- Location
- Phoenix, Arizona
- Pronouns
- She/Her
[X] The Old Foundryman
-
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The Place Between
- Thread starter occipitallobe
- Start date
- Original Sci-Fi Fantasy
Rolen von Keng
Sleeping Green Bear
- Location
- The Wilderness
[X] The Saxon Fyrdsman
- Location
- Central Standard Time
[X] The Old Foundryman
Sure. I'll bite.
Sure. I'll bite.
The Darkness
- Location
- Straya
You look down at your ruined hand. Three fingers gone and two barely usable, the thumb so scarred that it can barely move. The burns were terrible, and ever since then you lived on the goodwill of your beloved son.
Arthur had always told you there was enough, that he would take care of you. At sixty-four you knew this was false, and growing falser by the day. Maria had a difficult birth, and your sixth grandchild lived only for a week. She needed extra care, and while you walked about the streets looking for some way to make a shilling it so rarely happened. An old man with one hand had few enough recourses.
As you land, you can't help but think of him. He would mourn you, but better that than the children being consumed by you and your needs. Your bad hand shakes a little, but you will it still. You had made the choice, now to see where it has taken you.
You have landed somewhere most peculiar. It is a mass of land incredibly dark, and the dirt spills through your fingers with ease. It is fine, finer than sand, and yet you can lie upon it with no issue, at no risk of being sucked under. In the sky endless stars shine, each of them looking exactly the same as fissure you had come from. You do not think you are returning up there. At least, you can see no way to do so.
"Come on Norton, old fellow", you mutter to yourself. "Up you get."
You rise unsteadily to your feet, and the land supports you with ease. You can dig your hand into the dirt and pick up a handful of it as easily as scooping water from a lake, and yet it resists your footsteps.
You walk forward a few paces, seeing up ahead a small hill. You continue walking to reach the top, and beneath see a tree. Its boughs are large and its trunk thick, though it is short. The leaves upon it are black, and it is laden with apples that are a red so dark it might well be considered black. There are three rings around it, etched in pure white. The first is a thin ring perhaps an inch in width, the second nearly six, and the third ring surrounding the tree is nearly a foot and a half in width. No dirt intrudes upon the rings, and nor do the rings spill over even a jot into the dirt, being perfectly circular in nature.
You walk towards them, curious. You are very hungry, as well. The last time you ate was four days ago - Arthur had not been paid and you had given the little bread he had to Maria. She had given it back to him, and upon finding this out... well, you wish you had not said the things you had. You don't regret the decision, though.
[ ] Investigate the rings
[ ] Try and reach the apples
[ ] Go around the tree, continue on further
Arthur had always told you there was enough, that he would take care of you. At sixty-four you knew this was false, and growing falser by the day. Maria had a difficult birth, and your sixth grandchild lived only for a week. She needed extra care, and while you walked about the streets looking for some way to make a shilling it so rarely happened. An old man with one hand had few enough recourses.
As you land, you can't help but think of him. He would mourn you, but better that than the children being consumed by you and your needs. Your bad hand shakes a little, but you will it still. You had made the choice, now to see where it has taken you.
You have landed somewhere most peculiar. It is a mass of land incredibly dark, and the dirt spills through your fingers with ease. It is fine, finer than sand, and yet you can lie upon it with no issue, at no risk of being sucked under. In the sky endless stars shine, each of them looking exactly the same as fissure you had come from. You do not think you are returning up there. At least, you can see no way to do so.
"Come on Norton, old fellow", you mutter to yourself. "Up you get."
You rise unsteadily to your feet, and the land supports you with ease. You can dig your hand into the dirt and pick up a handful of it as easily as scooping water from a lake, and yet it resists your footsteps.
You walk forward a few paces, seeing up ahead a small hill. You continue walking to reach the top, and beneath see a tree. Its boughs are large and its trunk thick, though it is short. The leaves upon it are black, and it is laden with apples that are a red so dark it might well be considered black. There are three rings around it, etched in pure white. The first is a thin ring perhaps an inch in width, the second nearly six, and the third ring surrounding the tree is nearly a foot and a half in width. No dirt intrudes upon the rings, and nor do the rings spill over even a jot into the dirt, being perfectly circular in nature.
You walk towards them, curious. You are very hungry, as well. The last time you ate was four days ago - Arthur had not been paid and you had given the little bread he had to Maria. She had given it back to him, and upon finding this out... well, you wish you had not said the things you had. You don't regret the decision, though.
[ ] Investigate the rings
[ ] Try and reach the apples
[ ] Go around the tree, continue on further
will408914
(slouching towards bethlehem)
- Location
- California
[X] Try and reach the apples
- Location
- Phoenix, Arizona
- Pronouns
- She/Her
[X] Investigate the rings
Olivebirdy
mook.
[X] Try and reach the apples
We're literally starving.
We're literally starving.
[X] Try and reach the apples
- Location
- United States
[X] Investigate the rings
[X] Try and reach the apples
- Location
- Straya
The White Flesh
- Location
- Straya
While you are hungry, you're not hungry enough to ignore the mystery of the rings.
You reach down and touch one, and in a moment the white turns to black, the purity of the ring fading into the unbelievably dark soil.
Around your ruined hand, on the littlest finger, there is a small ring of white. Flesh coloured like a corpse, with an unnatural pallor. At what used to be your second finger-joint, the ruined remains of your finger all turn the purest white, the tip of the healed-over nub being the only thing that retains its natural colour.
You poke at it, and feel nothing. You poke a little harder, and a droplet of blood comes out, or what you think might be blood.
For from the finger comes a droplet of pure white blood, like a single tear of viscous milk. It drops onto your hand, and disappears - leaving a small white mark on your hand, coloured the same as the finger.
You press your other finger into it. You feel nothing.
Worried, you avoid the other rings.
You step over them both, and reach the tree. The dark-red apples entice you, but the white rings...
You can't make a decision. Hunger battles with fear of the unknown, and neither out for the moment. You strain your thoughts, trying to make a decision.
[ ] Eat an apple
[ ] Take an apple
[ ] Move onwards without the apples
You reach down and touch one, and in a moment the white turns to black, the purity of the ring fading into the unbelievably dark soil.
Around your ruined hand, on the littlest finger, there is a small ring of white. Flesh coloured like a corpse, with an unnatural pallor. At what used to be your second finger-joint, the ruined remains of your finger all turn the purest white, the tip of the healed-over nub being the only thing that retains its natural colour.
You poke at it, and feel nothing. You poke a little harder, and a droplet of blood comes out, or what you think might be blood.
For from the finger comes a droplet of pure white blood, like a single tear of viscous milk. It drops onto your hand, and disappears - leaving a small white mark on your hand, coloured the same as the finger.
You press your other finger into it. You feel nothing.
Worried, you avoid the other rings.
You step over them both, and reach the tree. The dark-red apples entice you, but the white rings...
You can't make a decision. Hunger battles with fear of the unknown, and neither out for the moment. You strain your thoughts, trying to make a decision.
[ ] Eat an apple
[ ] Take an apple
[ ] Move onwards without the apples