ReedRGale
Inkling Commander
@Aykorn and @Hesoca
@Banshee
@Rustic
@VeryButter
((Have any questions? Did I misrepresent your character? Contact me via PM or Discord. Otherwise, please mind the deadline.))
Reminders:
Posts are Due: Sept 1st
Gm Post will be Made: Sept 2nd
Wade and Max ==> Go To: Metallic Screeching Tunnel
"Better keep up, then. I ain't slowing down if you all stagger behind."
At Max’s behest, the group--Jax, seemingly indifferent, and Wade in agreement--took a sharp turn to the left in pursuit of the odd sound.
Sure enough, as the trio went down the pathway, the noise got more poignant. More grating. Their flashlights each aimed down the pathway converged in unison on something slick and slimy.
As they got closer, the source of the noise became clearer. Ten worm-like, glossy tendrils were pressed up against the surface of the tunnel, equidistant from each other, working like muscled limbs to hold up a cylindrical piece of biotechnology: a drilling machine. But this time, it was operational.
The smell of dank earth filled the air with rot and must. Those fleshy appendages undulating as their muscles rotated the tool, boring out the earth, sending dirt flying everywhere.
Through the dusty air, the group could see the back of the machine. Upon it was a panel, solid steel, protecting the internal workings from the debris it was flinging everywhere.
The group began to cough, but that was drowned out by the sheer decibel intensity of the equipment. Jax pointed toward the machine once he realized that no one could hear him saying… something. What could he want?
What now?
"Better keep up, then. I ain't slowing down if you all stagger behind."
At Max’s behest, the group--Jax, seemingly indifferent, and Wade in agreement--took a sharp turn to the left in pursuit of the odd sound.
Sure enough, as the trio went down the pathway, the noise got more poignant. More grating. Their flashlights each aimed down the pathway converged in unison on something slick and slimy.
As they got closer, the source of the noise became clearer. Ten worm-like, glossy tendrils were pressed up against the surface of the tunnel, equidistant from each other, working like muscled limbs to hold up a cylindrical piece of biotechnology: a drilling machine. But this time, it was operational.
The smell of dank earth filled the air with rot and must. Those fleshy appendages undulating as their muscles rotated the tool, boring out the earth, sending dirt flying everywhere.
Through the dusty air, the group could see the back of the machine. Upon it was a panel, solid steel, protecting the internal workings from the debris it was flinging everywhere.
The group began to cough, but that was drowned out by the sheer decibel intensity of the equipment. Jax pointed toward the machine once he realized that no one could hear him saying… something. What could he want?
What now?
@Banshee
Alga ==> ~~Hold Back Tears~~ go to: home
==> go to: home
==> please let me go home
This was all too much. The action, the sudden mystery, the danger, the new friends, the loss of one of them. It was just too much.
Alga just wanted to go home. She wanted to be in her bed. She wanted to eat something with her grandparents. What were they doing now? They were probably worried.
Her breathing got heavier and harder. Her blood was pumping, but not with adrenaline. This was a more overwhelming feeling. A type of fear. There was so much bigger than her. There was so much that could happen to her.
Alga was about to squeak out something about going home when Felix said, “nah. Ya ain’t in no position ta ‘elp us. Ya should stay ‘ere. We’ll figure out wha’ ta do wit’cha after we get back. ‘ang tight, Puddle.”
A sigh of relief. And back to the blur.
She was alone. She knew that. Somehow she got herself back to her room. This bed would do. For now. But she wanted to be home. Where she knew it was safe. Where there wouldn’t be all these expectations.
She crawled in. It was soon warm. It felt safer.
Tucked in her covers was the book she had taken from the Squid Sisters’ library only a day ago. She found herself clutching it. Hugging it tight. It was something to hold, at least.
What now, Alga?
==> go to: home
==> please let me go home
This was all too much. The action, the sudden mystery, the danger, the new friends, the loss of one of them. It was just too much.
Alga just wanted to go home. She wanted to be in her bed. She wanted to eat something with her grandparents. What were they doing now? They were probably worried.
Her breathing got heavier and harder. Her blood was pumping, but not with adrenaline. This was a more overwhelming feeling. A type of fear. There was so much bigger than her. There was so much that could happen to her.
Alga was about to squeak out something about going home when Felix said, “nah. Ya ain’t in no position ta ‘elp us. Ya should stay ‘ere. We’ll figure out wha’ ta do wit’cha after we get back. ‘ang tight, Puddle.”
A sigh of relief. And back to the blur.
She was alone. She knew that. Somehow she got herself back to her room. This bed would do. For now. But she wanted to be home. Where she knew it was safe. Where there wouldn’t be all these expectations.
She crawled in. It was soon warm. It felt safer.
Tucked in her covers was the book she had taken from the Squid Sisters’ library only a day ago. She found herself clutching it. Hugging it tight. It was something to hold, at least.
What now, Alga?
@Rustic
Canchi and It ==> Talk
"Uh... can you get the shell out of my head?" He asked aloud, wiping his hand on his jacket.
"Uh... no?" the voice responded. "Funny how you'd tell the only real part of you to 'get out of your head.' I am your head numbnut! And your body and every other part of you!"
It was right. It was wrong. Canchi was sure he wasn't sure which. The truth was no longer with him.
Canchi shook his head, clearly the voice doesn't have any manners. Then again, he didn't exactly ask It with manners in mind.
But he wondered about Its statement, "Wait, what do you mean by the only 'real part' of me?" He asked, "and you're not me, you're someone else, and this body's meant for this kid and this kid only."
"I meant what I meant what I meant," the voice replied. "I'm real, and nothing else is. Not that floor, not that ink I noticed, not those jars of people. None of it. Not to you. Not to me,” It huffed. “I'm real. Obviously."
No. Manners. At. All.
What was most worrying, though, was that as the voice spoke, he noticed two things. It wasn't just in his head as he'd believed. He was speaking aloud. It was speaking aloud.
Not only that, the voice was moving his body to accentuate what It said... just as Canchi would. But it wasn't him. He wasn't doing it.
It's not real. It can't be.
No. No. This isn't right, not in the freaking slightest.
He vaguely recalled seeing everything else before he even had the voice. The glass containers, the stones, the essences of all those people. Canchi knew that he saw everything, but maybe that book was influencing everything he saw before then.
It wasn't him, It can't be him. He was him, It was It. Simple, but things simply weren't going to be that way, weren't they. Canchi groaned, slouching a bit as he lamented the... person? Him? It? Whatever, the thing inside him now.
"Well, where are we then?" He asked.
"Why does it matter?" his own mouth answered. "This is just one more thing that isn't real. Not to you."
He could feel himself rolling his eyes. "If you really care... maybe think about where you were beforehand. Then think about the person who gave you this," it went on, twirling the gun around his finger, "said about you being in danger. Which also doesn't matter now."
"Maybe connect one dot. And another dot. And then maybe there's a picture??" He waved his hand at a sky it seemed to be pretending was there. "Then maybe you'll realize what you're trying to figure out. Not. That. It. Matters. None of it's real. Not to you."
> Unfamiliar Feeling (Charismatics + Savvy)
> Modifiers: What the-- (-3)
> Base Pool 7 ==> Dice Pool 4
> 2 Successes...?
As it explained... Canchi could feel something odd. Not the other... thing inside him. It was his body. His finger, the one that had just moments ago been twirling the gun, seemed less... there. He could see through it. And with it, the gun seemed less... real.
It didn't change in how it looked. It didn't change in what it felt like. It was just something he /knew./ Then gun wasn't as real as it should have been. His finger was less real than his hand.
Well. Yup. He was losing it.
"Well, other me, if none of this isn't real. Then that door clearly isn't real," Canchi said, walking towards the door.
"Let's go," he added, twirling his gun in the air.
"It kind of works like that. It kinda doesn't work like that," it told him. Putting the gun away, Canchi reached out to the door. First, with the hand he felt was 'real.'
"No, no, no," his voice said, "no, it doesn't work like that. Let me show you." And outside his control, his other hand, with the 'unreal' fingers reached forward.
And his fingers simply phased through.
"I wouldn't go in there though," it told him. "That room is as real as it gets. The more you read, the more reality will accept you. Or reject you. After all, it already has. Oh well."
Canchi pulled his fingers back, looking from them, to the door, then back to his fingers. They were 'real' again. That he could tell.
Well that was pointless.
At least it's simply in control of his body and not projecting any actual form. Now that'd be sketchy, Canchi thought, hoping that it didn't know what he was thinking.
It was a comforting thought, but he wanted to put this to the test one more time.
"Sure, sure. Now get out of me," and without any prior warning. Canchi stuffed his hand into his mouth to attempt to throw up this unwanted visitor. He threw up all that ink, maybe it was his ink and someone else just holed up inside after it was done.
He gurgled. It gurgled. Pulling on something, he involuntarily gagged and puked. Acid. Nothing else. Whatever ink had come out before was... unnatural.
But with the acid also came his hand and It spoke again. "No, no, no. I don't leave. You don't leave. I'm real. Capishe?"
... It didn't seem to be trying to hurt him per se. It didn't try to hit him, or actively hamper him. But... It wasn't him. And It wasn't going.
"Yeah, if you're so real. Then what's my Mom's maiden name?"
And while he hit It with that, he knew he was gonna regret this. But he went straight to the malfunctioning door and stuck his 'unreal' hand in between it.
This was gonna suck.
"Spira," It answered, immediately. "And you can keep going. I know. You know. I know you know. Do as you do."
And... it left. Well. It was there. It wasn't going away. It had always been there. But it wasn't him. He was him.
... He jammed his hand against the door, the one that he knew to be partially 'unreal.' But as he began, he heard an alarm go off.
Something might have noticed he was here. Or Orange was here. His fingers were in the door, clear as day, but he wasn't sure he was getting any more.
The moment he was unsure, he pulled his hand out, and 'reality' returned to it.
"Are you for eel?" Canchi groaned, slouching somewhat after hearing the alarm. Which in all honesty, was probably gonna happen sooner or later.
He just wished it was later.
Like really later. The alarm wasn't helping things at all.
"Shoot, what now..." Canchi got into a ready stance, pulling out his gun on instinct. He hoped the voice in his head had something to it besides Its comebacks.
"I don't care," It responded. "None of it's real. None of it matters. Not to you, not to me."
So... nothing. Alright then. Canchi knew there was only one entrance here: the elevator. There was still the unmarked door and the air vent. Either could lead to some sort of escape. But... the Squid Sisters were still here.
What now indeed?
"Uh... can you get the shell out of my head?" He asked aloud, wiping his hand on his jacket.
"Uh... no?" the voice responded. "Funny how you'd tell the only real part of you to 'get out of your head.' I am your head numbnut! And your body and every other part of you!"
It was right. It was wrong. Canchi was sure he wasn't sure which. The truth was no longer with him.
Canchi shook his head, clearly the voice doesn't have any manners. Then again, he didn't exactly ask It with manners in mind.
But he wondered about Its statement, "Wait, what do you mean by the only 'real part' of me?" He asked, "and you're not me, you're someone else, and this body's meant for this kid and this kid only."
"I meant what I meant what I meant," the voice replied. "I'm real, and nothing else is. Not that floor, not that ink I noticed, not those jars of people. None of it. Not to you. Not to me,” It huffed. “I'm real. Obviously."
No. Manners. At. All.
What was most worrying, though, was that as the voice spoke, he noticed two things. It wasn't just in his head as he'd believed. He was speaking aloud. It was speaking aloud.
Not only that, the voice was moving his body to accentuate what It said... just as Canchi would. But it wasn't him. He wasn't doing it.
It's not real. It can't be.
No. No. This isn't right, not in the freaking slightest.
He vaguely recalled seeing everything else before he even had the voice. The glass containers, the stones, the essences of all those people. Canchi knew that he saw everything, but maybe that book was influencing everything he saw before then.
It wasn't him, It can't be him. He was him, It was It. Simple, but things simply weren't going to be that way, weren't they. Canchi groaned, slouching a bit as he lamented the... person? Him? It? Whatever, the thing inside him now.
"Well, where are we then?" He asked.
"Why does it matter?" his own mouth answered. "This is just one more thing that isn't real. Not to you."
He could feel himself rolling his eyes. "If you really care... maybe think about where you were beforehand. Then think about the person who gave you this," it went on, twirling the gun around his finger, "said about you being in danger. Which also doesn't matter now."
"Maybe connect one dot. And another dot. And then maybe there's a picture??" He waved his hand at a sky it seemed to be pretending was there. "Then maybe you'll realize what you're trying to figure out. Not. That. It. Matters. None of it's real. Not to you."
> Unfamiliar Feeling (Charismatics + Savvy)
> Modifiers: What the-- (-3)
> Base Pool 7 ==> Dice Pool 4
> 2 Successes...?
As it explained... Canchi could feel something odd. Not the other... thing inside him. It was his body. His finger, the one that had just moments ago been twirling the gun, seemed less... there. He could see through it. And with it, the gun seemed less... real.
It didn't change in how it looked. It didn't change in what it felt like. It was just something he /knew./ Then gun wasn't as real as it should have been. His finger was less real than his hand.
Well. Yup. He was losing it.
"Well, other me, if none of this isn't real. Then that door clearly isn't real," Canchi said, walking towards the door.
"Let's go," he added, twirling his gun in the air.
"It kind of works like that. It kinda doesn't work like that," it told him. Putting the gun away, Canchi reached out to the door. First, with the hand he felt was 'real.'
"No, no, no," his voice said, "no, it doesn't work like that. Let me show you." And outside his control, his other hand, with the 'unreal' fingers reached forward.
And his fingers simply phased through.
"I wouldn't go in there though," it told him. "That room is as real as it gets. The more you read, the more reality will accept you. Or reject you. After all, it already has. Oh well."
Canchi pulled his fingers back, looking from them, to the door, then back to his fingers. They were 'real' again. That he could tell.
Well that was pointless.
At least it's simply in control of his body and not projecting any actual form. Now that'd be sketchy, Canchi thought, hoping that it didn't know what he was thinking.
It was a comforting thought, but he wanted to put this to the test one more time.
"Sure, sure. Now get out of me," and without any prior warning. Canchi stuffed his hand into his mouth to attempt to throw up this unwanted visitor. He threw up all that ink, maybe it was his ink and someone else just holed up inside after it was done.
He gurgled. It gurgled. Pulling on something, he involuntarily gagged and puked. Acid. Nothing else. Whatever ink had come out before was... unnatural.
But with the acid also came his hand and It spoke again. "No, no, no. I don't leave. You don't leave. I'm real. Capishe?"
... It didn't seem to be trying to hurt him per se. It didn't try to hit him, or actively hamper him. But... It wasn't him. And It wasn't going.
"Yeah, if you're so real. Then what's my Mom's maiden name?"
And while he hit It with that, he knew he was gonna regret this. But he went straight to the malfunctioning door and stuck his 'unreal' hand in between it.
This was gonna suck.
"Spira," It answered, immediately. "And you can keep going. I know. You know. I know you know. Do as you do."
And... it left. Well. It was there. It wasn't going away. It had always been there. But it wasn't him. He was him.
... He jammed his hand against the door, the one that he knew to be partially 'unreal.' But as he began, he heard an alarm go off.
Something might have noticed he was here. Or Orange was here. His fingers were in the door, clear as day, but he wasn't sure he was getting any more.
The moment he was unsure, he pulled his hand out, and 'reality' returned to it.
"Are you for eel?" Canchi groaned, slouching somewhat after hearing the alarm. Which in all honesty, was probably gonna happen sooner or later.
He just wished it was later.
Like really later. The alarm wasn't helping things at all.
"Shoot, what now..." Canchi got into a ready stance, pulling out his gun on instinct. He hoped the voice in his head had something to it besides Its comebacks.
"I don't care," It responded. "None of it's real. None of it matters. Not to you, not to me."
So... nothing. Alright then. Canchi knew there was only one entrance here: the elevator. There was still the unmarked door and the air vent. Either could lead to some sort of escape. But... the Squid Sisters were still here.
What now indeed?
@VeryButter
Mag ==> Go To: Kitchen
The kitchen was clean, at least. There, things were as Mag remembered them, in the places they were supposed to be. Maybe her father just hadn’t gotten to her room yet?
In any case, she began aimlessly opening cupboards. Half because she wanted to eat something, half because it was just instinct. By the time she got to the fridge, she had taken a mental note of all the things that she could eat. Unlike usual though, most things actually seemed pretty viable options.
There was some yogurt, some leftover meatloaf from yesterday, a lot of random gummy-like foods--some she was pretty sure were vitamins--cheese and crackers, some salami, a few raw vegetables, some frozen meat, noodles of a few different kinds, far too much CHR-BRU, heck, even the spices looked pretty good on their own…
There was probably more, but that was just at a cursory glance. I guess what’s your next plan Mag?
The kitchen was clean, at least. There, things were as Mag remembered them, in the places they were supposed to be. Maybe her father just hadn’t gotten to her room yet?
In any case, she began aimlessly opening cupboards. Half because she wanted to eat something, half because it was just instinct. By the time she got to the fridge, she had taken a mental note of all the things that she could eat. Unlike usual though, most things actually seemed pretty viable options.
There was some yogurt, some leftover meatloaf from yesterday, a lot of random gummy-like foods--some she was pretty sure were vitamins--cheese and crackers, some salami, a few raw vegetables, some frozen meat, noodles of a few different kinds, far too much CHR-BRU, heck, even the spices looked pretty good on their own…
There was probably more, but that was just at a cursory glance. I guess what’s your next plan Mag?
((Have any questions? Did I misrepresent your character? Contact me via PM or Discord. Otherwise, please mind the deadline.))
Reminders:
Posts are Due: Sept 1st
Gm Post will be Made: Sept 2nd
Will be Responded to in GM Post:
Do Nothing [sit back and let the story happen; useful when it would be dangerous to do things]
Shadow [use this to try to stealthily follow a target. I'll make rolls on whether you succeed or not]
Ink / Go To ______ [use this to travel from one place to another relatively quickly; ink if it's something specific, like a kettle, Go To if it's a general area]
Research [some topic; need to be in a library or have access to a computer--shellphones don't count]
Sleep [use this when there's nothing left you can do, logically, in the day]
Follow [use this to just keep together with a party member or let an NPC take the lead]
Attack [use on people or objects you intend to hurt or break, specify any weapons you might be using]
Talk [use on people you want to start a conversation with]
Call [use on a person that you want to call (talk, but when not in the area)--or a item that has a number on it to contact someone you don't know]
Will be Responded to Immediately:
Conceal [use this action on something you intend to hide on your person]
Pick Up [use this action on something you want to hold onto]
Examine/Observe [use on things that you want more details on]
Use [use on things that you intend to use in some way--please specify how you're using it]
Search For [use like examine but for things that may or may not be there]
Hide [Insert Applicable Preposition] [use to conceal oneself, usually for a short amount of time]
Do Nothing [sit back and let the story happen; useful when it would be dangerous to do things]
Shadow [use this to try to stealthily follow a target. I'll make rolls on whether you succeed or not]
Ink / Go To ______ [use this to travel from one place to another relatively quickly; ink if it's something specific, like a kettle, Go To if it's a general area]
Research [some topic; need to be in a library or have access to a computer--shellphones don't count]
Sleep [use this when there's nothing left you can do, logically, in the day]
Follow [use this to just keep together with a party member or let an NPC take the lead]
Attack [use on people or objects you intend to hurt or break, specify any weapons you might be using]
Talk [use on people you want to start a conversation with]
Call [use on a person that you want to call (talk, but when not in the area)--or a item that has a number on it to contact someone you don't know]
Will be Responded to Immediately:
Conceal [use this action on something you intend to hide on your person]
Pick Up [use this action on something you want to hold onto]
Examine/Observe [use on things that you want more details on]
Use [use on things that you intend to use in some way--please specify how you're using it]
Search For [use like examine but for things that may or may not be there]
Hide [Insert Applicable Preposition] [use to conceal oneself, usually for a short amount of time]
