[Open] ====> Lyndis: Be oblivious.

[artful_transgressor]

Sorry, what was that? You weren't listening. You are too busy WANTING TO PLAY THIS GAME ALREADY.

It's not as though you have A WHOLE LOT ELSE TO DO. It will be another night or two before you need to make the TWENTY-MILE ROUND TRIP to the nearest city to steal supplies. (Actually, you're stocked up enough to go FOR QUITE A BIT LONGER than a few nights, but those are EMERGENCY STORES and you really shouldn't dip into them unnecessarily.) And aside from STEALING THINGS, you really don't have much to occupy your time. You have NO LUSUS TO CARE FOR, since yours was killed by a passing scalebeast OVER FIVE SWEEPS AGO, and your only willing contact with THE WORLD OUTSIDE YOUR CAVE is through your trusty (stolen) HUSKTOP. Which you've been on for hours. You're trying to take a break, since A LOT OF FRUSTRATING NOTHING IS HAPPENING ANYWAY.

Perhaps there is something else around your hive to keep you occupied?

====> Examine surroundings.

This doesn't take you long. You live in a CAVE. It is NOT PARTICULARLY SPACIOUS. In fact, all your many piles of PRE-PACKAGED FOODSTUFFS, SWEET LOOT, and MISCELLANEOUS TRASH YOU STOLE FOR THE HELL OF IT are stored in your RUINED HIVE, simply because you DON'T HAVE ROOM FOR IT ALL in here. You'd worry about the safety of your ILL-GOTTEN SPOILS, but nobody ever comes out here, ever. What could possibly happen to it? (Of course, you store the food WELL OUT OF REACH of any DANGEROUS ALTERNIAN FAUNA. You know better than to attract any of those.)

The only thing here of note, aside from your HUSKTOP in the corner, is your SPACE HEATER. Caves are not known to HEAT THEMSELVES.

====> Screech like a hootbeast and eat arms.

You decide that would actually manage not to be an improvement over your EXTREME BOREDOM, and so abstain.

====> Check behind curtain.



What curtain? You don't see any curtain here.

====> No, really, check behind the curtain.

How about no one ever looks behind that curtain, ever.

====> Check behind curtain anyway.



Goddammit.

You are always SO EMBARRASSED WITH YOURSELF whenever you look at this half of your cave. There's nothing particularly humiliating about your BLANKET PILE; that is of course where you sleep, as you LACK A FUNCTIONAL RECUPERACOON. Your GENERATOR is in RATHER PATHETIC SHAPE, but outdated patchwork machinery isn't particularly shameful, either. But you could REALLY DO WITHOUT the SAD WRIGGLER SCRIBBLINGS of yestersweep on display here, and perhaps the ARTFULLY FOLDED PAPER CRAFTS that you occasionally (and GUILTILY) busy your hands with, as well. You would really prefer NO ONE EVER SEES THESE, but fortunately there is no chance of that happening, EVER.

Well, so long as you're ALREADY STARING YOUR SHAME IN THE FACE, there's no harm in getting a closer look.



Look at this PIECE OF GARBAGE. This generator probably wasn't exactly TOP OF THE LINE when it was first installed; this cave was meant to be the TEMPORARY HAVEN for yourself and your lusus while your hive was being built by the CONSTRUCTION DROIDS, so it was NEVER MEANT TO LAST THIS LONG to begin with. You keep meaning to REPLACE IT, something you've theoretically had the capability of doing since you acquired a MODUS into which to CAPTCHALOGUE items of unwieldly size...but you've come to know your generator intimately through SWEEPS OF KEEPING IT RUNNING, mostly by trial and error. You're not sure you could run any other, which has ABSOLUTELY NOTHING TO DO WITH SENTIMENTAL VALUE WHATSOEVER. But you swear, if it cuts out on you today while you're trying to PLAY THE GAME, you will PUNT IT TO THE MOONS. Both of them.

You've also been meaning to erase all these WALL SCRIBBLINGS that you did when you were a wriggler, back when you were apparently into CUTESY HOOFBEASTSHIT. You never actually get around to it, though. This also has nothing to do with SENTIMENTAL VALUE or HAPPY MEMORIES or any of that nonsense.

====> Artfully fold paper.

You're too WOUND UP ABOUT THE GAME to do that! You'd just wind up mauling the good paper, and THAT SHIT ISN'T EASY TO FIND. Artfully folding paper isn't A PARTICULARLY COMMON HOBBY AMONG TROLLS, which is why it embarrasses you so much that you do it. You're already A FAILURE OF A TROLL in plenty of ways; you'd think you'd get MORE RESPECTABLE HOBBIES. But what NO ONE KNOWS doesn't reflect badly on you, after all.

====> Become impatient.

You can't do that, as you are already IMPATIENT BEYOND BELIEF. You've been looking forward to this game for awhile; you appreciate any escape from your usual STRUGGLE FOR SURVIVAL, and the COMFORTING VIRTUAL DISCONNECT of video games is one of your favorite things ever. It's also been the only arena in which you're able to DEAL WITH DEATH in something approaching a TYPICAL TROLL MANNER - which is to say matter-of-factly, if not casually. To object to the RAMPANT CULLING persistent in troll society is truly a ROGUE attitude. But games at least provide the illusion that you're both powerful and, simultaneously, normal, which is why you feel it's HIGH TIME someone started the damn thing.

Okay, break time is over!

====> Return to husktop.



Ugh, look at this thing. Since you STOLE IT, of course you weren't consulted upon matters like ACCEPTABLE COLORS, so you're stuck with this HOT PINK NASTY TRASH. This time it REALLY isn't about the SENTIMENTAL VALUE; it's just hard to find a husktop that isn't being used or under some sort of SUPERVISION to steal. Oh well. Criminals can't be choosers. You're LUCKY TO HAVE A FUNCTIONAL HUSKTOP AT ALL.

You briefly consider talking to your LUSUS before checking on the status of the game; if it's FINALLY STARTED BY NOW, then you could be wrapped up in this for quite awhile and won't be able to see him! Of course, since your lusus is DEAD, AS PREVIOUSLY STATED, you could theoretically talk to him anywhere to exactly the same effect. However, you prefer to talk to the PILE OF ROCKS you buried his remains under. Trolls don't have any CEREMONIAL BURIAL CUSTOMS, but they do have COMMON SENSE CUSTOMS, and you couldn't just leave his carcass rotting IN FRONT OF YOUR CAVE. It might have attracted more ALTERNIAN FAUNA. (Plus it was PRETTY HEAVILY DISTURBING TO YOU, which was a significant factor taken into your consideration.) You still talk to his GRAVE OF CONVENIENCE like he's alive when you're particularly lonely, which is probably MILDLY INSANE. However, you live the life of a hermit, so you figure a small touch of insanity is JUSTIFIED AND EXPECTED. You even leave SHINY THINGS and the occasional DEAD SQUEAKBEAST by the stones, although you don't really know why. It's just become THIS THING YOU DO.

In the end, you decide against talking to your lusus; the rocks are OUTSIDE, and it is in fact DAYTIME. At best, you could only talk to him from THE MOUTH OF YOUR CAVE, which would be awkward as fuck, so it's not really worth it. You may as well just return to CAMPING THE GAME OPENING.

On that note...

artfulTransgressor [AT] has signed on.

Comments

[artful_transgressor]

okay
i can sorta follow that
but how the fuck can a game transport us someplace
how the fuck does this thing eVen work
or is that not something anyone but phaest knows

[austereastronomer]

Hell if I know.
I have to wonder if some of it came from an outside source.
It doesn't sound like something she would have come up with herself.