(Untitled)

[fuckyou_chorus]

[an indeterminate period of time ago (mainly because i am too damn lazy to look it up) your characters may have found themselves in the strangest of places - the minds of other people. There, they could learn all sorts of interesting things about their fellow detainees, such as their horrible love for disco

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[wasaredherring]

[You find yourself an a strange, slightly-overcast city, not unlike Frankfurt in the 70's. Cheerful, bustling, at a market near late afternoon, not quite yet getting into the evening, and with a distinctive fall chill. Off in the distance is a looming gray wall, the occasional bird far off in the distance flying over the structure. A little checkpoint is far in the distance.

But who cares about that, right now there's a lovely market going on

((ooc: fair warning that Zhores' mind is a rather unfriendly place. Warnings for death, trauma, violence, being batshit, and possibly possession. Feel free to talk to me in Irc as Shaun, or in gchat as basilmemories.))]

[purpleprosebud]

[heads to the checkpoint]

[wasaredherring]

[The checkpoint's been burned heavily inside, even some of the metal parts melting slightly before they cooled.]

[purpleprosebud]

Oh no! What happened! [flails]

[x_autnihil]

*what the...

watching that bird.*

[wasaredherring]

[Something seems off about it, like it's missing something in it's little feathery chest area. it flies over the wall though, and out of sight.]

[x_autnihil]

*...curious. walking over to take a better look at the wall.*

[wasaredherring]

[The wall is higher than any earthly man has ever built one, taller than the skyscrapers on one side. A little checkpoint is the only entry to what might be on the other side.

And perched on that, is a little fluffy white raven]

[x_autnihil]

*Looks up at the white raven.

Then goes to the checkpoint.*

[wasaredherring]

[the bird makes a point of hopping down onto your shoulder, and mimes looking into the checkpoint with you.

Inside the booth there's obviously been some fire damage, papers burned, and the metal furniture slightly melted, though cool now. A layer of dust settles over everything. through the grimy windows and past the toll bar, there's a strange city beyond, the architecture completely different.]

[x_autnihil]

*Steps inside the checkpoint to get a better look. Picking up those papers.*

1/2

[wasaredherring]

[Not only are they charred, but they're in Cyrillic, the proper dates worn away, all except one, a faded picture woman, features completely wiped away by time.

Though be careful now, that page almost seems to be Razor-edged]

[wasaredherring]

[quietly into his ear, the voice seemingly coming from nowhere]

"East. Go east"

[x_autnihil]

*drops that paper back where he picked it up, turning back to look at the bird.*

Why east?

[wasaredherring]

It's where the answers are. And salvaged pride.

[x_autnihil]

*All right, going to the east.*

Why do you know this?