Flashback to Day 16-Crash-Jungle-Campfire
Crash paused when Yoshika went limp. Guess that meant she had given up and was safe to put down now. So that's exactly what he did. Yoshika used her new found freedom to wiggle over to the campfire, which was a good idea in Crash's book.
Before he had to a chance though, Rex introduced himself, mentioning some guy named Sonic (why'd that name sound familiar???) and saying Crash had probably heard of him. Crash wracked his brain for a few moments, trying to remember if he had. Nope. He honestly hadn't heard of the guy before, something he communicated by way of a big shrug. Still, it was nice to meet the guy, he said by way of motioning Rex to join him around the fire.
Crash then finally proceeded to plop himself down by the fire itself to relax, Baby-T walking over to him and snuggling in under his arm. Crash though the night was alright what with the cozy firet, and it was even nicer spending it with newfound friends.
Rick offered dinosaur kebabs to accompany the spooky stories that were usually told in these kind of situations. And what the hell, Rex decided to join in on the fun. It's not like it was the weirdest thing he had done today.
"Eh, whatever. You only live once, right?" he said, sitting near the campfire.
With the group settled, Yoshika had a story to tell and boy, with her as the narrator, this was going to be one hell of a ride.
Another day, another theme to put up with. In this case, Rex had to deal with the fact that his style was out of whack. Green pants and a dark yellow jacket that smelled like bananas—more than usual, that is—plus a pink shirt. It was tacky in both senses of the word and Rex very much preferred his old clothes, torn or not.
And this whole place was a desert now, filled with sugar and chocolate. The smells were nice and a good change of pace compared to having to deal with dinosaurs but Rex wasn't exactly in the mood to eat right now. That was a pretty mean T rex Rick had cooked and he was pretty full even after having slept.
But enough of that, first things first were getting Silanea's challenge out of the way. And since there was someone that wanted to be part of that, might as well call him. Unfortunately, contacting Lewis was going to be a little harder than Rex expected.
"We're sorry; you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service. If you feel you have reached this recording in error, please check the number and try your call again" his communicator played a prerecorded messaged after trying to call Lewis' number. Well, that was it, then.
Could he really be back home right now? That would be good news, just a bit on the sad side. Either way, Rex hoped he was doing well.
Arcade stared at the robe for a few seconds. Something was odd about it, but when he glanced up at Despair, he dismissed where it came from as irrelevant.
He appreciated Despair finding him something to sleep on. For some reason, it was almost impossible for him to do anything other than wait without at least a sleeping bag to lie on top of. He had no reason to be ungrateful and question his only friend.
He nodded and laid on the robe, rolling onto his side. He wasn't sure how to respond to the news that Despair was hoping to bring Rex along. Maybe once he was fixed he'd be more tolerable. He certainly wouldn't bother Arcade with his need for heroics. There was a brief surge of pride at Despair's words, but he quickly stamped it out. He couldn't let emotions like that pollute his mind again.
For some reason, Arcade had trouble getting to sleep. Despite knowing that Despair would be right there, he was too on edge to just drift off.
Arcade was searching. He couldn't remember what he was looking for, but he knew that he had to find it. All he could do was continue to wander the desert, keeping an eye out for whatever it was he needed.
He stopped dead when he heard a voice.
"Arcade, please," it whispered. He knew it was far away, but sounded like it was coming from right beside him. Still, it was familiar. He knew the person the voice belonged to, but he couldn't figure out who's it was. He couldn't even tell if it was a man's or woman's voice.
He had to get to it. He tried to figure out where it was coming from. He had to find the person trying to talk to him.
He realized at that moment that he couldn't move. Something was stopping him, enveloping him to the point where he was practically suffocating. It was cold, he was freezing. Despite that, it felt nice. It felt like he could just let it cut him off from everything outside.
"Arcade..." the voice rang in his ears. He tried to struggle, to get to the voice that needed him. He couldn't let it down, leaving it to whatever was out in the Wasteland.
But he couldn't fight for long, not when he was cocooned by the cold. The voice was important, but to find it was terrifying. Now that he felt the cold and how it could keep everything out, he didn't want to let it get away.
He slowly relaxed into it, allowing it to smother him. It blocked out everything around him— the land, the sun, the sounds— all were just gone. He didn't have to keep looking; he could just be comforted.
"I'm here," the voice whispered. It had gotten closer. Whatever the voice was coming from, it was warm. It would melt the cold, he had to stay away from it. He started to struggle, wanting nothing more than to protect the cold around him, but the more he fought, the more hollow he started to feel.
It felt like something was painlessly removing parts from his body. Was the cold doing that? No... It wouldn't, the cold was trying to protect him. The voice was coming closer, and he was being taken apart. He continued to struggle, he had to act.
Arcade jolted awake, as usual, and noticed he was actually on a bed. So, the robe yesterday was just a bed that had been changed by the day conditions. Of course, he needed to stop questioning Despair so much. He started to get out of the bed, looking for Despair.
edited 25th Jun '17 6:03:06 AM by Skooter910
I say that aloud too sometimes, just: "man, no life."
THE SLORG!
"... Keep hold of that knowledge close to your heart, young organic. Do not allow yourself to forget it" Tester said after a slight pause. "In all the multiverse, there is perhaps no metaphorical bond stronger than the one between people who truly care for each other. That knowledge will give you strength; especially in this place, where metaphorical things can manifest in literal ways" the AI explained.
Tester was silent, and then everything in Eve's vision became fuzzy for a moment; when it passed though, nothing seemed different. "It seems the coming of the next day has passed in the physical realm. However as this is a mental realm, you will not notice the effects until you escape" Tester mentioned, speaking as if thinking out loud. "I wish you good luck, young organic. When you are again in control of your physical body, remember to try playing some games" the AI added. Then he went silent, but his screens flashed rapidly for a moment. Then Tester seemed to pixellate heavily, before vanishing.
edited 25th Jun '17 4:32:08 AM by FirockFinion
You are reading this.
For the Horde!
Ben slept peacefully throughout the night, until a sudden light woke him up. He sat up from the couch, looking around in confusion. The pillows he was curled up on looked different. They were all white and... smelled like marshmallows. He blinked in confusion, taking a tentative bite. It tasted exactly like a marshmallow! Hungry from the previous day and stressed out, he gladly indulged himself on the marshmallow pillow. He looked around seeing that a lot of other people were doing the same thing. And had differently colored clothes. He looked down at himself.
He was wearing a brown version of his usually white and green outfit
◊, with the Omnitrix having changed into a shiny green color. Out of curiosity he nibbled slightly at his collar. Chocolate. Did everyone's stuff get changed into food? It didn't matter. He had to get out there and find the Huntbug. He stood up, shaking Louie awake when he found the kid.
"Wake up, dude. We've gotta find the Huntbug who framed me," Ben explained to him. He then realized that since it was a new day there would be new challenges, and he quickly ran over to clamber up onto Miss Tairee's desk to read the plaques. He furrowed his brow and smirked a little when he saw the boss.
"Multiple fighting styles? This'll be a cinch," Ben muttered. He then saw the reward. A buffet! Sounded great! Though by the end of today he was probably gonna have an upset stomach...
Ghostfreak-in-Eve's-body had been awake all night, watching the entrance of the cave for possible intruders. Then the whole cave blurred. Ghostfreak now found himself in an abandoned Wild West saloon, and, as he saw in horror, the light was shining in brilliantly as if it had always been daytime. Ghostfreak hissed, then moved towards a darker corner of the saloon away from the light while he thought about what to do.
He had not expected it to become daytime for quite some time. This would throw a wrench into his plans.
edited 25th Jun '17 8:13:52 AM by AllHailThrall
I can still hail the Horde even though the company has shamed us. Strength and Honor even if Blizzard has neither.
In love with an Uptown Girl
Day 17 - In the Not too distant future...
"Joel?"
"Yes, Crow?"
"Where are we?"
"I think we're on a balcony."
"What tipped you off, Gypsy?"
"Now, Tom, be nice, we only just got here...."
"Hey, Cambot, you okay? Cambot's okay guys!"
"Goo job checking on him, Crow. Wait, something isn't right here...."
Joel started to feel his jumpsuit.
"Guys, hold on, I think something is wrong with my clothes...."
"Does anyone else smell that?"
"Smell what, Tom?"
"Wait, now I smell it! It smells like....like..."
"Waffles!" Crow declared.
"And hot chocolate sauce!" Tom added.
"I think I can smell some Wendy's ice cream..." Joel added.
"Actually, it smells like Joel's clothes," Crow said when he turned to Joel.
When the rest of the bots did so, they saw that Joel's clothes had now been changed to sweets and other goodies. Crow and Tom exchanged a glance while Joel looked down at himself, baffled.
"Joel? Can we have a taste?" Tom asked hopefully.
edited 25th Jun '17 8:36:25 AM by Vampireandthen
Please allow me to introduce myself, I am a man of wealth and taste. Nice to meet you, hope you can guess my name.
I think I'm a sofa
Digger - Home Sweet Home - The Candywombat
Back home (and I mean home) my mornings involved one of my parents yelling at me to wake up, probably with some "inspirational" quotes like "the early mole gets the worm", eating breakfast, then going off to work at one of the local mining camps until lunch came around.
Today, it involved me falling off the bed and almost cracking my skull because, for some insane reason, the bed was made of marshmallows and the floor was made of jawbreakers.
I pushed myself up, using the bed for support, until I pushed too hard and accidentally ripped a piece off the bed. I looked at it, as if contemplating something, then glanced at the new hole where the piece had been. "I hope I don't have to pay for that..." I mumbled with marshmallow in my mouth.
I walked downstairs, making sure to ignore the weird girl and her friend from last night, and leaned on the counter where Hartwig was, listening to the radio. Apparently the whole place had been turned into a desert, with some dessert themes thrown in. I wonder how long it took to figure that out and decide it was funny. The radio people also made a comment about their shirts, and in my half-awake state of mind, I realized my jacket was now bright pink and smelled vaguely of strawberries. Not only that, but my backpack was now a deep black color, and my pickaxe was red and blue and made of lollipops.
Oh, whoever did this was going to pay. You do not mess with a wombat's equipment.
"Hey, do you know where I can find a way to talk to the guy who runs this place?" I asked Hartwig. "Isn't there, like, a temple or a church or something around here?"
(holds pool noodle threateningly) Do you want to know what we do to artists?
I just want to help!
Arcade would find Despair settled on a chair in the front living room area of the house, merely sitting and studying the front door as though expecting someone to be walking in through it any moment. He turned his head ever so slightly when Arcade entered, and the man would be able to see that he was now wearing the clothes that he might have recognized Cole wearing. Except, rather than all the useful shades of brown, now his tunic was a soft white, with his pants a soft, almost golden color, with the red patch on his shoulder now a pastel blue.
"Good, you are awake," was all he said. "You likely require something for food. Today will be good for that." He gestured vaguely around the room. "Select something and have a bite. It would seem, from what I have been able to hear today, that our world has been created into foodstuffs today."
Arcade felt relief when he found he wasn't alone. He sighed softly when he noticed Despair's change in outfit. He hoped he wasn't in another suit; he preferred his coat. Even if it reminded him of the time he wasted with the Followers.
He checked his clothes, which seemed to be mostly unchanged. His shirt was a dark red and his pants were pitch black. He stopped when he checked his coat. It had a lot of colors, and the colors were familiar...
He turned it around, which put the lapel close enough for him to smell it. His eyes widened in realization. It was ice cream. The ice cream that Eve had gotten him on the bench in the amusement park.
He let go of the coat as his thoughts started to become more frantic. Eve, she was in danger. He promised to protect her. He was letting her stay in danger. He had to find her, had to help her.
I say that aloud too sometimes, just: "man, no life."
I just want to help!
"She is in no more danger than anyone else on this day," Despair said abruptly. "In fact, her voice is muted to me now. I suspect she managed to save herself just fine." He glanced over to Arcade. "She is perfectly strong and capable of defending herself, you realize. Why would she have needed you to protect her anyway?"
Arcade's head snapped up to Despair's. He winced and stepped back at the tone of voice he was using. "You said," He mumbled before gaining a little more confidence, "you said she was being hurt. I didn't even figure out what it was..." His voice was tinged with guilt.
"I just..." He started after a pause, "even the strongest people could use assistance." His face was pointed back at the ground at that point. He was shifting shamefully back.
I say that aloud too sometimes, just: "man, no life."
I just want to help!
"Yes. Sometimes people do need help. That is what we are going to go out and do now, isn't it? To help people? That is what you want." Despair stood, brushing himself off somewhat, apparently dismissive. "It is a noble goal, Arcade, to want to help people. But remember what I taught you. Remember how I saved you from false hopes and unachieveable dreams. Think...is that what you would offer Eve? To save her from pain, even though you and I both know that no one can ever be fully saved from it? Your mind is rebelling, trying to tell you to hope again. You know that will never work."
"I... I know," Arcade mumbled shamefully. One of his hands hesitantly raised and rubbed at his lapels. He couldn't help the memory of that bench flowing back into his mind. She was so upset, and her story...
Would she want him to do this? He blinked when that question hit him. The way he saw her when they first met, he didn't want to see her revert to that. But... He knew Despair was right. He couldn't force her to experience such fleeting happiness when he could truly help her.
Staring at the coat, he couldn't decide if he actually wanted to fix her.
I say that aloud too sometimes, just: "man, no life."
I just want to help!
Despair studied Arcade for a long moment, before walking over towards him, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder.
"I see you are still troubled over your desires. The longing for hope and for pain to leave, to still be able to live without it. It is as clear as a still pond, Arcade Gannon. Perhaps you are not ready to accept what I have given to you, after all. It is not unexpected. You have failed so much already, it would not be unexpected that you might fail at this as well. If you desire to leave this place, to try and have hope again, I cannot stop you. But you know what will happen if you go. You will only continue to fail...to bring your pains upon other people. You know that, don't you? I am offering you escape...but if you are not able to do this, I will not hold you here."
Arcade stared at Despair as he spoke, unmoving. He slowly let his hand fall from his coat, trembling slightly. His breathing increased as he tried to fight back the guilty tears. He stared at the ground trying to process what was just said.
Finally he stopped and looked back up at Despair. "You're right," he mumbled, emotionless, "I'm sorry for being so selfish. You showed me the truth and I tried to just leave. I promise I won't do that again."
I say that aloud too sometimes, just: "man, no life."
someone
Eve|Void Of Darkness|Let's Get Metaphorical On This Bitch
Eve nodded at Tester as he vanished, leaving her alone in the darkness. She closed her eyes, choosing to replace the darkness with what lay behind her eyelids. Metaphorical bonds, he had said. She focused, crossing her legs together, and filling her mind with memories. Voices, faces, smells. Anything. The touch of a hand, the sound of a voice. They whirled in her mind, blurring, overlapping.
Arcade, Ben, Caro, Lewis, Annette, Ara, Saya, Dr. Tearju, Rinslet, Train , Sven.
help me
The Void broke in two.
Eve opened her eyes.
edited 25th Jun '17 3:31:38 PM by secretlyasuperhero
[TOP SECRET]
For the Horde!
Ghostfreak winced and snarled, forced out of Eve's body. In confusion, he looked around, then quickly formed up his second skin.
"What is this?!" he hissed in anger, seeing Eve conscious again. He unleashed his tentacles, which flew towards her to pick her up, then attempted to flip her over him and slam her into the wooden floor of the building they were in. "Your resistance will only increase your pain in the long term.... give in!" Ghostfreak snarled at her.
When she seemed incapacitated, laying there badly injured, Ghostfreak lunged at her again, possessing her again. He stood up, grinning almost maniacally. He then moved towards the door with a step like a limp puppet, sick cracking with every step of the way. He looked up at the label of the saloon outside, the "Sweet Tooth Saloon", then grinned and started to head back towards the inside. He looked around for a dark and secluded part of the saloon. There was a staircase going down, and Ghostfreak, in Eve's heavily injured body, started to descend the steps into the darkness.
Once he was safe in shadows, he pulled out the smartphone Eve carried and started to set it to the City Knights' radio channel. He had a plan.
edited 25th Jun '17 3:43:13 PM by AllHailThrall
I can still hail the Horde even though the company has shamed us. Strength and Honor even if Blizzard has neither.
I just want to help!
Despair smiled...that odd, toothy smile again. "It is all right, Arcade. You see how quickly you can learn when you want to? This is good, very good, I am glad you are going to stay with me. We are going to help people, the right way, and we are going to show them how freeing true despair will be. You said you wanted us to find Rex, yes? He was a good suggestion to start with. Would you like us to be on our way now?"
someone
Eve|Void|Hope Is Cruel
Eve floated in the darkness, chained once more. But there was no screaming. Only tiny, broken whimpers.
[TOP SECRET]
Arcade leaned into Despair's touch, like a freezing man chasing the nearest heat-source. He nodded jerkily and sighed in relief. He was grateful Despair didn't give up on him completely.
"Yes," Arcade whispered, "I'd like to go now." Maybe helping to fix people would keep him from faltering again. He glanced at the coat and took it off. It was distracting him, and Despair didn't need him being distracted. And Eve didn't need him at all.
edited 25th Jun '17 3:44:29 PM by Skooter910
I say that aloud too sometimes, just: "man, no life."
Whatever happened to the master thief?
Garrett spent most of Day 16 resting (he had accrued a lot of sleep debt recently, and playing a computer game for hours without breaks had also exacted its toll,) as well as taking a few short trips into the jungle to get a breath of fresh air (he didn't really talk with anyone else all day, and was only roughly aware what was going on in the rest of the City. Apparently someone was trying to frame the shapechanging boy for murder.) And also, he thought, a lot, about what he saw in the game. It was one thing to just hear about the "bleeding effect"; quite another to experience it himself, applied to his own life.
He couldn't say he understood how this "computer game" worked—he wondered if even a master Hammerite would have fared better—but he could guess that the creators of this game had had to personally design each and every interior, plan out every street, choose the decor for each wall. And in doing so, they had recreated almost exactly the locations from Garrett's memory. The shapes were crudely carved, the layouts were slightly different (all these dead ends where familiar streets should be,) the guards looked like wooden marionettes, the bricks and wooden boards looked painted on... but it was all clearly recognizable, to the point where Garrett—apart from struggling with the controls—had little trouble cleaning out Lord Bafford's in-game mansion, simply by drawing on his own memories of loot locations and guard patrol routes.
What would have happened, he wondered, if the creators had decided they preferred the hero to be named Gilbert? If they had decided that there should be an additional wine cellar under Bafford's mansion? Was it even possible for them to come up with anything that wasn't an echo of Garrett's own world?
Day 16 — Library
A thief is a darker patch in a lightless corner, a flicker at the edge of vision, a sudden lightness where your purse has been hanging.
A thief wears the whole world as a disguise: He is the damn rats skittering about in the basement. He is the lousy coffee making me all jittery. He is just the wind, a trick of light I guess.
A thief is an ally of the shadows, and to seal this pact he agrees to wear the shadows' colors, so that they will grant him shelter when necessary.
A thief most certainly does not wear clothes made of pink licorice.
Except for Garrett on day 17, unfortunately. He examined his new attire with resignation, then went through his inventory to confirm that the rest of his equipment was similarly transformed. According to the radio, this day's theme was based around a pun which worked only in a single language on some other world. No doubt Garrett would have found it enormously hilarious, had he spoken that language. As it was, he somehow struggled to see the humor value.
For now, he approached Miss Tairee, wanting to clear up something that'd bothered him all day yesterday.
"So about this... bleeding effect. Does this describe every single story anyone's ever come up with? Does that mean that nobody's ever actually coming up with his own ideas, and every time someone writes a book or a play, they're forced to exactly copy something that's already happened in some other world? Can't say most writers I know of would be pleased by the thought..."
"... that wasn't really a, you know, uh, scary story," said Morty lamely when Yoshika had finished her long and rather rambling story.
Rick mumbled something to himself, though it was hard to make out just what it was, as he was currently helping himself to another round of dino kebabs. "Aw shit, that's - that's good." He chewed it over, rolling the food around in his mouth with the air of a fine wine critic before swallowing. "I don't wanna be that guy - y-y-y'know, that guy - but it tastes sort of like chicken, huh? Sort of like... chicken with a.. I dunno,what to call it."
There was a pause while Rick washed ti down with a shot of liquor.
"If you think about it, w-w-we're probably the first humans to eat dinosaur meat in over 65 million years. That's - that's - that's pretty cool, really."
Waking up in a pile of baking hot sugar is not quite like any other experience one will experience in your lifetime. It's a bit like waking up in hot sand - in that it's guaranteed to kick you out of sleep mode pretty much immediately and into "holy shit I think I may have first degree burns" mode rather quickly - but the crunchy, grainy, angularity of sugar sticks to the sweaty skin in a horrible aftereffect. It's like sand in your bathing suit times a thousand. As it is such an uncommon occurance on Earth, really no words in the human lexicon that can properly describe the sheer nastiness of what it's like to suddenly come to consciousness on a pile of hot sugar. There are still fewer words that can properly encapsulate what it's like to go to bed on cool Cretaceous soil and wake up in the aforementioned hot sugar.
Morty had scarcely finished doing his strange, frenetic little dance on the sand, randomly slapping bits of the hot stuff off his skin, when he realized that something was wrong. The stuff that he had immediately assumed was sand was - well, it wasn't sand, it was grainy and crunchy and felt entirely wrong, yet, at the same time, oddly familiar... The fact that his normal yellow shirt was now a rather garish shade of lemonade pink would have taken greater precedence in his mind if it wasn't for the thing that he spotted, looming just in the distance in silhouette.
At first he thought it was a tree - a palm tree, even, to go with the desert theme - but something was wrong. No tree trunk was that straight and uniform, and no tree had leaves and branches that were that round, or that peculiar mixture of pastel. It was... it was...
.. no. It was... it was just... it was too stupid. Even after a day of being chased by dinosaurs, a day trapped in outer space with all-too-inquisitive alien invaders, a day underwater fighting sea monsters and terrorists, Morty had finally found a part of his mind that just refused to accept what he was looking at.
"LOLLIPOP?!" he screamed at the top of his lungs: a scream borne of confusion, frustration, and sheer rage that the mad god playing Yahtzee with his fate kept throwing increasingly ridiculous things at him with nary a care for his mental well-being.
edited 25th Jun '17 4:26:49 PM by Locoman
Dark Sun, what choices have I...?
(.......................................)
I felt like lead.
I'd never been sedated before, not as far as I knew, but I imagined this was roughly comparable. Why, though? I thought I felt something else besides the weight on my being, but it was hard to make out.
I tried looking around me, feeling an additional weight around a neck I didn't remember having. Still I managed, if sluggishly, and for that, I was greeted with a sea of red strings, all with a unique ethereal quality to their appearance. They seemed to stretch on infinitely in all directions, with no end in sight.
I tried to go up and examine one, but found myself unable to. Looking, I realized I was bound, inch-by-inch, with those same strings, suspended with my arms pulled apart. It was hard to tell under the mass of red, but I seemed to be dressed in mostly purple with some white thrown in, on top of being...a normal human?
Struggling didn't help and mostly just left me exhausted. Was I supposed to be capable of fatigue? Not that I expected anyone to be around, but I called out and oh never mind I was gagged too. Of course. I kept trying to get out, but it was such a slog to even move and I was sure it was getting me nowhere, but I dreaded the idea of stopping...
"Love, why are you trying to run?" rang a voice, barely audible but distinctly sonorous, harmonious. I knew it from somewhere, though it didn't click where, and for a moment I was tempted to give up and be at ease. But...no, I couldn't. I kept going, but I was just...so tired...
I don't know how long I was at it, just that it felt like an eternity, but eventually I got too exhausted to keep trying and stopped to rest...and caught sight of a girl, oddly translucent and enviably unbound, pushing her way past the strings with a look of intrigue. After a while she stopped and stood where she was, staring in my direction.
I stared back for a few moments, trying to see if she'd do something, before struggling to try and get her to help me. Hopefully she was corporeal.
Taking the hint, she pulled a knife from a pouch at her side, coming over and doing as I'd hoped. "Don't worry, I'll get you out of there!"
I relaxed at the sound of her cutting away at the strings, dare I say slumping a little, watching her and allowing myself to regain some of my lost energy.
Then I noticed she was a little short. Was she gonna be able to reach all these? I looked at one hand and attempted, without much luck, to pull it toward her, making noise through the gag.
She looked up at me, and then at the mass of strings holding me in place, and then after a while gathered her resolve to start climbing where she could reach. The damn things bending under her weight against the pull of their opposite counterparts made for an uncomfortable (though not painful, odd considering it probably should have been) squeezing sensation, and I yelped as she climbed up. Still, she managed to get high enough to pull away at the gag. It put up a lot of struggle, but eventually came loose enough for her to remove.
I let out a sigh of relief at having that much of me freed.
"T...hanks..." I said sluggishly.
"Don't thank me yet, I need to get you out of there first," she responded.
She managed to free the arm I'd indicated after some time. At this point I felt not dead tired and less weighed down, enough to flex that hand out of an instinctive urge to exercise my newly-regained mobility. Though, it didn't escape me that with that arm freed the strings she was climbing on were getting less stable.
"So, what is this?"
"You tell me," she answered, moving on to the other arm. Well, that got us nowhere.
"Well, if I knew, I wouldn't be asking. I guess you're as clueless as I am, then."
I tried to think of a line of conversation that wouldn't be completely pointless, not coming up with a whole lot.
"You got a name, miss?"
"Chise, Chise Hatori."
"Chise..." Had I heard that before? It sounded like a name I might have heard in passing once...I supposed it was probably nothing. "That's a nice name. It sounds Japanese. I'm—"
About as soon as she'd released my other arm, the bundle of strings she was using to reach collapsed under her. Automatically, I tried to catch her but didn't quite manage to grab her before she landed on an invisible floor. "A-are you okay? You didn't...stab yourself or anything?"
She lay there for a few moments before getting up, and when she did I could see that she did, in fact, stab herself. The blade had lodged in her shoulder, and while it didn't seem to bother her it clearly bled when she pulled the knife out.
"I'm...I'm fine, just hold on a little longer," she said as she continued hacking away, made easier by the more solid footing underneath her.
"...You're sure?" I said, leaning forward as best as I could to look at her bleeding shoulder.
"Don't worry about it," she answered, sounding like she was trying to be reassuring.
"I guess..."
While she insisted otherwise, I still couldn't help but be concerned about that shoulder. On the other hand, I supposed there was not much I could do about it anyway, so maybe it was best I just ignore it, at least for now.
"I'm Lewis," I told her, extending a hand for her to shake. "...Pepper," I added after a moment of deliberation, figuring I might as well give her my last name since she gave me hers. Wow. Now that I said it out loud, my full name sounded kinda silly.
That gave her pause.
For a while she froze up, wide-eyed like something had just hit her, before staring at me, as if trying to read me somehow. Did she...know me? But she didn't seem to recognize me when she first got here, and I felt like I'd remember her if we'd met after...well. Maybe she'd heard of me secondhand? But would that mean...?
I decided it'd be best not to comment on it for now.
"Well, um...Nice to meet you, Mr. Pepper," she said, sounding a little confused, though she shook my hand anyway.
i guess you can watch me shitpost i guess
I just want to help!
Despair smiled again, nodding. "Then let us be on our way. I can find Rex easily enough..."
He turned his head abruptly, tilting his head to one side as though hearing something. "That is...hmm. Another voice, another person calling out. There are so many today...this city is filled with people who need our help."
He reached out to take hold of Arcade's hand, starting for the door and outside again. "Let us be on our way."
She slowly and carefully made her way to the campfire along with the rest, avoiding looking for too long at Rick's golden cargo, and took meat along with the rest. But, what got her talking was the promise of...
"...Story time? Uhh...I don't usually do that? But I think I got one."
So, Yoshika and Seiga were at a movie theatre. Because Seiga wanted to go see a movie before it came out on the television, and Yoshika didn't really understand why they don't just release movies at the same time everywhere but that was beside the point. They watched it and it was about some tiny people and Yoshika got surprisingly scared when a monkey appeared and made extremely loud noises.
So Yoshika got excused to go stand outside so Seiga could finish watching it, and there was a guy who was standing out there and told her that kids couldn't be left alone in the theatre, so she had to go stand outside, and then some water splashed on her from a passing car. She was soggy and unhappy. But then she went in about a minute afterward after she forgot what she was afraid of in the first place. The rest of her story related her best guess as to the plot of a third movie about the narrative involving children's playthings.
As you might've guessed, she lost the notion that it was supposed to be a scary story, or even an exciting story, immediately.
"...So, uhh, I guess that means people don't get to take things to college," she concluded. "Was it already day when we started this?"
No, wait, Lewis wasn't doing that, he wasn't ░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░
The party had begun to wind down after a while, and everyone was simply conversing. Her children talked about their lives, Rex was amiably conversing with the person who had cannibalized him despite missing all flesh below the waist, and Seiga and Huo were on the couch, talking to one another. Eventually, Huo leaned in to whisper something in her ear, and Seiga responded with even more blushing and a playful slap.
But, the atmosphere began to change. Everyone had left. Seiga was alone in the room. It took her a minute to realize, as the scattered remains of a very well-enjoyed party stretched out before her, that she probably wouldn't be able to celebrate like that ever again.
Deserty. That was going to be her guess.
Her very simple estimation didn't include how, as she looked down at herself, her change of attire wasn't a trick of the light.
◊
Her dreams...they were quickly being forgotten, and she was already losing detail as she tried to recall them, but it felt nice. But, they'd be forgotten even sooner as she remembered the very pressing business they had today.
She stretched out her arms, and lightly jostled her servant's leg. "Hello, Lewis, it's time to get up. We've got a busy day ahead of us~"
edited 25th Jun '17 12:32:22 AM by wikkit