You sit by the fire.
In the tepid mellowness of the abyss, nothing happens. Nothing ever happens. Every day–if you can call them that–is the same day. We are in a standstill. Our actions are meaningless, predetermined by the state of the universe. There is no change that can be made.
You sit by the fire.
The only difference between now and then is a single second. If our actions are predetermined, then so, too, are our consequences. There are no bounds to keep us confined. Our actions are by definition justified.
You sit by the fire.
Free will isn’t inherently flawed. Look at you now, you have the Choice to continue onward. You have the Choice to stop now. You have the Choice to quit. You’ve Chosen to continue forever down the rabbit hole of infinite thoughts, incoherent in their design and display.
You. Sit. By. The. Fire.
Do you stand yet? Do you speak yet? Do you petition yet? Do you judge yet?
Do you shoot yet?
No?
You sit by the fire?
Pathetic.
A maid steps out into view. She takes a bow, her left hand extended toward you out of necessity, a dancer deeply practiced in form, before the fire emblazons the ☉, the symbol of Sun, upon her skirt. Her hair follows the symbol's lead, illuminating a small but gentle smile and eyes the shade of apple blossoms. The empty sleeve of her right arm is pinned meticulously behind her. “I am Helia,” she speaks warmly, inviting. “[glow=2,300]Please excuse my rude manner of address. I am only allowed The Privilege as directed. I am here to allow discussion. Each of you is cherished and loved, but among you must be the most cherished and the most loved, just as the same applies to the hated and loathed.[/glow]”
She reaches into the infinite darkness behind her and brings into view a small wooden crate and a chalkboard, wheels asking desperately for oil. “[glow=2,300]You may take turns speaking. Please do not interrupt each other. We are all alive here, after all. You each have twelve votes, but you can only be considered as being Chosen so long as at least one of your own votes lies on you.[/glow]”
You sit by the fire.
“You need not stand. You are still alive, after all, and I will not interfere with that Right. But, you must still Choose one among you, and that person must Choose themself. If you have any further questions, I will be here to answer that which I am allowed. If you wish for Privilege, you may need to wait, or Choose yourself. I was told it would be difficult, but not impossible. You will be alone, but less so.”
Do you stand by the fire yet? The crate calls for its soap.
It is now the Setup Phase. Please Choose a Webadict.
Vote Count
—----------------------------
EuchreJack - 0 -
FallacyofUrist - 0 -
Jim Groovester - 0 -
Knightwing64 - 0 -
Maximum Spin - 0 -
Roden - 0 -
Superdorf - 0 -
Toaster - 0 -
TolyK - 0 -
ToonyMan - 0 -
TricMagic - 0 -
Vector - 0 -
Unused Votes - EuchreJack [x12], FallacyofUrist [x12], Jim Groovester [x12], Knightwing64 [x12], Maximum Spin [x12], Roden [x12], Superdorf [x12], Toaster [x12], TolyK [x12], ToonyMan [x12], TricMagic [x12], Vector [x12],
73 To Hammer. Setup Phase ends at 20:00 CDT on December 18th, 2021.
You have not received roles yet. You will receive your roles when the Webadict is Chosen.
Author
Topic: Dead Webadict Now: Game Over (Read 53289 times)