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15 hours ago, Beewolf said:

It would be nice if we could find a more practical weapon, though. Or, hell, just a meaningful lead would be appreciated."

I snort at her comments, imagining a scenario where she threw psychedelic, baby-shaped, smoke bombs at people. After a second, I glance down at compass in her hand. I’m amazed to see the needle standing still. “I guess we’re going on a hike.”

I start down the trail towards the dome:

Edited by AngryCacti

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The geisha whispher to each other as you pass,a few mockingly laughing behind long silk sleeves.you can hear something in the pond splashing about along with the shattering of glass.beyond the trees,uou catch glimpses of...something. the howling and growling indicates a wolf or other canine.

Edited by Slime Mother

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“DON’T GO!”

The voice pleads. You might have mistaken it for a man’s, until a geisha starts moving out of sequence and steps toward you with an ornate fan fanning your way like a hundred little hands waving for you to stop. The geisha looks left, looks right, clears the throat and speaks like a man again, and then you might wonder if, amid the kimono that didn’t quite hug curved hips where instead they appeared straight, your male assessment might have been correct.

”Sorry, don’t let my appearance fool you. The makeup is itchy and I don’t know how these two pens got plugged in my hair or how I even got here but I am not one of them.” A red fan waves away any theory that this person was allied with any of these geisha.

”I am Jack Katana.” I fold my fan and sheathe it like a sword. My real one is on my back. I look from the trees back to you. “I don’t know what in the heckeromus is over there but it sounds mean and it sounds hungry so, uh, maybe don’t go..?”

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The 'geisha' is  instantly gossiped and slandered by their siblings,one even scratching their nails on your wrist,levaing bright red welts as their facial features return to that of a normal human,though still plasttered in makeup.  The knowledge that you once held as A geidha,as a Love floats away.you know though that the Broken Hearted the ones howling,arent as dangerous as the Loves or the Scorned Love in the pond

Edited by Slime Mother
Welcome! Im glad to have you

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My head swivels as if on a dial as I look between Jack and Jack. "Oh Lord, now there's two of them." I turn to address the newcomer. "Okay, I'm going to call you Katana, then -- unless you'd prefer Jack 2.0, of course. I mean, if you think of a nickname, put a pin in it, I guess. Speaking of--"

I pull the sharp pins from his hair and wave them excitedly in Jack 1.0's face. "Voilà -- weapons!" I fist one like a dagger and hand the other over to Jack, thinking Katana already has enough of an advantage with his blade.

My nervous babbling still increases as the growling intensifies, though. "Please, please tell me that your surname would either indicate that, a., you are such a sword enthusiast that you committed to a legal name change, or b.,  that you come from a long line of staggeringly competent swordsmen who were called after their occupation, like how the name Potter was derived from pottery, and Smiths were named for their smithing, and Berrys were named for their, er, berry-picking skills, or whatever, so in the event that that thing that's making a noise like an angry chainsaw tries to have a go at us, we can count on you to skewer it, right?

"Please tell me that you are confident you can kabob a freaking wolf."

Edited by Beewolf

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“Christ, we’re multiplying.” I started as Sophie pulled a pin from the stranger’s hair and waved it in my face. Well, she wanted weapons. I take the long pin gingerly, unsure of how I would even use it should the need arise. “Thanks,” I say.

My attention to the conversation lessons as I notice the growling and the flickers of movement moving throughout the trees. I take a step forward, putting myself at Sophie’s side and closer to the tree line while she grills the new Jack. I was beginning to see a pattern in this hellscape- Poke your nose into one place for too long and it’s liable to get cut off. Only, in this situation, it wouldn’t just be a nose that gets mauled if we didn’t hurry. 

I put a hand on Sophie’s arm. I could tell she was getting nervous. We both were. “Listen,” I direct my words at Jack- Kantana- whoever he was, “thank you for the warning, but either help us or give her your sword. The magic compass of doom is pointing at the dome, and that’s where we need to go.”

Edited by AngryCacti
Whoops, sorry, I misread it. Good news everybody, we aren’t getting eaten yet! Welcome aboard, Shize :)

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Thankfully,the wolves never came any closer ....like that was some great reasurance -oh yes,you know death is there but you wont see it at least!

 

.....the narrator of this story wishes to apolagise for if this doesint make sense......okay,fourth wall is back up with nice,shiny  bricks.

Edited by Slime Mother

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I listen to the female as she addresses me and the name that represents myself. I didn’t quite understand what she meant about Jack 2.0 as I wasn’t exactly a cyborg. 

 

“Katana will be satisfactory as a form of address upon my person. I do have a nickname. It is Dir— WAGH!

 

I exclaim as two pins are suddenly yanked from my long black bun. The hair tumbles down to my shoulders and the pins find hands to hold them. I rub my chin at that. 

 

“I’m not sure how effective a hairpin will be when applied with lethal inten—”

 

I am cut off once again as the female goes on to speak about swords and smiths and potters and berries. It is quite clear that, although she removed the two pins from my hair, someone had long since already removed two screws from her head. Though, the mention of a wolf was a little more warranting of my attention as much as my own name. I look off into the distance, trying to peer into the void where two eyes of hunger might just glimpse my own, but I see only trees.

 

“Well, I’m not sure who Kabob is but I am Jack Katana, the Blue Swordsman, warrior-adventurer and your gateway to victory.”

 

Now it was the other male’s turn to speak. He had nothing to fear. Neither of them did. Jack Katana was with them now. 

 

“Give me your names, fellow persons, and I shall give you my sword.” 

 

With that, I grab the hilt protruding past my shoulder and lift up. Steel whispered against wood and leather as blade moved to part from scabbard. Just not completely. I tried once, twice, thrice, but my arm couldn’t physically unsheathe the sword at my back due to the angle and limitations of the human body.

 

“Excuse me.” I give them my back and try again. Still nothing. “This is fine. Nothing to worry about.” Again and again. Nothing. “Almost got it.” Nope. I relent and remove the entire scabbard from my back so that, in a single shwing!, the katana is unsheathed and I brandish the sword and two crossed brows into the distance where the wolves prowl free.

 

To the dome!

Edited by Die Shize

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On 10/14/2019 at 1:32 PM, AngryCacti said:

The magic compass of doom is pointing at the dome, and that’s where we need to go.”

The magic compass of doom was in fact pointing at the dome, which linked in to the idea that it listened to thought commands. Or voice commands, like a supernatural Siri. Obviously, this was something to explore later. 

As I listen to Katana's strange diction, an epiphany begins to take shape in my mind. It occurs to me then that there may have been an option C all along: he is obviously a committed member of a historical reenactment society. Part of me admires his dedication to the role, and part of me finds that level of factual denial worrying in the face of everything that wants to kill us. I also have to wonder what he is supposed to be cosplaying as. (Is it still called cosplaying if it's meant to dramatize history?) My first thought is that he's posing as a member of the Japanese shogunate, but the chosen name "Jack" would seem to shoot that theory in the foot. Hmm. 

On 10/15/2019 at 8:13 AM, Die Shize said:

 

“I’m not sure how effective a hairpin will be when applied with lethal inten—”

"If something has eyeballs, I'll make it effective." I growl under my breath, but then I think back to the eyeless cult members I once communed with, and give an involuntary shudder.

As I watch him struggle to unsheathe his sword from his scabbard, my hopes that we've found a worthy protector and ally begin to puddle somewhere near my feet. Jack squeezes the hand he has on my arm, and I share a commiserating look with him as Katana spins around, trying to pull the sword from a better angle.

 In the face of this underwhelming flubbery, I scan the treeline, and note that the wolves seem less concerned with triangulating an attack than using their menacing vocalizations to nudge us in the direction of the dome -- which is both reassuring and worrying in equal measures.

 Giving up, Katana undoes the sheath entirely and still has enough confidence to lead a victory charge. Despite myself, part of me is amazed at how unflappable he is. 

"Say, Katana, or insert-nickname-here-that-I-happend-to-miss-while-I-was-rummaging-for-weapons-on-your-person, where are you from exactly?" I wave a hand between Jack and I as we advance on the dome. "Because we can't remember much of anything at all. I mean, Jack Numero Uno here can remember his real name, which is more than I can vouch for, so I'm going by Sophie for now. All I get when I try to remember anything are intuitive flashes, like that I don't like peanut butter or onions whenever I think about food, or the fact that I shouldn't be this hairy because shaving day is every three days, and it looks like I just went full Earth Mother and gave up on personal hygiene altogether for the last two weeks."

As we walk through the French doors of the dome, I am hit with the overwhelming fragrance of a greenhouse. Which is to say, fertilizer. I wrinkle my nose and stuff the compass back into my pocket for now. 

Edited by Beewolf

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My hope for this venture plummets each second Katana takes to draw his sword. Why would anyone carry a blade on their back, anyways? It seemed very impractical. 

I let Sophie do most of the talking as we approach the dome. The smell of dirt and foliage hits me in the entrance of the dome. I start walking down the stone path and look for anything out of place. Despite knowing that it was a fugitive gesture, I keep the hairpin in my hand, just in case.

Edited by AngryCacti
I’m really sorry for the wait and short response. School’s been kicking my butt lately. My responses for the next while might be on the shorter side, but I’ll try to keep up the pace :)

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a small river separates a huge tree from the rest of the jungle.many colorful koi swim in the river.an entrance into the tree is created by carved..no,grown in this way ,creating an elegant arch way.

Edited by Slime Mother
Dont worry dude,i understand completely.just checking in.

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While the guy and gal and myself who was also a guy advance toward the dome, I am acutely aware as to how I am not the leader here. I am not leading the way. No one follows me. Rather, it is my katana that leads us on. We follow the blade of destiny and the sword of truth, the cold steel glimmering in the darkness and keeping the wolves at bay like my grandmother used to keep my brothers and I at bay while cooking her plum pie. On that note, I wonder whatever happened to my brothers, and what their names were.

 

My nostalgia was interrupted by the gal who introduced herself as Sophie and the guy as Jack. That last part could pose a problem. Suddenly “Jack 2.0” was making more sense to me. I was certainly stumped as far as cyborgs went. Now, however, I didn’t know if my new friends should call me “Katana” or call the other Jack “Richard” because that way it would be very difficult to confuse the two of us. I ponder on the possibilities as the dome is approached. Its doors are French, very obvious given their ornate decorations, though it was the snails crawling across the porch that gave their nationality away. As the doors were opened, I thought I heard a crunch beneath my foot. No, must have been nothing. We move on. Into the dome.

 

The sweet scent of lilies and roses greet my nostrils alongside what smells like a swamp that a tribe of unwashed orcs had mistaken for a swimming pool at the peak of summer. Nostalgia ended there and I was glad for it, though I stepped on something again and this time it was very clearly half of an apple where once it was whole. A worm wriggled its way toward someone else’s foot and I was glad for it.

 

“I am from a land,” I finally respond to Sophie, peering throughout the greenhouse for orcs. “There is grass in the land and hills and mountains too.” I narrow my gaze through the foliage, something there, no just a cactus that I mistook for an orc. “There is also a river in my land. I lost my cat in it once. Peko Peko was her name. I rescued her with a toothbrush and seaweed tied into a rope. The second time she drowned.”

 

Satisfied that no orcs were present, I sheathe my katana and sling the scabbard over my back, snapping my fingers at something else Sophie had mentioned. “If we find a river then you can bathe yourself and borrow my sword if you want to shave. Wet mulch is an ideal substitute for shaving cream. Also, peanut butter and onions don’t pair very well together and "Katana" will suffice.”

 

As if the fates had heard my every word, the stone path takes us to a river, a great tree beyond it accessed from the archway. However, the main item of attention right now was the river. I clap my hands in victory as I jog toward it.

“YOU SEE!? We kill two fish with one stone! Sophie can bathe herself, Jack can make a fire and I, Katana, shall catch us dinner. We camp here for the night!” I pick up a pebble and hurl it toward one of the koi, but the fish proves to be a mighty foe and dodges the stone. Unperturbed, I press my attack in this dance of death. throw throw throw! dodge dodge dodge

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