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File: nothingness.jpg (56 KB, 500x375)
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Everythign around you is so gray. There is no sky, no moon, no sun, and no horizon off in the distance. There is nothing around you. You don't even know what you are, but you are sure that you, whatever you are, are you. A little annectdote comes to mind, "I think, therefore I am." You find it suits your current situation rather well.

>Keep searching for something.
>Feel around.
>Ponder some more.
>>
>>2959991
>Ponder some more.
>>
>>2959991
Take stock of self.
>>
>>2959991
>>Feel around.
>>
>>2959991
>>Ponder some more.
>>
Writing.
>>
File: purgatory.jpg (26 KB, 640x361)
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"What am I?" You ponder, trying to figure out what you are. You try to look over yourself but don't find much to see though. You're not sure you even see as your find more of the same palid gray as everything else.

With a tenative motion, you feel around and find nothing at first, but another try and you find something so much bigger than you. You don't know it's size but it just feels bigger.

"Oh? Greetings little one." The thought rings out in your mind. It's foreign. You don't recognize it, for a brief second you worry as you are perplexed by the almost pathogenic idea, but the stranger relays to you again another thought.

"Do not be afraid little one." For some reason, their presense calms you down once you got over the initial excitement.

"I am Gaia, mother of all." The voice croons. "You are a force of nature, a part of the world, and diety of sorts."

A diety? You think you like the sound of that. "You're free to whatever you want, but before you go, let me give you some advice. First, not all of the dieties are as kind as I am. Second, you can only effect within your sphere of influence. And lastly, you're free to come back home at any time~"

The sounds of waves crashing on a shore ring throughout the both of you.

"Are you ready?"

>Yes.
>No.
>"Why can't I just stay with you?"
>"I still have more questions!" [Ask them.]
>>
>>2960065
>>Yes.
>>
>>2960065
>>"Why can't I just stay with you?"
>>
>>2960065
>"Why can't I just stay with you?"
>>
>>2960065
what is my sphere of influence?
>>
"Why can't I just stay with you? I don't even know my sphere of influence!" You try to reason with her.

"Hush little one... I can't force you to leave, but I would highly reccomend you do it, because no one knows their sphere of influence until they go out into the world and experiences it for themselves. I can speak from past experience that it would severly hamper your development if you were to stay here."

A part of you feels ready to leave.

>Leave.
>Stay.
>One last question! [Ask.]
>>
>>2960175
>Leave
Can we hug her?
Let's hug her before we go.
>>
>>2960175
>Leave
>>
>>2960175
alright, mom. see you later.
>>
Writing.
>>
>>2960241
>Make friends with the acorn.
>>
File: firstWisp.jpg (244 KB, 1216x1003)
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You correct yourself, you're ready to leave now. You say farewell to your mother figure and try to give her a hug to the best of your abilities at least. Ready to leave you feel the water rushing at your feet and it starts to carry you away. The flow is soft and tender like a slowgoing brook. And the surface is calm and serene and gradually slowing.

Soon the water changes as you're drawn into something. It's almost like a whirlpool, sucking in everything around it. You should be worried, you reason, however, something innate in your body tells you it's supposed to be like this. As you enter the whirlpool the grey begins to bleed with blues, reds, and greens. A unhuman screech, the pitter patter of feet, and the sound of a baby crying echo as you fall deeper and deeper into the pool. Immersed in this maelstrom of color and sound you feel yourself almost crumbling like grains of sand, as though something deep inside your soul was being torn. Slowly things around you come into focus and you feel the grating sensation lessen.

You're in the middle of a park, sitting on a grassy hill. The sky is overcast with a lite drizzle falling down upon the world below. The air is filled with the purr of engines and the light chatter of people walking by. The raindrops bounce off a nearby tree and settle into a puddle below as the a cat bounces from branch to branch looking for a dry spot to nestle up in.

You also realize that you've recived something concrete yourself as you look at your own arm. Where before there was nothing, you could now see a pale blue arm. Fire whipped back in forth as you moved your arm around. Holding your hand still, the flames still moved, but it was a soft rocking motion. You also realize your rather dimunative stature as you look at the acorn that was the same size as you. You're excited now more than ever! What are you going to do first?

>Make friends with the acorn.
>Walk around and look at the people passing by.
>Write-in.
>>
>>2960248
>Write-in.
Familiarize yourself with the area around you.
Watch the people and animals, and see how they interact with the world around you.
>>
Writing. Probably last one until tomorrow when everyone's awake.
>>
Actually, I'll wait until morning.
>>
>>2960300
This
>>
>>2960300
Supportin
>>
Morning nerds. Writing.
>>
File: parkTree.jpg (91 KB, 640x424)
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You make slow progress as you walk about the park, the blades of grass blocking your way as though they were a jungle or perhaps some sort of trap to slow you down. Frin where you can see, there are small trails of ants roaming around in search of food. A particular party seems to have been rather lucky as they harvest the crumbs from what appears to be a picnic. A little squad of ants pull at a relatively moderate sized piece of sandwich crust, with one ant tugging it a minute distance before her brethren help pull it a bit more. Another seems to be sucking at a bit of jam, before leaving and offering it to her sisters via trophylaxis.

High in the trees you spot a little nest with birds. The younglings are pink and bald, their bodies shivering as they brave the cold, huddling together waiting for their parents. Their parents come soon enough, their breast adorned with a light red crest. The parent vomits a bit of food into their gaping mouths, hungry for the offering of sustanance.

Currently, the only humans in the park are a pair of girls hiding from the sprinkling rain under a bus station cover. The sit and titter to each other as they show each other little clips and videos on their phones. You can't make out what they're saying but one of the girls who happens to have a pink bookbag says something and the auburn girl starts laughing out loud and smiling. You take a moment to look at their apparel.

The girl with the pink bag has blonde hair, let loose into a golden mane as the locks ripple down from her head behind her ears. She seems to be wearing a white button up style shirt and her skirt is gray like the clouds above.

The other girl seems a bit more tomboyish as she wears a tight-fitting pair of jeans and a tee that you presume is of some band. Her hair is tied into a ponytail that whips at a long sleeved plaid button shirt.

A moment to collect your bearings find you under the cover of a large tree inside of a little patch of grass. A pathway surrounds the grass and leads to a street where the girls are sitting. To the far side of the park is a little fast-moving brook.

>Go over to the girls.
>Play with the acorn.
>Write-in.
>>
>>2961174
>>Go over to the girls.
>>
>>2961174
>>Go over to the girls.
>>
>>2961174
make a hat from the acorn
>>
Writing.
>>
File: pathway.jpg (823 KB, 1600x1200)
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You make your way over to the girls. It's hard work given your small body, but you keep at it and fine yourself stepping on the cold concrete. A raindrop lands on your and you shake it off with a light whip of your head. A brief ring of a bicycle bell calls out as you dive to avoid getting trampled by the thin tire.

Picking yourself off the ground, you turn back to the girls. The cauccous laughter from before seems to have died down and they seem to be chatting idly as they look at their phones. The blonde turns and starts laying on the brunette's lap.

You're almost at their feet now. The rain splashes you here and there as it hits the walkway. Right next to their feet are their bags. There's the pink one you saw before, and a striped black and white messenger bag, it's strap hangs limpy on the ground.

>Try to get their attention.
>Climb in the pink bag.
>Climb in the striped bag.
>Write-in.
>>
>>2961337
>>Climb in the pink bag.
>>
>>2961337
>>Climb in the pink bag.
>>
>>2961337
>write in
Climb the blondes hair and ride her head
>>
Writing
>>
Stuff's come up, will be a delay. Please be patient as I try to resolve this.
>>
Back mother fuckers.
>>
File: girlsBag.jpg (392 KB, 1434x1912)
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You figure it'd probably be fine to hide in the pink bag. You walk over to bag, steps at a moderate pace. They girls don't seem to notice as you open the zipper on the pink bag. Inside is a light blue binder adorned with notes of girlish handwriting. The air is filled with the scent of make-up and perfume that originate from a smaller bag inside.

From the outside you can hear the girls talking.

"-ings been with your dad?"

"It's been worse I guess. Jimmy's been hasseling me to make up with him."

"You gonna listen to him?"

"Nah."

"Guess you do you... Oh, by the way, you hear that new song from Freakout?"

"Maybe? How does it go?"

"Something like Sorrow's an old friend of mine, but I can't stand him all the time. Or something like that."

"Haha, you're the one asking me! How can you not remember it?"

"Shut up! You forget things more than I do!"

The two erupt into laughter.

A brief moment of silence is shared and you can hear shuffling as something sounds like it's being lifted, followed by the bag you're in being liften as well. The one of the voices grows louder.

"Oh hey! You ever try to jump over the brook?"

"Yeah? It was pretty easy."

"Really? I'm gonna try it."

Things get pretty rocky as you assume the girl is running.

>Things are getting dicey, bail!
>Nah, it's fine.
>>
>>2962067
Start reading through her stuff and playing with her make up
>>
>>2962067
>>Nah, it's fine.
>>
>>2962067
>>Nah, it's fine.
>>
>>2962344
This kek
>>
>>2962344
dis one
>>
Hey nerds, gonna start writing soon, so sit tight.
>>
File: waterlogged.jpg (59 KB, 570x321)
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You decide to rummage about her bag while you hitch a ride. Looking through her binder you only find sheets of homework. Math. Math. Math. Oooh, an English paper about Edgar Allen Poe. Something you think is for an art class, a bit too avant gard to make sense of though. Bleh. There's nothing interesting here.

You shift your attention to her make-up bag, insides are little cases of fondation, sticks of mascara, and a pallet of eye shadow. You break up the foundation using it as foliage for your tapestry as you paint a forest inside the bag, you then arm yourself with the compact and the mascara brush and procced to pretend to be a little knight, using the brush to jab at the little figments of imagination that you conjured up inside your mind.

From outside you hear, "Steph! Be careful!"

"Aww, it's fine see?"

For a brief moment you feel as though you're in freefall. Then a scraping sound.

"Steph!" You hear a voice call.

And then there's a splash.

Water's leaking into the bag... Pretty fast...

>Get out! Hurry!
>It's safer here than out there, right?
>>
>>2965807
>Get out! Hurry!
and grab onto a book or a couple papers to help us float up or something
>>
>>2965807
>>Get out! Hurry!
Hollow pens, and wooden pencils float
Use them.
>>
>>2965807
Flee you fool
>Get out! Hurry!
>>
Writing
>>
File: pinkHaze.png (80 KB, 800x534)
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Oh dear! This isn't good, not at all! You hurriedly scavange about in this bookbag for some pencils and books. The book is the easiest part, the girl seemed to be reading a campy vampire romance novel, it's cover painted nearly black with a white rose. You find some hollow pens as well, quite of few of them actually, they're in a packaging that looks fresh save for a cut corner. You lash them together with the black colored cord of some headphones.

You get on board of your makeshift raft, and ride it as it floats upward towards the open top of the bag where you climbed in.

Drats. It looks like it's too small for your raft to fit through. Regardless you decide to swim into the open river anyways...

...

Huh. You think to yourself as you float idly in the brook. You can feel the water rushing by you, but your aren't really affected by it's current. You don't even struggle to breath as you hover.

The same, however, can not be said for the host of your backpacking adventures though, as her body drifts down the path of streaming water. She looks limp as her hands flop about lazily, moving to the whims of the stream. Small whisps of pink dot the surrounding body as it floats along, that doesn't seem good.

Stranger still, is the sense of kinship you feel nearby. You feel it pulling you towards the girl. Something clicks inside your mind and you see a light haze of blue surrounding the girl that seems to be getting thinner with each passing second.

You could try to do something...

>Surface, your safety matters first.
>Swim over to her, maybe you could do something?
>>
>>2966352
>>Swim over to her, maybe you could do something?
Yes, make sure her dead body doesn't drift too far so it'll be easy for others to find her.
>>
>>2966352
>>Swim over to her, maybe you could do something?
>>
>>2966352
>>Swim over to her, maybe you could do something?
>>
Going out to eat. Will write when back.
>>
>>2966640
ya back yet?
>>
>>2966899
No.
>>
Alright, I'm back.
Anyone still here? Else we saving for tomorrow.
>>
>>2967173
yo
>>
Well, midnight write I suppose.
>>
File: fishy.jpg (825 KB, 2000x1124)
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The current flows around you as you make your way towards the girl. Small bits of debris bob and weave through the open water like an open sky. The murky algae makes visibility rather poor, however, you can see fine. A fish swims by, it's scales gleaming in the green water.

A little more and you're right next to the girl, the blue haze growing dimmer by the moment. However, there's a spot that's pure blue that doesn't seem to be fading near her heart.

What's the plan chief?

>Push her to safety!
>Try to absorb the blue.
>Interact with the blue spot.
>>
>>2967219
>>Interact with the blue spot.
Interact is a new action word, and will get us closer to understanding this world and our place in it
>>
>>2967219
>>Interact with the blue spot.
no eating it
>>
>>2967219
>>Interact with the blue spot.
>Curious...
>>
File: theBlueStorm.jpg (745 KB, 1920x1200)
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The blue spot calls to you, drawing you ever nearer. It's visage like a gaping maw that beacons to you, it's aura so familiar and inviting. The closer you get to it, the greater it's details come into focus. What appeared from a distance as a dot, now appears to be a torrential typhoon of light blue, with tendrils snapping back and forth. With every passing moment, the surround haze grows dim, this beacon grows brighter.

You touch it.

Suddenly you understand your sphere.

You are a deity of soul and thought. All beings sentient or not, contain a life-force. You are able to manipulate these in ways, you are unsure of what way, but ways.

First things first though, you want to save the girl. You almost instinctively know what to do. The storm draws you in, and you let it. You feel your form crumble much as it did as you entered this world, but something is different, something else is crumbling as you are.

You blink.

Water is everywhere.

You can't breathe.

You flail and begin to swim towards the surface, breaking the surface tension and the cohesive chains of water with a mighty wave. Blonde hair and water clings to your skin as you gasp for breath. You hear hysterical shrieking. You slowly crawl ashore. Your eyes close.

>wake
>sleep further
>>
>>2967281
>>wake
>>
>>2967281
>Wake, but try to do so outside of the body you are in.
>>
>>2967281
>>wake
>>
File: wetClothes.png (666 KB, 1024x581)
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You awaken with a start, the air rushing into your lungs in great swaths. You bare managed to avoid meeting skulls with the other girl. The clothes on you are wet and scratchy, the weather is cold, and you feel sore. There's a throbbing pain at the back of your skull which beats to a steady drumbeat.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

"Ahhrugh." The groan escapes your lips.

"Oh Steph! You're alright! I was so worried, and I didn't know what to do, you fell in the river and then I didn't see you come back up..." she continues on and on.

You breathe in the air your body needs.

>Amnesia. "Who are you?"
>Act like nothings wrong.
>Write-in.
>>
>>2968781
>>Act like nothings wrong.
>>
>>2968781
>>Act like nothings wrong.
>>
>>2968781
>>Act like nothings wrong.
>>
>>2968781
>>Amnesia. "Who are you?"
If we feign brain damage we can get away with doing all sorts of weird and out-of-character shenanigans before returning to say, "oh, I got better."





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