomeoneknowwhatI’msayingandaaaaaaaaaa!!!”
She spoke much too fast for him to even hope at catching everything she was saying, especially still dazed and confused as he was. It was just a jumble of words to him, ending in something of a sob herself that, conversely, ended up making him hug her...
If he was going to lose his mind, @#$% it. Why not play along?
The girl, small and waiflike, clung to him with a desperation that had not been present before, when he had been the one breaking down.
Quite a pair, weren’t they? Sitting in the road and taking turns weeping like children. That his mind could still suggest anything reasonable at all was a surprise to Petro, who found himself thinking idly that maybe they should move. The road was all but abandoned but there was no point in taking chances...Even though he was quite aware that as long as this little teenager was with him he was all but invincible. At least, if all of this nonsense was adding up to the picture it appeared to be.
Softly, Petro patted the girl on the back as she clung to him and babbled about how people kept yelling at her and she was always so confused and everything was really neat but also scary and nothing made sense and so on and so forth.
Abruptly, the girl pulled away from him, but grasped his shirt in a way that spoke of desperation. Her eyes - white on white, and just as infinitely depthless as he’d always imagined them - were wild and in a near panic. "C-can I come with you! Ooooh pleasepleasepleasepleaseletmecomewithyoupleaseI’llbehaveandI’lltryreallyhardnottobreakanythingandIdon’ttakeupmuchspaceand-”
Speaking without thinking, Petro gave a breathy ”Uh...y-yeah. Yeah you can-” And, predictably, he was cut off by a squealing, overjoyed alien kid blubbering out thanks and reaffirmations that she would behave and how great it all was and on, and on.
”W-we, uh...We should get outta’ the road.” He said after a while. Attentive and alert, the girl sat up straight and nodded rapidly "OhyesIthinkthat’saverygoodideayesyesdefinitely!” Then, softer and with a confused edge "How do we do that? Are we going to hide in the plants…? A-and what about-” She gestured to the big creature thing whose innards she had recently been exploring.
Despite everything, Petro couldn’t help but smile weakly. ”We’ll...uh…” HE sounded very tired, and still dazed and bewildered. ”We’ll get in the truck and, I think there’s a pull-off a few miles ahead…”
Perking up again, the girl jumped to her feet, and whirled on the white beast. "Truck! This creature’s name is Truck!” Then, half stumbling over to it, she flopped against the droopy hood with arms spread wide. "I-I’m really sorry about hurting you Truck I didn’t mean to! I-I hope you’re not mad!” Turning to look at the stiffly standing Petro she asked "Is Truck mad at me I can’t tell!”
This time, Petro actually laughed out loud. No, that’s a machine, not a creature.” He explained, brushing road grit off his hands, then taking a few more deep breaths. The girl seemed just a little abashed,stepping back from the hot hood of the truck and giggling nervously. "Oh. Okay.” She said, grinning sheepishly, brushing a lock of hair out of her eyes..
Climbing up into the cab, Petro held up a finger for the girl to wait, and she waited obediently. Of course she did. With some clumsy haste, he cleared the stuff off the passenger seat, then beckoned for her to join him, and sit in it. Jarringly, she was there in an instant. Less than an instant. That was going to take some getting used to. She was already bouncing excitedly in the seat, palms planted between legs on the downy fabric, feet just barely touching the floor.
He almost reminded her to put on her seatbelt - then realized in short order that it was a hilariously pointless thing, and she wouldn’t know how to anyway. Well, they weren’t going to run into any bears out here. The girl just stared at him with an open admiration that made Petro feel a pang of guilt for everything that had happened to her. He hoped, in the part of his mind that was apparently capable of thinking about these things, that maybe he had been merely channeling the story, and that he was not responsible for all the horrible things she had gone through.
The instant Petro’s hand touched the shifter - as he had expected she would - the questions began. "What’s that do?” It would be the first of several billion, Petro knew. He was going to have to explain every little facet of everything he did.
This was going to be a long day.
There really was a very great deal of corn in the United States.
The more he traveled, the more Petro began to wonder if maybe the corn were the real citizens of the country, and the people merely the units used to tend them. Except, that was a really stupid idea, since the corn would not genocide itself in order to feed and power the things they used to kill themselves with…
Idly, eyes focused on the dizzying road that stretched on, and on and on, Petro began to wonder about a theoretical planet populated entirely by corn. Sentient corn. And all the people just sort of sat there, in stalky rows, just...being corn. But sentient.
No, that wasn’t a good idea. He didn’t need to voice record that idea for later, like he usually did with the revelations of writing that usually came only when he could focus on his work and let his mind run free. Or, relatively free. Focusing on driving let him use the unused portion of his brain for coherent thoughts, instead of the random jumbles of nonsense that were usually rattling around in there.
Not that thoughts about sentient corn could really be considered coherent...
For miles on end, the road continued. Petro proceeded. The GPS in the corner of his eye read that there were sixteen hours left to go. Maybe he’d stop within the hour and take a break, work on that p-
But his thoughts were interrupted when every driver’s worst nightmare came true before his eyes.
The sound was horrendous. Like a sack of meat being bludgeoned at a seventy mile velocity. A sickening thump unlike anything he had ever heard. Once, he’d hit a deer. But this sound was so much worse. For the thing he had struck was not a hearty woodland creature. It was a small, fleshy sack of fragile life, which he had now destroyed. The truck barely even lurched with the impact. Nor could he feel when the thig - the person - he had struck went under.
It was dreamlike - or, rather, nightmarish. What could not be happening was happening. Oh god. Oh godohgodohgod-
Conscious thought left him, and his body acted as though it were piloted by someone else. Someone who knew what they were doing. Immediately he slammed on the breaks, habitually tapping them to keep them from locking up and making things even worse as he guided the vehicle into the breakdown lane. It took almost a quarter of a mile for the heavy thing to come to a stop.
He was out of the cab and sprinting back then, heedless as to whether he had even set the brakes or put on his hazard flashers, and being forced to trust in his own habits, that he had done it without thinking. All that mattered now was - was - No, there was no chance any earthly life could have survived that impact, but he had to try, had to do something-
Then, Petro found himself standing in the middle of the desolate road. He was looking around at silent fields of gently waving corn, and wondering idly what he was doing there. Had he been looking for something…?
Again, it hit him - with the same force that he had hit- oh god - the claw of terror gripped his whole body -
But there was nothing there. Still in a panic, the idea was taking a long while to process - but sure enough, yes - or, no - or, yes, there was nothing there. No body. No blood. No little pile of mashed viscera with crimson tire tracks tapering to a fade along the hot, ashy road. Surely he must have just missed it - Petro whirled back and forth, searching wildly. Was he in the right place? Glancing back down the road, he could see the flashing lights at the rear of his trailer. He had run for at least a half mile, maybe a little more. So then maybe he had run past the scene?
Numbly, his whole body trembling and moving with a lurch that seemed disturbingly mechanical, Petro began to make his way back toward the truck. The road was perfectly flat - he should have been able to see...something. He was certain that the one he had hit had gone under the truck. So then where…?
Then, he was leaning on the hot, slightly rusty metal of the trailer itself. Had he blanked out and just missed it again? No, think - no, he hadn’t. There had been nothing there.
Another numbly simplistic idea occurred to him, and he stumbled the seventy-or-so feet back to, then in front of the big white cab, grabbing on to the stem of his nose-mounter mirror just to keep upright. Surely there would be a horrific mass of entrails clinging to the grill, maybe the lifeless, twitching corpse of-
Nothing.
Just a couple bugs.
One did look a bit larger than the others, but...Nothing. There was nothing there. He hadn’t hit anything at all.
Trying to breathe, Petro fell to sit, hunched and legs outstretched, on the hot road, heedless of discomfort. He gripped his head, staring at the little cracks and grooves in the pavement as if they might have held the answer.
A hallucination?
It wasn’t unheard of. There had been times when he’d pulled over and called it quits for seeing people that weren’t there out of the corner of his eye, or mistaking stationary objects for people - usually late at night, when he was very tired. But it was midday, and he had slept great. So what in the actual @#$% was going on?
His heart pounding, his mind numb and stupid with shock and terror, Petro just sat there, and stared at nothing. Vaguely, he perceived movement from his windshield. That did not make any sense, but-
And before he could waste any more time pondering this, the world exploded with sound loud enough to vibrate him down to the bone as his own air horn blared with all the force and fury of a train whistle screaming close enough to touch it. Entirely against his will, Petro shrieked in a decidedly unmasculine fashion. And once silence had returned, the deafening ring of tinnitus threatened to split his brain in two - but the driver ignored it. He ignored everything - everything except the figure of the person sitting in his driver’s seat.
It was a girl. Fifteen or sixteen years old with pale, nearly white skin, a white T shirt, and a wild, feathery mess of white-blonde hair flaring out beneath an incongruous black baseball cap, which Petro distinctly knew had been harvested from the end of time and brought back to the beginning, to spur on the creation of the universe.
What the actual-
This was a very interesting place!
It was small and enclosed, and it had recently plowed through her at a very high speed, but now it was not moving. It rumbled and vibrated slightly, which she found to be comforting. There were chairs in the front, where the walls became clear forcefields of something cool to the touch. Behind the chairs, there was a bed, and some cabinets, and a black box and a flat black thing mounted on the wall. There were some other interesting things too, and she was tempted to poke and prod at all of them.
But her attention span would not allow for the thorough examination that she wanted to give to every small object. There were just so many new things! New and interesting things. Buttons and knobs with all different lights and colors glowing prettily on the short-wall under the slanted glass forcefield, and a big wheel on a stick that she could turn, though it did not appear to have any function that she could determine. One of the knobs had made cold air woosh from a little slotted thing, and another turned lights in the ceiling on and off.
Thin sheets of paper with horizontal blue lines, evenly spaced, hung all together on a tiny metal coil, and there was some kind of cribbly writing between the spaces that she guessed was either words, or art. Probably art. There was a toggly-button to the side which made the forcefield descend! That one had startled her a bit, and she had hastily pressed the button the other way to make it go back up.
There were pedals on the floor. Three of them. Not unlike the blonde in the ancient story, she decided to try all three, one at a time. The first gave some resistance, and appeared to do nothing. The second gave a bunch of resistance, and when she pulled her booted foot back there was a sudden hiss that made her yelp. The third one though, was the easiest to push down - and the instant she did, the thing roared at her! That freaked her out. With another yelp, the girl pulled her legs up onto the seat and sat huddled, staring with wide, white-ringed eyes at the nose of the thing.
Clearly this thing was not a thing, but a creature. She was inside some kind of creature! And it was not at all happy with her pushing those pedals. It had hissed at her, then roared when she’d continued.
But some time passed, and the creature only rumbled. Gradually, the girl’s courage returned and she continued looking around the inside of the creature-thing.
This was, after all, presumably someone else’s thing. She figured that, because there was a lot of stuff inside the thing, and generally anywhere that people were, she found lots of stuff. Nifty stuff. The seat on the right side - she assumed it was the right, since both seats were facing the same direction - had a bunch of stuff on it, and she assumed that it was not sat in as much as the one on the left. It also did not have a big turny-wheely-thing, which made it seem somehow less important.
She was about to start poking at the things resting there when she noticed that on the floor in front of it were two bowls - one filled with water, the other with little brown pellets. Strange and interesting. Just like everything else.
Poking her head into the big place behind the seats, she looked at the bed. There were comfortable looking sheets of cloth and rectangular soft things that seemed to be stuffed with something else that was soft. Idly, she pondered if maybe she should take a nap, then decided against it. That would be silly. And besides, there was already someone - oh!
How she had not noticed the little creature was beyond her. But then, a lot of things were beyond her. It was positively delightful.
It lay on the bed, curled into a little ball, looking at her with wide, beady eyes behind a long snout and beneath huge ears that would have been pointy had they not flopped down halfway up. It had a long body and short, stubby legs, and a long, worm-like tail, and blunt little claws on the foot-was. It was wearing a pink necklace, with a little dangly bit. It was covered in coarse, beige fur, with a little white patch between the eyes.
Delighted, the girl made a small, squeaky sound and waved her hand at it, a huge, wide smile on her pale face. The creature just stared impassively at her. It was not one of the small, bushy-tailed creatures that attacked her when she tried to touch them. She did not like those creatures one bit. This one seemed friendly, though. Carefully, the girl inched forward, hand outstretched, and poked it on the end of the long snout. It blinked, and continued staring at her. She patted it hesitantly on the head. It blinked again, not seeming bothered.
And so she spent a few moments there, rubbing the creature’s furry head. It seemed fine with this and she probably could have sat there all day petting the creature if the sound from behind hadn’t startled her. IT was a soft chime, followed by an artificial sounding voice saying something in the weird language these people spoke. Whirling, the girl moved back to the seat and flopped into it.
Was the creature - the big creature-thing, within which she and the smaller creature currently sat - trying to communicate with her? To tell her something?
Momentarily, she wondered if the small creature in the back was the one who lived inside the larger creature-thing. Maybe the creature-thing only moved when the small one demanded it? It made sense. She could imagine the creature sitting where she was and watching the scenery go by.
For some moments, the girl sat there, waiting for the big creature-thing to say something else. But it did not. And as soon as she noticed the dangly thing, all thoughts of communication with the creature-thing fled to the back of her mind. She was entranced. It was a short, black braided rope tied off with a little metallic button, and it dangled from the ceiling right above the left forcefield. Without thinking, the girl grabbed it and pulled-
The creature let out a deafening howl that made the girl shrink back with a shriek of her own. SHe must have hurt it, with a sound like that! She felt awful. Even though the sound had ceased the instant she released the little rope, she still felt the need to stammer a hasty barrage of apologies, even though she assumed the creature could not understand her.
It said nothing in return, but that was okay. It was probably grumpy, but it hadn’t tried to kill her or yelled at her again, so it must have been oh look a person!
She saw him through the frontal forcefield. He was a man, with a little bit of hair on his face and a lot of hair on his head. He was dressed similarly to herself, but with those blue, canvasy pants that seemed to be so popular with these people. His skin was darker than her own, but still light. He was sitting on the ground in front of the big creature-thing, and he looked...unwell. How long had he been there? Still, she was always delighted to meet new people, especially if they were nice to her. She really liked it when that happened.
So, beaming, the girl greeted the human in one of the ways she had learned - by shaking her hand, palm facing outward and fingers splayed, from side to side. She assumed he could not hear her if she spoke, given that she was inside the big creature-thing - oh, it must be his big creature-thing! That made sense. He didn’t seem angry at her for being inside, which was nice - but he did look a bit frightened.
Curiously, the girl frowned. Why was he looking so...traumatized? He didn’t wave back - just stared dumbly at her with glazed, grey eyes.
In less than an instant - literally no time at all - she was outside of the creature-thing, standing beside it and looking even smaller than usual next to it’s great girth.She looked concerned now - the person was still just staring at her with some incomprehensible blend of fear and trauma and disbelief and a whole bunch of other things that she could sense, but not put words to.
Oh, there was relief in there, too. That was good at least, right?
A little bit shyly, the girl waved again and, quietly, chirped out a little "Hello!”
The guy blinked, seeming with every second that passed to be seeing her for the first time over and over. But after a long, long time, the guy blinked, half-raised a hand and said nearly inaudibly
”.....Hello…?”
It occurred to her suddenly, with a force. Right. She kept forgetting that people always reacted strangely when she decorporealized after some kind of blunt force trauma or otherwise unintentional mauling. She kept forgetting that these were Iridiites, not the First, and that if they sustained damage, they would die the Real Death. Not quite UnBeing, she thought, but something else. The ones who had not intended to generally felt bad over it.
As the realization dawned, the girl’s eyes became wide and a little nervous under the feathery hair. She still wasn’t quite sure what to do in these situations, but she could try her best. Putting her hands up halfway in a vague gesture of placation that even she didn’t know what it meant, she stammered softly, but hastily "I-it’s okay I’m fine see? Still here! I-it only hurt a little I’m okay really!”
It was about that point that a great weight seemed to fall from the guy’s shoulders. He teared up, and the girl became a tad more frantic. "Wha- nonono don’t do that! I-I’m okay see?” She poked herself in the head as if this might prove her point. It hurt a little.
Before she knew what she was even doing, the girl abruptly scampered forward. Next thing she knew, she was sitting on the ground with him, arms wrapped around the guy as he positively bawled his eyes out. Learning that physical contact was not a sacred thing among the Iridiites had been one of the best things she had come to know about the universe. She loved that about them. That her presence and touch seemed to be of at least some comfort to him made her swell inside with a strange pride. Made her all warm and fuzzy. She said things, softly. "It’s alright. Everything’s okay, I promise.” and they seemed to help. She repeated them sometimes too. He didn’t seem to mind.
She kept thinking of the old man. How she had bawled her eyes out and clung to him, and how great it had felt. She missed him.
She wasn’t sure how long she had been there with him, but it seemed to be a very long time. No other big creature-things went past them the whole time. Just them, out there, in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by stalky vegetation in neat rows for as far as the eye could see.
Eventually, the guy’s sobbing ceased, and the two sat in silence, with only the wind for company. The wind, and the big creature thing, which seemed not to mind waiting.
And when he at last did speak, the girl pulling slowly away and flopping into a cross-legged position in front of him, he sounded like was feeling better. He smiled weakly.
”Are you...feeling better?” She asked hesitantly, ready to tackle him if he started crying again. She wasn’t sure why she had been talking to him this whole time. He couldn’t understand her. Her language was a dead one. Nobody could understand her. But at least the inflection of her voice seemed to get across-
”I’ll live.” He croaked weakly, but with an overtone of wan optimism. ”I…@#$% I thought…” Hastily, the girl nodded. "I-it’s okay, this happens a lot!” She said, "Really! Yesterday I got squished under a big, uh, thing that moved and-” As with most things the girl came to learn, she realized it suddenly and just a bit later than she should have.
"Y-you…You can understand me!!” She yelped, eyes like saucers. ”Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod this is amazing!” Beaming, with a loud squeal of absolute joy, the girl suddenly lunged toward him again, wrapping him in a much tighter hug and clinging to him with more desperation now than consolement. ”N-nobodyelseknowswhatI’msayingandIhaven’tbeenabletotalktoanyoneandeverything’sscaryandIhaven’thadanyonetotalktoandIdon’tknowwhat’sgoingonandI’msorryIscaredyouandeveryonejustkeepslookingatmelikeI’mcrazybutI’mnotcrazyandohmygodit’ssogoodtohavesomeoneknowwhatI’msayingandaaaaaaaaaa!!!”
She spoke much too fast for him to even hope at catching everything she was saying, especially still dazed and confused as he was. It was just a jumble of words to him, ending in something of a sob herself that, conversely, ended up making him hug her...
If he was going to lose his mind, @#$% it. Why not play along?
The girl, small and waiflike, clung to him with a desperation that had not been present before, when he had been the one breaking down.
Quite a pair, weren’t they? Sitting in the road and taking turns weeping like children. That his mind could still suggest anything reasonable at all was a surprise to Petro, who found himself thinking idly that maybe they should move. The road was all but abandoned but there was no point in taking chances...Even though he was quite aware that as long as this little teenager was with him he was all but invincible. At least, if all of this nonsense was adding up to the picture it appeared to be.
Softly, Petro patted the girl on the back as she clung to him and babbled about how people kept yelling at her and she was always so confused and everything was really neat but also scary and nothing made sense and so on and so forth.
Abruptly, the girl pulled away from him, but grasped his shirt in a way that spoke of desperation. Her eyes - white on white, and just as infinitely depthless as he’d always imagined them - were wild and in a near panic. "C-can I come with you! Ooooh pleasepleasepleasepleaseletmecomewithyoupleaseI’llbehaveandI’lltryreallyhardnottobreakanythingandIdon’ttakeupmuchspaceand-”
Speaking without thinking, Petro gave a breathy ”Uh...y-yeah. Yeah you can-” And, predictably, he was cut off by a squealing, overjoyed alien kid blubbering out thanks and reaffirmations that she would behave and how great it all was and on, and on.
”W-we, uh...We should get outta’ the road.” He said after a while. Attentive and alert, the girl sat up straight and nodded rapidly "OhyesIthinkthat’saverygoodideayesyesdefinitely!” Then, softer and with a confused edge "How do we do that? Are we going to hide in the plants…? A-and what about-” She gestured to the big creature thing whose innards she had recently been exploring.
Despite everything, Petro couldn’t help but smile weakly. ”We’ll...uh…” HE sounded very tired, and still dazed and bewildered. ”We’ll get in the truck and, I think there’s a pull-off a few miles ahead…”
Perking up again, the girl jumped to her feet, and whirled on the white beast. "Truck! This creature’s name is Truck!” Then, half stumbling over to it, she flopped against the droopy hood with arms spread wide. "I-I’m really sorry about hurting you Truck I didn’t mean to! I-I hope you’re not mad!” Turning to look at the stiffly standing Petro she asked "Is Truck mad at me I can’t tell!”
This time, Petro actually laughed out loud. No, that’s a machine, not a creature.” He explained, brushing road grit off his hands, then taking a few more deep breaths. The girl seemed just a little abashed,stepping back from the hot hood of the truck and giggling nervously. "Oh. Okay.” She said, grinning sheepishly, brushing a lock of hair out of her eyes..
Climbing up into the cab, Petro held up a finger for the girl to wait, and she waited obediently. Of course she did. With some clumsy haste, he cleared the stuff off the passenger seat, then beckoned for her to join him, and sit in it. Jarringly, she was there in an instant. Less than an instant. That was going to take some getting used to. She was already bouncing excitedly in the seat, palms planted between legs on the downy fabric, feet just barely touching the floor.
He almost reminded her to put on her seatbelt - then realized in short order that it was a hilariously pointless thing, and she wouldn’t know how to anyway. Well, they weren’t going to run into any bears out here. The girl just stared at him with an open admiration that made Petro feel a pang of guilt for everything that had happened to her. He hoped, in the part of his mind that was apparently capable of thinking about these things, that maybe he had been merely channeling the story, and that he was not responsible for all the horrible things she had gone through.
The instant Petro’s hand touched the shifter - as he had expected she would - the questions began. "What’s that do?” It would be the first of several billion, Petro knew. He was going to have to explain every little facet of everything he did.
This was going to be a long day.
rolled 1d6 and got 4
(( I say go for it, man. I've been wanting to do another myself. I've just been too busy. ))
((Just want to say I'm really happy people are still doing this. They're a blast to read!))
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