God has gone mad!Overestimating his own longevity, he continued to postpone the well earned day of judgment. And time, in its rightful way of corroding all it dares touch, malformed the entrails of his head. Obsessed and enamored with the mortar of minced meat he created, prolonging it for so long, that the immemorial hair in his endless beards turned sallow and white, like the loose skin of his fingers.Now decrepit, drunk, tired, and loveless, God has at last succumbed to dementia. And without sense the world was ruled; Babel returned from the Grave, now with a new tower, and he built it in the first Irish city he found. And seeing the fresh weather of the island, envious and dried by the rotten heat, Mohave stood and settled in the new metropolis.The lunacies of God brought an erratic chaos to everything, and yet, the transition of reality was so slow, so gentle, so hard to perceive by the nervous system of the world, that no one seemed to notice. Humans in particular didn't seem to manifest suffering from the madness just yet, it seems as if long ago they had forgotten what God was like.You are a person living in the Irish desert of Mohave, the Red metropolis. Perhaps you were slightly less imbecile, or perhaps God forgot how to be senile while reviewing your file, for one reason or another you are aware that reality has shifted, it's just you can't really recall how things used to be.In your eyes the terrible memories whisper torments without source. You remember the tower of Babel, God raping Gabriel, you recall everything that is as if it had always been, and yet, you are certain that reality has changed. No one seems to notice that things go from bad to worse, no one seems to care that the world has gone mad, no one cares about the thunder, the illness of forgetting, the wind of madness, no one. Being the only sane one, you become the endeared interest of a lonely and drunken God, wanting someone, anyone, to dare and see him.
>>6060671Rules:In this quest you will have to survive the lunacies of the mad God in a city surrounded by desert. Some things may want to kill you or do other nefarious acts, the city has some considerable and growing crime rates, and the limit of human depravity is not the ceiling, but the very heavens.. Most dangerous things will follow the ancestral rules established by God back when he was sane (a certain biology, laws of physics, and sporadic memories of what deserves to be destroyed and what must be preserved).You can perform any technically possible action, roll 1-100 for success probability.There is no HP system. Numbers cant measure how raped you are; the unreliable descriptions of your current state will be your only estimate of health. Injuries behave realistically, but nothing is certain in the city of the mad God.Lastly, you need to make a character to play, try to not define it too well or you will go mad (!). You also need a goal or a mission, this can range from saving your loyal corgi dog (Feefee), murder god, retrieve your spouse from the hands of some handsome religious man, make a fortune by taking advantage of the crazy people, destroy the cult of the salamander go crazy and become the king of the city jungle desert or any custom within madness. It can be as mad as you want and can be changed at any time, however please state so when you do. Your goal in life is bound to change depending on your actions.You can talk to anything, sentiment or not, no reply is guaranteed, so try to make your actions worth it.You may die. Even then, in a crazy world anything is possible.Your character:>Name:>Sex:>Age:>Physical status (senile, fat, strong, average, moribund, etc):>Job (informal employment or hobos have more luck):>Goal/mission:>Attachment to humanity:
>>6060675Singleplayer or multiplayer?>Name: Samson Trost>Sex: Male>Age: 36>Physical status: Very Fit>Job: Lumberjack>Goal/mission: Find the Worldtree and cut that motherfucker down>Attachment to humanity: A locket belonging to your late wife.
>>6060686The decrepit memories of what once was embraced his dreams; the abundant oxygen, the endlessness of millennial trees, the antique sharks who proudly boasted of their immemorial existence, claiming their right to the sea. And on the land would go the beggars, the hogs, the miserable, and they would rot over the muds they adored so deeply. The dead trees, dried by unsustainable agricultural practices, by the fierce sun, dried by the solitude, and forgotten from the collective memory like the elders from the rotten asylums. But the lumberjack remembered, with nostalgic endearment their whines of pain reproduced on his ears, soothing his dreams, whispering, begging to be remembered. Remembered by him who hated them so deeply..The corpse pounced over him, intending to take his killer along to the depths of hell, the dead tree crushed him painlessly, and the senseless verses of his conscience ceased to speak in rhymeless dumbaseries and focused on all that was real and truthful. The dream had ended. And when he woke up, the dead trunk was still there; unlike his rudimentary house of hermit lumberjack. The fellow brother trees had become rock, solid and undeniable; undead, for unlike the trunks he once remembered using as walls, the rocks were never alive. With half-asleep eye-sight, on his window he witnessed the very end of his labour, the entire forest, the same forest that had fed him and his victims, had decertified overnight.You stare at the window perplex, and realize at last.. you don't have a job anymore.(Since this is the first action here are some examples of actions you can do:1. Die2. Talk to the rocks3. Cry4. Go outside already5. See if the Dead trunk in your room has anything to say.You crave the jungle.
>>6060710(Note: Your thoughts will become more coherent once you wake up properly.)
>5 See if the Dead trunk in your room has anything to say.We need to keep remembering, or we will have nothing left.We need to remember more and hold on to what we have.
>>6060728The eyes of the tree were dark and swollen, as if it had cried a death more tragic and far more painful than his own. In a disdainful whisper, as the lumberjack put his hand over his bark, tied in the tongue from the lack of words to speak, the tree spoke in his place.—What do you want.. animal?The memories of the murdered trunk were just barely heareable in the uncleaned ears of the vast man. What did he want to know? how could the miserable trunk guess? in the silence of the rock hut, the purpouseless lumberjack begged the mind to infer the correct thoughts, to speak the correct question, to exclaim the true prose. And the tongue, seduced by attraction from the long forgotten act of speaking, pondered on the words about to be spoken.Tip: Speak. Ask what you will, else rot, rot amongs the maggots who havent dried in this damned land!Said the consient mind, impatient of the lumberjacks shyness.
>>6060753>"Give...Give me memories. Speak. Tell me what you are tree. Tell me of the earth and soil that was under your roots, tell me of the sweet water. Of the wind above rushing through your branches. Of the sun and his light, of the night and his moon. Of all the life passing by and living in you.">"Tell me it was real like the bark on your corpse. To know what you know, is all i ask. Do you remember the forest, your kin. I do, but i feel it is not right.">"You know why already, trunk. I am man. You know what i did. Will you hate me and deny my hunger for any sane memory, for what i did in the past ? What endless others did, even the world it self ?">"I cannot restore the forest, but for gain those memories you hold i can give you two choices : a swift death by my axe and fire or to come with me in this broken world has a dying anchor of the past."
>>6060831>>"Tell me it was real like the bark on your corpse. To know what you know, is all i ask. Do you remember the forest, your kin. I do, but i feel it is not right."
>>6060831>>6060892Your measly tie tongued without premonition or warning, the life of the wood chopping hermit had made you forget the ways of men. Ogmios, the forgotten god of eloquence didnt bother blessing your mouth, and instead he laughed from far away, as if remembering something funny from his days of youth>>- T-tell me it was real, real.. real like the... like the bark on your corpse. To know what you know, tha- this.. is all i ask. Do you remember the forest, your kin. I do, but i feel.. i dont feel that, that is... it... it's not right."With the sockets of disdain and silence, the trunk’s terrible stare shut your throat out of pure impatience; as if you were the first balding ape he ever endured witnessing trying to articulate words. The judgemental feelings forced the calloused hand to lift away from the bark, as if it were about to bite, and upon laying his sight again on the corpse, the lumberjack discerned at last, the face his eyes had not seen.– Yes. Yes, animals. All and each thing you remember must be real.The trunk's stare exploded again.– Close your jaw if you don't speak! And your borrowed words, borrowed from god knows who; continue speaking like that, like a debrained man, and your tongue will rot. Continue, you!The fury dried, and upon seeing the man’s jaw fall again from the surprise, rotten of impatience, the corpse continued.– What you remember was real, I know it was. I fell on you, to kill you, and I felt your bones breaking, cracking, mortaring under me, like shit beneath the boot.The true hatred of his hefty words resonated so deeply in the air, that the very consonants rhotacized from wrath.– You live only because of your God, and instead, I die. Of my people you asked, tongueless almost-man, they were damned through the night. Ripped from the earth and thrown as stones, damned to life without life, death without death, made to be rocks, for trying to kill those who killed them, and for daring to live more than man. And you, for dying like an ingrate, cursed you were, not to perish beneath me, no. Instead you will die of hunger, now that the trees are but mere statues. We were your living,I was your death,where will you be left,but in the limbo?
>>6061281Possible actions>Continue asking questions>Beg>Go outside and leave the trunk>End the trunk>Custom.
>>6061286>>Go outside and leave the trunk
>>6060675(Single player, right?)
>>6061281>>Continue asking questions>"I died ? No i remember to be alive.">"Why you are not a rock then ?"i would prefer if my vote is not used like that next time.
>>6062631Multiplayer. If you are pure of heart and want to poke the bull's ballsI wont be able to paint every reply if there are too many characters at once, however.
>>6062714Dont let the cruel words from the corpse rob your words, anon. The borrowed sentences of eloquence and solemnity have always been envied by the lumberjack, he who lives alone, he who doesnt talk with people, he who sells his body as a service, as if he was a slut.. it was but natural for his first words to the terrible victim would be stumbled and tied by the ambition of his unexperienced tongue.Let his words flow, or not, but the brave lives until the coward wills.If you want a certain thing to happen you could roll the dice to see if the best scenario would happen, or if the natural consequences of your actions would instead. Dont worry, the dice just wants to be your friend, what could such a small cube do to harm you? thats right, nothing
>>6060675>>Name: Cole>>Sex: M>>Age: 26>>Physical status (senile, fat, strong, average, moribund, etc): Thin and fidgety>>Job: Petty thief>>Goal/mission: Get the FUCK out of the city to somewhere safe from God's madness>>Attachment to humanity: A briefcase with a priceless treasure inside
>>6063205Alright then.>>6060675>Name: Elena Sharpe>Sex: Female>Age: 24>Physical status Lithe and thin>Job: Puppeteer, mostly public performances on the streets>Goal/mission: To get back.>Attachment to humanity: A book of poems gifted by....
>>6060675>Name: Jasper Welton>Sex: Male>Age: 41>Physical status (senile, fat, strong, average, moribund, etc): Slightly overweight >Job (informal employment or hobos have more luck): Preacher>Goal/mission: To look into God's eyes>Attachment to humanity: a worn bible
Dont abuse ye damn animals!Only 1 of these 3 shall live
>>6061358>>6062714Ill take this as Ask first and gtfo after, since its an even vote
>>6064640Caged deathmatch for only one to survive?
>>6062714>>6061358>>Continue asking questions>"I died ? No i remember to be alive.">"Why you are not a rock then ?"— Animal, animal; what animal! what insipid water! what water so water! what an ammoniac urine! — You cut me, and i fell on you; are you not only tongueless but deaf? like shit beneath the boot, i said. Thats what you were; in the reality dreamnt, in the dream that became reality, and reality that refused to be.— Why are you alive? why am i not rock? and why is it that you speak such borrowed words?— I am the dream that wasn't. I am the reality that remains; the last of my kin, the last, as far as my roots may reach.So many words, so many incoherence, the trunk's disgraces were barely understood by your asleep ears; as you heard more and more of them, you felt as if its tongue became confused, as if its mouth wasn't there, as if Babel's tower had risen once again.Eventually, the tree you killed in your dreams ceased to speak altogether, so much disdain and revengeful insults were blurred into a concept within your brain, someone who was angry at you for something you did. It was time. Time for you to wake up; and if earlier was time as is, now it was urgent. You have to wake up.And when you woke up, the rock was still there.Your legs, somnolent and weak dragged you outside, confused and dizzy. All you saw was desert and dried trees; so dry they were almost fossilized. And in the lengths of where sight could reach you saw the city, and you didn't know why the concept of a tree, any tree, burned so badly in your esophagus. What was that that you did when you didn't know what to do? To cut down trees, to work, but in the desert there aren't trees. You feel the locket somewhere on your sweated chest, maybe from not knowing what to do, you were left alone. Go get yourself lost, lost in the forest!> Explore the fossilized forest> Kill yourself, animal.> Inspect the locket> Attempt to go towards the city, through the forest. The forest surrounds you, why are you so anxious to not be in it?
>>6063975>>6064023Ill think about what to do about these two.>>6064284Is this the same drunk from the first part?We can continue your quest
>>6066139>> Inspect the locket
