(Phantom, I was hoping very hard that your vehemence was purely role-play, but you preformed the internet equivalent of randomly yelling cuss words at someone you pass daily on the street. People are opposing you because of that aggression, so don't you think it would be a better idea to dilute it instead of proving it?
Also, more essays, not the kind of thing that will keep him on track...or give him one. But we'll see.)
(Actually Phantom, after re-reading it however-many times [5 days out of ten, I'm not as sick anymore] I have to
facepalm. First an explanation of things that bear no impact on the situation, second a history blurb of the same importance, and fourth/sixth a bunch of fairly random conversation [half of which is in command form] and sound. You know what it is and what it's going to do right now, yet you wrote it anyway. Can you now tell why your posts confuse me?
*Returns after week-long procrastination.*)
>Phantom:
Twice, instead of half. I probably wouldn't▬ Hn, he was quoting you. You sit back and listen, but have trouble focusing on the words pouring into your mind. If only because you meet resistance, you sit up against the wall and try very hard to keep track of what the words mean. The Phantom voice is going to try explaining the images he gave you at some point before. You can't seem to recall just what the images were, but you infer what they likely be, with the descriptions. A moment after "steel fortress" your mind loses cohesion and your understanding plummets. You return to yourself at "that was a boat" and keep track of what he speaks. '12000, what was left of the people?' You're mildly confused by the sudden change of subject at "because it was▬called a plane" but you regain comprehension. 'Another quarter of a 10000?[←one word]' Then at "we lost a lot of people" you ask 'how much is a lot?' You feel dizzy for a second, then he lists off an assertion to you. As you comprehend it he lists another, of which you are more eager to answer. You speak over his next words with; 'That is what I'm trying to find. Finding a purpose will be my...' You totally lose track of what you were saying, and gain track of the Phantom voice's advice. You're not sure why you would need to travel light, or travel at all. Although you guess they would probably...probably... Phantom starts talking again. 'You already explained that!...Goodbye.' Glad that he is gone, you wait for what will probably be another speech, and another, and many after. You feel tired all of a sudden, and notice another one of those thoughts in your mind. This one is directed at Phantom, and seems to be some kind of reminder. Then there's Phantom,
again. You look around the room trying to find something else to focus on, half-hearing a grinding and a low hum. You move over to the open drawer and jump at the sound of a thundering bang; Phantom yells.
Anger smolders in your gut.
You clench your teeth, hold your head, and strain to drive
everything out of your mind! You will hear no more voices, no more sounds, you will see no more images, and receive no
thoughts! Your mind you be your own if you have to
tear it appart trying! And you drive out the world.
A dull ache returns to your consciousness, or returns you to consciousness. You lay on the floor, fallen from a sitting position, with your arms covering your head yet your face to the cold stone. The very cold stone. Your body and mind feel sluggish as your joints pop from leaving the bad position. You turn and climb up the side of the bed, getting away from the stone. It is dark, the brazier burning even less than before. You reach and pull the stand near the bed, heedless of the possible danger. You use your bare claw to stir up the coals, and are rewarded with a waft of warm air. You grab the blanket and pull it over yourself, but open to the warmth. You relax, allowing the meager heat to spread over you.
(It appears "I" did pretty much skip your post, even though when I finally began I was so set against it. Still seems wrong, but it's better than redoing it and stalling longer.)
>RAM: "I don't believe that thee has been any fighting near you. Any associated actions and sounds are generated in the same manner as the voices." "I have somewhat lost track of all that we have made you do, but I think that we were responsible for you attacking Garth and for moving all the stuff around in your previous abode. For reference I will now make you raise a finger."
A quiet voice surprises you, and after its first statement, you know that whatever you did, didn't work. This troubles you little, the sudden anger you felt before dissipated, and little to replace it. Even the slow understanding that some voices are messing with you on purpose comes as no surprise; not because you really expected it, but because nothing would surprise you right now. The voice tells you where some blame may come, if not where it may go.
> Raise a finger.
You jerk you hand up for a moment, then marvel at it. You saw the thought coming, but did nothing. You stir the coals a bit more.
You are tired.
You are vague and vaporous.
You are thirsty.
You are cold.
Your muscles ache.
Your guts a
aache.
>RAM: "And now something else without telling you first, so that you will not be thinking about it when it happens."
Now the voice tells you it will send something else. You decide to stop this one, allowing that the voice probably has no idea what you're doing right now. Maybe lighting the bed on fire would be a bad idea.
> Open and close your mouth 4 times each in quick succession.
The thought comes promptly and you resist it; holding your mouth tighter in excess.
>RAM: "I suggest that you should try to get some information, you might be able to see something through the cracks at the edges of the door, or you might be able to use something to scratch a hole in the walls large enough to see through. And consider asking any guards about current events..."
You hadn't thought of asking those questions, but you add that to your mental list of things to ask...well, create the list, since you don't find one.
(Hm, I don't recall what this sounds like.) (*Returns after a very long parade of hard days.*)
> Hum the first line of Mary had a Little Lamb.
You begin humming some almost familiar tune, but cough, and lose it. You find a familiar tune and hum it in stead, but you also lose it, and consciousness.
You are unconscious, among other more distant things.
>Armok:
Testy explanation. You sit on a marble bench, that sits on a ledge, that sits in a mossy canyon. You look up, where the sun shines, and all the rock is covered in vines and moss. You look down, and see the trickling water, not strong enough to reach the bare rock right now. Affixed in midair above the sand is a sewer conduit; out which pours words that gleam red in the sunlight. You wonder about it, not about how impossible it seems, but who installed it; who laid down the mortar and masonry? The words stop dripping out, and you see a wooden contraption topple its way out of the edifice to go splash in the water below. It looks like it could be used to block the flow from the conduit, but you see little point, as rusty metal version is already installed. As more very dark red words pour onto the sand, you watch as the bunch of finished wood is pushed farther down stream. Looking at both of them, you think the metal one would be more likely to get stuck, but the wooden one would be more likely to break. So then the wooden one rests beside your bench, right before you hear a giant grinding and a deep, squishy thud below. It appears a large column of stone fell out of the floating channel, burying itself into an island of sand. And then your on the island, looking up at it. Its multilayered stone is carved quite unlike the curves of your canyon; the difference between water and chisel. You walk around the pillar, noting how very ordered the many colors are, and what they say. You return your attention to the sewer's edge and see more of the black-red words splattering on the sand. They stop, but out falls a polished marble block, which you immediately take back up to the ledge. Then falls a small grate, out which comes another, smaller pillar of stone that buries right beside the first. Your tempted to close the metal gate above the conduit, but then falls a steel cube! You put that with the other stuff, but find it out of place. You start thinking of where it should go when a loud, cracking, grinding sound emanates from the floating masonry. Something too large is being jammed through it, and only broken shards fall into the sand below. The grinding stops, and more dark words splatter down. You realize now that the words are made of blood, but are cleaned away by the slow flow. A bird chirps high above.
(I know I'm not done, but I wanted to post this for tonight, since it has been sitting around so long. Just no more commands yet! I will be at least working on this every night from now on, so send commands after I have the other part. (Commented) conversation is fine though.)
(Edit: Not tonight, looks like. Will depend on if tomorrow is as exhausting as previous days have been.
Oh, and are you guys planning on using constant chatting to guide the story because of the times between updates? You can tell the situation's changed a bit, and there are things you can expect...)
